Page 136 of Run Wild Omega

“About what you’re asking for. About what it means. Because if we do this, if we cross that line, there’s no going back. Not for any of us.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Because you’re in heat, Tess. Your judgment is compromised. Your body is producing hormones that are designed to make you want this regardless of what your conscious mind wants. I need to know that this is you talking. Not the heat.”

I look at him. I look at all of them.

“It’s both,” I say. “I’m not going to lie to you. I can’t separate what my body wants from what I want because right now, they’re the same thing. But I know who I am. I know who you are. I know that I’ve been falling for three men since the day I crashed back into this town, and I know that my body is telling me to stop being a coward about it.”

“Tess…” Miles starts.

“I’m not done.” I sit up. The movement makes my head spin, but I grip the sheets and hold on. “I have spent my entire life being told what I should want. The Academy told me I should want a wealthy pack. Marcus told me I should want him and only him, on his terms, when it was convenient. Rourke told me I should want the Ashfords because they can make my problems go away. I am done being told what to want.”

I look at Wyatt. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since I was sixteen years old and you touched me like I was something precious.”

I look at Miles. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since you put your thumb in my mouth and looked at me like I was a problem you couldn’t solve.”

I look at Dylan. “I want you. I’ve wanted you since you pulled me out of the snow and called me Sunshine.”

My voice breaks. “I want all of you. Not because my heat is telling me to. Because my heart is telling me to. And if that makes me greedy, or broken, or everything they said I’d be at the Academy, then fine. I’ll be all of it. But I’m not going to lie in this bed and suffer because the three of you are too scared to admit you want me too.”

The room goes quiet.

Wyatt’s grip on my hand has tightened to the point of pain, but I don’t pull away. His chest is heaving. His eyes are locked on mine, and I can see the war behind them. The medic. The soldier. The boy who was terrified of ruining me. The man who is terrified of losing me.

“She’s right,” Dylan says from the door. His voice is raw. “We’ve been dancing around this for weeks. All of us. Pretending the scenting was clinical. Pretending the rotation was about security. Pretending we weren’t all counting the minutes until we could be near her again.”

“I know,” Miles says, and his voice is barely above a whisper. “I’ve been running scenarios in my head for days. Every possible outcome. Every risk assessment. Every legal implication. And every single one of them ends the same way. With me wanting her.”

Wyatt closes his eyes. I watch his chest expand. I watch his jaw work. I watch the war rage behind his face, the guilt and the fear and the love all crashing into each other.

Then he opens his eyes. The Alpha in him has won.

“If we do this,” he says, “we do it together. All of us. No one gets left out. No one competes. We’re a pack.”

“A pack,” Dylan repeats.

“A pack,” Miles confirms.

Wyatt looks at me. “Are you sure, baby? Because once we start, I don’t know if I can stop. None of us do. Your scent is… I can’t think straight. I can barely hold a thought that isn’t about being inside you. And that scares me more than anything on that mountain.”

“I’m sure,” I whisper. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He leans forward. His hand releases mine and moves to my jaw, tilting my face up. His thumb traces my lower lip, the same way Miles did on the sofa, but rougher. More urgent.

“Tell me,” he says. “Out loud. Say the words.”

“I want you to fuck me,” I say. “All of you. I want the pack. I want the bond. I want to stop pretending.”

Something snaps. The air shifts, releasing the tension that’s been building since Wyatt carried me into this apartment. The three of them exchange a glance, a silent conversation in the span of a breath, and then Wyatt’s mouth slams onto mine.

He kisses me like he’s starving, his tongue taking mine and consuming me.

I arch into him with a swallowed moan. His hands tangle in my hair, pulling my head back to expose my throat. His teeth graze my pulse, and my body floods with another wave of slick.

Hands find my waist. Broader, warmer hands. Dylan. He pulls my tank top over my head in one motion, the air hitting my skin and tightening my nipples. His mouth tracks my shoulder, lips following my collarbone, and a cry tears from my throat against Wyatt’s lips.

A third pair of hands slides my shorts down my hips. Miles skims the curve of my ass, his breath catching as the fabric peels away from my drenched underwear.