Page 196 of Beautifully Scarred Omega

I reach for them both at once—one hand in Finn’s hair, one hand finding Ethan’s jaw. Max’s mouth is still at my throat, all three of their scents weaving into mine, and the heat in my blood is enormous and bright and, for the first time in my life, something I want.

I am choosing this.

I am choosing this.

The lock disengages with a sound like a gunshot.

Max pulls me behind him and Finn is on his feet in an instant. Ethan wraps the blanket around my shoulders before rising beside them. The three of them form a wall between me and the door so fast that it would have been impressive if I weren’t still half-dazed from the heat.

The door swings open, and cooler air rushes in from the corridor.

Griffin.

He takes in the room in one sweep—the blankets on the floor, all three alphas in varying states of dishevelment standing shoulder to shoulder between him and me, me in nothing but a blanket, and the quality of the air which, in a room this enclosed, I am fairly certain speaks for itself.

“Sophie.” His voice is even. His eyes are not. “What the hell is going on?”

“She’s going into heat.” Max’s voice comes out as a growl.

I watch him decide how to play this. Then his face settles into the one I know best—the head of Sentinel taking over.

“Get away from her,” he says.

“How did you find us?” I ask.

His eyes find mine over Max’s shoulder. “Ethan called us. The line cut out before he could say anything, so we figured we’d come by. Just to be safe.” He glances at the three alphas around me. “We got here as fast as we could.”

Nolan and Declan appear behind him in the doorway. Nolan’s face is carefully blank. Declan looks around the room, then at me and the three alphas standing between us, and his expression softens.

“Move.” Griffin takes a step forward.

“I’d strongly recommend against that.” Ethan’s voice is quiet, but it carries a warning that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. He steps forward, putting himself between Griffin and me. “She is going into heat. She has chosen to bond with her pack. If you interrupt that process now⁠—”

“Her pack?” Griffin repeats, the question edged with skepticism.

“Her pack,” Max says, with a certainty that leaves no room for doubt.

“Griffin.” I step forward. Max’s arm moves automatically, but I press my hand against it and he lets me through, reluctantly, staying close enough that I can feel his warmth at my back.

I look at Griffin. At Nolan. At Declan, who watches me with the same quiet protectiveness he has since that basement when I was twenty-one.

“I’m okay. I promise.”

Griffin looks at me and sees all the signs I know he knows how to read. I can see the understanding forming in his eyes, the acceptance following more slowly.

“Sophie—”

“I’m okay,” I say again.

The heat crests in another overwhelming wave, and suddenly my body is done holding me upright. I have just enough time to think oh, that’s—before the room tilts.

Max catches me before I hit the floor.

I hear Griffin say my name. Declan moving. Finn saying something sharp and fast that I can’t make out as the heat closes over me like warm water.

The last thing I’m aware of is Max’s arms around me and the scent of bourbon and dark chocolate, rain and crushed rose petals, all of it wound together into one thing, and the thought⁠—

I’m not afraid.