Knot Me, Stepbrother

3: Burning from the Inside

The ache wouldn’t stop.

It started as a low, warm throb deep in my belly, but it quickly grew into something sharper, hotter, more demanding. I curled tighter under the thin blanket, pressing my thighs together, but every small movement only made the fire worse. My skin felt too tight, too sensitive. Even the soft fabric of my shirt brushing against my n*****s sent little shocks straight down between my legs.

Sweat beaded on my forehead and trickled down my back. The room wasn’t hot, yet I was burning up from the inside. My breathing came faster, shallow, almost panting.

This was the heat. The real beginning of it. And it was hitting way too soon after the bond had snapped into place last night.

I stumbled out of bed on shaky legs and made my way to the attached bathroom. Cold water. That was all I could think about. I turned on the tap and splashed my face again and again, but the coolness barely touched the flames under my skin. When I looked up at the mirror, I barely recognized myself. Cheeks flushed bright red. Eyes glassy and wide. Lips parted as I tried to catch my breath.

Another wave slammed into me without warning. My knees buckled and I had to grip the edge of the sink to stay standing. A soft, needy whimper slipped out before I could stop it. Heat flooded between my thighs, slick and embarrassing. The sweet, desperate scent of it filled the small bathroom.

“No… not now,” I whispered, voice trembling. “Please not now.”

I pressed my forehead against the cool mirror, trying to breathe through the pulsing ache. But every time I closed my eyes, Reagan’s face flashed in my mind...his angry golden eyes, the way his jaw had tightened when he rejected me, the flash of hunger he tried to hide. The bond latched onto those memories and made the heat burn even hotter.

I couldn’t stay in here like this.

I turned off the tap and walked back into my bedroom on unsteady legs. The moment I sat on the edge of the bed, another strong wave hit. My back arched and my hips rocked forward on their own, searching for something...anything...to ease the empty ache inside me. A low moan escaped my throat.

The hallway light clicked on.

Heavy footsteps stopped right outside my door.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I held my breath.

The knob turned.

Reagan stepped inside without knocking. He was shirtless, wearing only gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His muscular chest glistened with a light sheen of sweat, like he had been pacing his own room for hours. His dark gold eyes locked onto me immediately. His nostrils flared wide as he took in my scent.

For one brief second, raw, feral hunger crossed his face.

Then his expression slammed shut, cold and hard.

“What the hell is this?” he growled, voice low and dangerous. He stayed near the door, one hand still gripping the knob like he might bolt at any second.

I tried to sit up straighter, but my body betrayed me. Another pulse of heat made me shift on the bed, thighs pressing together. “Nothing. Just… go away, Reagan.”

“Don’t lie to me, Irene.” He took one step closer, then stopped himself. His jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumped. “I can smell you from down the hall. You’re going into heat. Already. Because of that f*****g bond the Goddess tried to force on us.”

The words stung like a slap. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them back. “It’s not my fault. You rejected me in front of the entire pack. You told everyone I’m just your sister.”

Reagan’s eyes darkened as they moved over me slowly...taking in my flushed cheeks, the way my n*****s poked against the thin fabric of my sleep shirt, the way my legs kept shifting restlessly. His breathing grew heavier for a moment before he forced it under control.

“Yeah, and I meant every word,” he said coldly. “You are my sister. We’ve lived in the same house for four years. The pack sees us as family. This…” he gestured sharply at me “...is wrong. It’s disgusting. You think I want to knot my own little stepsister? You think I want the pack looking at us like we’re some sick, twisted pair?”

His cruel words cut deep, but the heat made it hard to focus on the pain. My body kept reacting to his presence, growing slicker, aching more. I hated how much I wanted him to come closer.

“Then why are you here?” I asked, my voice came out breathy and weak. “If I’m so disgusting, why didn’t you just stay in your room?”

Reagan’s hands curled into fists at his sides. The veins on his forearms stood out. “Because I can smell exactly what’s happening to you, and I know what it does to unmated males. If any of them catch even a hint of this scent, they’ll come looking. I’m here to tell you to fight it. Lock your door. Stay inside. Don’t let anyone near you.”

He took another step back toward the door, but his eyes stayed glued to me. “And don’t think for one second that means I want you. You’re nineteen. I’m pushing thirty. I’m supposed to protect you, not bend you over and f**k you like some needy little omega. So do us both a favor and keep your legs closed until this heat passes. Find some other wolf to help you through it if you have to. Just not me.”

The humiliation burned hotter than the heat itself. Tears finally spilled down my cheeks. “You’re so cruel…”

Reagan’s face stayed hard, but his voice dropped even lower. “Better cruel than stupid. Stop looking at me like that. Like you actually believe I could ever want my own stepsister. It makes me sick to my stomach.”

He turned toward the door, shoulders rigid with tension.

“Reagan…” I whispered, the bond and the heat making me say his name even though I hated myself for it.

He paused with his hand on the knob, back still to me. For a long moment he didn’t move. Then he spoke without turning around.

“Fight it, Irene. Or I swear I’ll make sure you regret it.”

With that, he walked out and closed the door firmly behind him.