Where the Heat Begins
1287 Words
TALIA
“ Jarrick–”
“It’s okay, it’s my room.” Jarrick gently puts me down in his bed and I hear some scoff behind us. Tres is back with his fresh shirts while Malrik told us he’ll take a shower first.
“Lie back.”
“Talia.”
I feel so ashamed of him because he also took the liberty of washing me earlier. Goddess! I know he’s my ex but this is hilarious!
“You’re scraped to hell,” he mutters. “But nothing’s broken. I will check your shoulders, okay?”
His fingers graze my ribs and I suck in air. “You have a lot of bruises.”
“I landed too bad..” A groan slipped out of my mouth when I felt him applying some cold ointment. “Last night.”
“You did well.”
…Huh?
I look up—and he's already watching me. “What do you mean?” I ask.
His eyes flick over me, fingers still hovering in my neck. “You shifted on instinct. You ran. You survived all three of us.” His voice dips lower. “You could’ve died.”
“Oh come on. Don’t be dramatic.” Tres, the freaking asshole butt in. “We should be thankful she didn’t completely fool us.”
Fool them?
“f**k off, Tres.”
I push up on one elbow, every nerve flaring raw. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“Exactly.” Tres shrugs, his gaze flicks to me.“How can an omega have the three of us as her mate?” He tilts his head, mock-thinking. “What is she, moon-blessed?”
“What did you just say?”
Tres doesn’t answer. Just stares like it’s obvious, like I’m stupid for not knowing.
“Get out,” Jarrick says again. This time low. Threatening.
Tres smirks. “You think keeping her here’s gonna stop this conversation?"
"She's still healing."
“She’s not deaf,” Tres snaps back. “And she’s not stupid.” His eyes flash gold. “You think if we keep lying to her, it’ll make the bond disappear? It’s in her blood now. All three of us. She needs to f*****g deal with it.”
All three of us.
That again.
“I don’t—” My voice breaks.
Tres leans closer, lips curling. His voice drops into something sickly sweet. “Tonight, you’re going to be in heat again—” he inhales deeply, “—and I’ll gladly f**k you through it.”
“No one touches her.”
Malrik.
Malrik stalks forward and I almost—almost moan at the sharp cut of his aftershave. Clean. Animal. Still wet from the shower and smelling like violence scrubbed raw.
He doesn’t even look at me at first. Just lifts his chin toward Jarrick, who’s still stiff at the edge of the bed.
“Check her legs. I saw a wound earlier.”
What?
I jerk, eyes flashing down—and he’s right.
The skin along my thigh is smeared dark. Dirt. Dried blood. A gash, shallow but angry, cuts across the muscle. I hadn’t even felt it.
Too much else was hurting.
Tres is silent now, like Malrik’s weight in the room sucked the breath out of him. He leans back against the wall, but his arms are crossed. Watching.
Jarrick’s already moving.
“Don’t move,” he murmurs, dropping to one knee beside the bed. His hands are warm and confident, curling under my thigh as he lifts my leg slightly, inspecting the wound. “Damn it. You were bleeding out and didn’t even say a word.”
Because I couldn’t feel anything.
Because you broke me. All of you.
But I don’t say it. I just bite my lip as his fingers brush over the tender skin. The ointment stings. I twitch—and Malrik growls.
“Careful.”
I feel Jarrick’s fingers moving lower, slower. More cautious now, as if he can feel Malrik’s gaze on every single pass. I’m panting—not from pain, not entirely. My skin burns where they touch, where they hover.
Then I feel it.
The air shifts again. Thicker. Hotter.
Malrik’s hand brushes my ankle.
Just a touch.
Barely anything.
But my whole body locks. My back arches—stupid, involuntary. The wolf in me stirs.
“I’ve asked the elders about having three mates at once.”
Already?
Malrik pulls my legs and I slide helplessly toward him. I gasp, fists catching the edge of the mattress. “They say it’s rare,” Malrik says, voice rough now, teeth grazing the shell of my ear. “But it's possible.”
“Malrik,” Tres protested.
I’m so bewildered by his words I just stare at his gaze. Possible? Three mates?
“Tell me what happened last night…”
“Is that why you’re here last night, hmm?” His nose drags along my cheek, his voice a growl in my ear. “You want to lure us out?”
My mouth opens.
Jarrick shifts beside us, his hand clamping Malrik’s wrist, hard. “That’s enough.”
“I didn’t know—” I choke, the heat clawing again, lower now, meaner. “I didn’t mean to—”
Malrik laughs, deep and wolfish, before he pulls out. “Do you have any disease in you?”
I blink. “What—?”
“Any infections,” he grits out, eyes narrowing, jaw flexing. “How many s****l partners have you had?”
I flinch. My eyes sting. I try to pull away—his grip tightens.
“Moonfuck,” Jarrick snarls from behind him. “Get off her.”
“Shut up.”
Malrik doesn't even turn. His knee shoves higher between mine, locking me open. My back arches off the bed. His palm crushes my hip. I'm exposed.
“Answer me,” he growls, leaning low enough his breath sears my jaw. “How many c***s have been inside you?”
“None,” I gasp.
His fingers twitch.
“Say it again.”
“I’m—I’m a virgin—”
Jarrick shifts behind him. A growl in his throat. “Back off—”
“You didn’t even touch her?” Malrik's mocking tone shifted to Jarrick.
Our relationship is just short-lived and I broke up with Jarrick because I wanted to know first who my mate is and now Malrik is deciding for me.
“Are you seriously considering this, Malrik?” Tres snaps.
He’s still standing near the door, arms crossed, disgust in his voice—but his eyes won’t leave my legs.
“She smells like all three of us,” Malrik growls, dipping close, his nose brushing my jaw. “The bond’s already made its choice.”
No.
No.
No.
I jerk my head, fingers twisting the sheet. “It’s not possible—I didn’t choose—”
“You don’t get to choose,” Malrik growls. His mouth drags down the line of my throat, hot and open, and my body arches before I can stop it. “So here’s what’s going to happen from now on.”
His palm skims up my stomach—rough, possessive, wolf-warm—and my hips twitch under him. I hate the sound that rips from my throat. I hate that I want more.
“You’re ours now.”
He leans in, tongue flicking the corner of my mouth. “It’s been years since we shared a girl,” he murmurs, teeth grazing my jaw. “What do you think, boys?”
And that’s when I realize—they’re not asking me. They’re already claiming me.
- Writer
