Page 65 of Knot Their Soldier: Part Three

"Oh screw you, Shade. How dare you think so little of me? That's not it, and you know it." Halley glares at me, her nostrils flaring as sweat rolls down her neck into her cleavage.

I lower myself onto one of the wooden dining chairs, feeling properly scolded. This is no place for my insecurities. "Sorry, I didn't mean that."

With a snarl of irritation, she sits back on her haunches and smooths her damp hair out of her eyes. "Please understand that it has to be the whole Pack or nothing. I can't… we made a promise that this would be the moment our Pack becomes official. I'm going to wait for them as long as it takes."

Fuck, this sucks in a very specific and terrible way.

We were ecstatic about officially mating and claiming Halley as our Omega. I was eager to become the Pack I've read about in the ancient records. And here we are, with our Omega ripe and ready, and the timing couldn't be worse.

I'm impressed by her restraint. She's irritable and throwing boots at me, but our girl needs her Alphas. This will be unlike any other heat she's had. Her body knows she belongs to a Pack and is preparing for four mates. Without us all together and whole, she'll never settle.

Since she came back from her trip to the other side, Halley has been different. She has an emotional stability to her that wasn’t there before, and through the bond, her resilience feels stronger than ever.

I’m seeing that restraint now, playing out in the worst possible circumstances, because her body is begging for relief and she’s still forcing herself to wait for all of us.

I watch as she resumes messing around with her nest, pacing back and forth while she flips pillows over and searches for the perfect spot without finding it. She screams in dissatisfaction and tears a pillow in two, sending stuffing floating across the nest.

"Would you just—" I start and then stop myself. If I'm feeling frustrated, then she must be feeling it tenfold. I try again. "What can I do to help, baby girl? I hate seeing you distressed."

It's an understatement. Her stifling scent, almost choking in its intensity, has taken on a sharp edge that makes both my cock hard and my instincts nervous.

It makes me want to fix it.

But I cannot fix a heat with snacks and a positive attitude. Not when her body is screaming for knots and her inner Omega is convinced she’s been abandoned by her Pack when she needs them most.

I can’t play Daddy with her either. This behavior is different from when she’s being a brat. Previously, her defiance has come from a playful side. In those situations, I can make her eat, drink, sleep, or orgasm, because she wants me to play along with her game.

This isn't a game. Halley isn't playing.

Through the bond, I reach for the steady weight of Knox.

'Sitrep, Boss. How close are you?' I push the question down the link, keeping my tone careful and steady, like I’m not one wrong word away from catching a third boot to the face.

Knox doesn't reply immediately, and I focus on his emotions. Tension fills him, and his patience is running thin, but there is also a glimmer of satisfaction. He's accomplished what he set out to do.

I'm surprised, but I shouldn't be. Our Prime on a mission is effective. And with the added incentive of an Omega in heat, nothing could have stopped him.

'Wrapping up now,' he replies. 'Keep her in the den. Some of the muppets out here have caught her scent.'

Ah, that's where the satisfaction is coming from. He's cracking heads and taking names. I suppose for an Alpha, there is no greater gratification than defending his Omega from a perceived rival Alpha.

The Pack will be returning with a surplus of adrenaline and raging possessiveness. I'm not sure how this is going to go. Last time Halley was in heat, it turned the three Alphas into rut-fueled, knotheaded maniacs.

I watch as Halley tears through another shirt, ripping it with her teeth and snarling in frustration.

Okay, so there will probably be four heads filled with the need for knots.

Rut-dammit. It's going to be an explosion of instincts and irrationality, isn't it? The scientist in me weeps. I miss logic.

"They’re coming. Almost there, baby girl."

Halley’s head snaps up.

Relief flickers across her features before another cramp twists through her, and she hisses, doubling over. She grips the edge of the nest until her knuckles go white, shoulders trembling with the effort of holding herself together.

Halley’s lip curls, and she says between hitching breaths, "At this point, they're going to have to beg to get into my nest."

I should probably warn the others that they’re not coming back to a mewling Omega desperate for their touch. They’re coming back to Halley with sweat on her skin, slick on her thighs, and vengeance in her eyes.