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My legs are weak, but I come to a stand and take stock of what the fuck just happened. I've never experienced anything like that. There are no words. Apparently, because no one says anything.
And even though none of us have ever been in this position before, through our pack bonds, we agree, because eventually, with Imogen's needs at the center of our attention, Iggy gingerly picks her up and carries her to Cass's bathroom. Cass and I work together, changing the sheets. We don't have many extra sets, so we put those in the wash, anticipating needing to change them again soon.
After we're done cleaning up the dust from the hole in the wall, Iggy settles in beside Imogen and they fall asleep, his arms and legs wrapped protectively around her body.
I head into my bedroom and shower, wrapping gauze around my arm where Iggy fucking bit me. When I get back downstairs, wearing only boxers, I find Cass in a similar state, his long hair dripping water onto his shoulders. He's stocking up, refilling empty water bottles, all mismatched, some he probably dug out of the recycling bin.
After a few minutes, his shoulders dropped dejectedly. "You know this isn't good enough, right?"
Sighing, I gather the bottles, and he follows me into his room. We put them all on his dresser for when she wakes up.
He's right and I don't want to admit it. We're definitely not good enough for her. "I'm not surprised she's from the Hills. She carries herself like she's from money."
"I really like her, Red. Iggy does, too."
"So… where does that leave us?"
We stare at the two sleeping forms in silence for a few minutes. "Maybe we could be good enough for her. Build her a proper nest. Because you're right, this—" I wave my hand around his room. We live like fucking bachelors in our late twenties, because we are. The rooms are poorly decorated, with few creature comforts. We're not exactly flush with cash, either, but we have enough to make this place passable. It guts me she deserves more, but we can't really give her that. Nearly every house in the Hills neighborhood is a mansion of some kind. We don't have that kind of money. We can't provide for her like she's used to.
I continue, "This isn't good enough."
"You want to build a proper nest? For real?" I don't miss the excitement in Cass's voice.
"There is that big room upstairs…"
The corner of his mouth lifts, and he nods in agreement. We both know we can't court an omega, especially one like Imogen, without at least having a nest built. We can't expect her to be interested in us, if all we have to offer is our shitty bedrooms and no forethought about an omega's needs.
"So, we're doing this. We're gonna court her like a proper pack."
We should get Iggy's approval first, but he's never fallen asleep with a woman like this. He's not an asshole to chicks, not at all, but he doesn't bring them home, and if we're with someone together, he's the first one out, escaping into his cave. This is unequivocally different. Despite his intense misgivings, he proved tonight—well, sort of, considering he bit me, but once he got his shit together, he was good—he's not like his fathers. He's a lover and a protector.
Though Cass's bed is a king, it's not exactly big enough for the four of us, but no one is willing to sleep away from Imogen, so we crash in a pile, kicking each other out of the way, managing a few hours of shut eye, before we wake to a heated Imogen.
The next two days pass like this; we manage a couple of hours of sleep, before waking to Imogen attempting to ride our cocks or sucking us off to wake us up and take care of her. She's unapologetic in her demands and while we all stayed out of rut, Imogen's need for us to push her body to the limits, the way she claws and begs for it harder, the way she screams in orgasm when we slap her pussy or pinch and clamp her nipples surprises us less and less as time goes on.
By some miracle, over the next few days, Iggy calms. I've never seen him so chill. He still fucks her with reckless abandon, but it's like he's found peace inside of her, or just being with her.
Roxy gave us some advice and sent over more groceries. We had to tell her we were with Imogen since she's also out of work, but Roxy knows what a huge deal it is that we're tending to an omega, in heat no less, so she swears silence. I expect her mates will also know, but they'll be respectful and keep it to themselves.
We know her heat is slowing when she sleeps more and begs for all our knots less. It's a good thing too, because there's only three of us and we're all wiped. Whatever she wants, whatever she demands, we'll give her. But after a few days, we're all exhausted.
After showering and re-wrapping the bandage around my arm from when Iggy bit me, I check my phone. Imogen's been asleep since last night, we think the heat will break today. I don't know what comes next, we haven't talked about it. But we've grown closer, and accepted this fourth person into our pack in a way I never thought would happen. We've worked together, taking care of her, of each other. I'm… hopeful.
Roxy mentioned that Imogen was friends with Ophelia, that's how she came to find us at Queenie's, so I shoot out a quick text to Ophelia. I just want to ask a few basic questions. I don't let her know we're interested, because I don't know Imogen's feelings on the subject yet. Besides, I want to learn who she is through Imogen herself, not secondhand. But it would be nice to have a little background info so I can prepare to court her properly, like she deserves.
I'm already thinking of gift ideas and date nights when Ophelia texts me back. She responds in the same lazy fashion she always does, pretending to be annoyed I'm asking her questions. I feel a little guilty asking under the guise of Imogen's employer, like I'm just gathering details.
I don't expect the hurt. Against the careful euphoria of the last few days, it's sharp, contrasting. It sits in my stomach like a rock. I feel fucking sick.
We don't know her. She never made us any promises. We're the ones that got carried away, thinking this meant more to her than to us. We're so fucking stupid. She's an omega not on heat suppressants, she obviously does this kind of thing at least once or twice a year.
Still, I can't believe she's fucking engaged to be married.
Chapter 15
Imogen
What sweet hell is this?
