Page 130 of Run Wild Omega

“Good. Can you make her a nest?”

I close my eyes. A nest. An Omega nest, built from the scents and fabrics of her pack, a cocoon of biological safety that would help her body regulate through the heat without medical intervention.

“Yeah,” I say. “I can do that.”

“Build it. Use your clothes, your pack’s clothes, anything that carries Alpha scent. Her body needs the pack signature to stabilize. Keep her hydrated. Monitor her temperature. If it goes above 103, you call me immediately. Otherwise, let the heat run its course. A stress-induced heat triggered by medication is typically shorter than a natural cycle. Twelve to twenty-four hours.”

“And us?”

“If you’re staying with her, you need to understand that her pheromones are going to be at maximum concentration. Your bodies will respond. Aggressively. If you can’t control yourselves, you leave. No exceptions.”

“Understood.”

“I’m serious, Mr. Callahan. An Omega in heat is not capable of consent. If any of you touch her in a way she hasn’t explicitly, lucidly approved, I will report it.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Give me your number. I’ll call to check on her in four hours.”

I rattle off my number. She repeats it back. I confirm.

“Take care of her, Mr. Callahan.”

“I will.”

I hang up.

The room is quiet. Miles and Dylan are watching me. Tess is curled into the couch, her arms wrapped around her middle, her forehead pressed to her knees. She’s shivering, and the scent of her is so thick in the air that I can taste it on the back of my tongue.

I crouch in front of her. I don’t touch her, not yet. I just get close enough that she can feel my presence without the contact overwhelming her.

“Tess,” I say. “Baby, look at me.”

She lifts her head. Her eyes are glassy, the pupils so wide that her irises have nearly vanished. She looks terrified.

“What did she say?” Tess asks.

“She says we need to get you to the pack house. We’re going to build you a nest. It’ll help your body stabilize.”

“A nest,” she repeats.

“Yeah.” I reach out and brush a damp strand of hair from her forehead. My fingers graze her skin, and she makes a sound, a tiny whimper that goes straight to my groin. I pull back. “I know you’re scared. But we’ve got you. All of us.”

“I can’t think,” she whispers. “I can’t think straight. Everything is so loud and my skin hurts and I want…”

She stops. Swallows. Her face crumples.

“What do you want, baby?”

“I want you. All of you. And it’s not just me, it’s the heat, and I hate it.”

“It’s not just the heat,” Dylan says from beside her. “Trust me.”

Miles stands. “I’ll get the truck running. We need to move.”

I look at Tess. She’s trembling, flushed, drenched in a scent that’s making my vision swim. My girl. The girl I let go of at seventeen because I was too scared to hold on. The girl who came back to me on a frozen mountainside with a broken leg and a dead radio.

“We need to bring you to the pack house, baby,” I say.