You come when I say, good girl.

Rose's POV

I crawled into bed naked, kicking the blanket away because even the lightest touch of fabric felt like too much on my hypersensitive skin. Every shift of my hips rubbed my swollen clit against the coarse sheets, sending sharp sparks shooting up my spine straight to my nipples. I didn’t touch myself. I *couldn’t*. I’d already come once tonight without his permission—shameful, denied, just from hearing him moan my name while he stroked himself.

But gods, the need clawed at me like claws raking my insides. I wanted to shove three fingers deep inside my aching cunt and pretend they were his cock—thick, veined, knot swelling at the base while he growled *good girl, take my knot, take my come, breed for me like the slut you are*. I wanted to grind my clit against the heel of my hand until I squirted all over the sheets, screaming his name.

Instead I clenched my thighs tight, hips rocking uselessly against nothing, sobbing quietly into the pillow as flashbacks assaulted me: the slick sound of his fist, the wet slap, the way his voice broke on “Rose—fuck—your pussy—”, the scent of his come flooding the air while I sat there blindfolded and chained, dripping helplessly.

“Jason… please…” I moaned into the pillow, voice muffled and broken. My wolf answered with a low, rumbling growl. *He’s going to knot you tomorrow. Fill you until you swell. Breed you like the bitch you are. Imagine it—his thick knot stretching you wide, locking inside while he pumps load after load into your womb.*

Sleep didn’t come. Every time I drifted, I heard him: *Rose—fuck—Rose—your tight little cunt would feel so fucking good…* Felt the blindfold’s silk. Smelled his come. Felt the chains biting my wrists. My hips rocked against nothing, seeking friction I denied myself until I was sobbing quietly into the pillow, tears soaking the fabric, wolf howling inside me for release I wouldn’t give.

I rolled onto my stomach, pressing my aching nipples into the mattress, grinding my clit against the sheet in tiny, desperate circles before forcing myself still again. “No,” I gasped, fists clenching the pillow. “He said tomorrow. I wait. I obey. I’m his good girl… even if it kills me.”

By the time gray light crept through the fogged window, I was a mess—skin fever-hot, thighs sticky with fresh slick, nipples aching so badly they hurt to breathe, clit throbbing so intensely I almost broke and touched myself anyway. I dragged myself up on shaky legs, pussy still leaking slow and steady, a constant shameful drip that made me whimper every time I moved.

I dressed the same—shirt buttoned to the throat with trembling fingers, jacket zipped high, braid tighter than yesterday, yanking until my scalp stung and my eyes watered. Armor. Lies. I took seven suppressants this time—seven bitter pills, choking them down dry in the bathroom mirror while staring at my reflection.

The flush on my chest hadn’t faded one bit. My nipples still poked obscenely against the thin fabric no matter how I adjusted, dark and obvious. My pussy was already wet again, a constant, shameful drip that soaked fresh panties within minutes, the scent blooming sweet and needy despite the pills.

“Seven pills,” I muttered to my reflection, voice hoarse and raw. “And I still smell like a bitch in heat. Still leaking like I’ve been fucked all night. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I want him to ruin me even more?”

Breakfast was hell on earth, the dining hall a gauntlet of stares and whispers that made my skin crawl and my core clench.

The whispers had turned into open, hungry stares and crude laughter that followed me like shadows.

“Seventh night in a row. She’s not even pretending anymore—look at that walk, she’s bow-legged.”

“Voss is keeping her until she can’t walk straight—bet he knotted her so deep she’s still full of come right now.”

“Eyes glassy, thighs rubbing together like she’s still cock-drunk. Smell that? She’s creaming herself at the table.”

“Full fucking omega heat. Dripping like a faucet. Voss is turning her into his personal breeding whore.”

I kept my head down, tray untouched, coffee scalding my tongue as I gulped it down to hide the tremble in my hands. Lila slid into the seat across from me anyway, eyes wide with a mix of worry and something darker—envy, maybe fear, maybe both. “Rose… you look wrecked. You *smell* like you’ve been—” Her voice dropped to a whisper, cheeks pink. “Did he finally… you know? Knot you? You’re leaking so much the whole table can smell it. Gods, it’s making my own wolf stir and I’m not even in heat. Tell me what he does to you. Please. I need to know if it’s as good as it smells.”

I stood so fast my chair scraped loud enough to draw more eyes, the sound cutting through the murmurs. “Leave it, Lila. Just… leave it. You don’t want to know what he does to me. What I let him do. How I beg for it. How I came just from listening to him jerk off while I was blindfolded and chained.”

An alpha from senior year—broad-shouldered, dark-haired, his own scent aggressive and interested—blocked my path in the corridor outside. His nostrils flared wide, pupils dilating as he leaned in, voice low and crude. “Kane. Fuck, you reek like a bitch who just got railed raw and left dripping. Voss finally sharing that sloppy little cunt yet, or is he keeping you all to himself like a selfish prick? Bet you’re still leaking his come down your thighs right now. Let me have a taste, yeah? I’ll make you forget his name.”

My wolf snarled before I could stop it, claws pricking my palms, eyes flashing silver. “Touch me and I’ll rip your fucking throat out and wear it as a necklace, you pathetic mutt. He owns this cunt. Every drop. Every moan. You couldn’t handle what he does to me—how he makes me come without touching me, how he’s going to knot me tomorrow until I’m screaming and bred full.”

He laughed, but stepped back when my growl deepened into something feral. “Feisty. He’s breaking you real good, huh? Bet you beg so pretty when he’s knot-deep, calling him alpha like a good little whore. When he’s done with you, come find me. I’ll knot that sloppy hole until you forget how to walk.”

Classes were pure torture, every second a slow, exquisite burn between my legs.

Lore first—*his* class.

I took the back row again, hood up, notebook closed on the desk like a shield I no longer believed in. When Jason entered, the entire room stilled, the air thickening with alpha presence. My wolf sat up instantly, tail thumping hard against my ribs, ears pricked forward, body leaning toward him like a whore in heat. My clit pulsed visibly at the sight of him—calm, controlled, black shirt sleeves rolled to show those scarred forearms, silver eyes sweeping the room until they locked on mine. He *knew*. He could smell every drop of slick leaking down my thighs from across the lecture hall, could probably taste how badly I needed him.

He lectured on the final claiming rites, voice low and velvet-rough, every word stroking between my legs like his fingers had last night. “The true claiming,” he said, pacing slowly, scars flexing with each powerful step, “is not the knot alone. It is the moment the omega *begs* for it—spread open on her alpha’s cock, dripping, sobbing, pleading for him to fill her, breed her, lock that swollen knot inside her until his seed takes root and swells her belly full. That is when the bond snaps permanent. That is when she becomes his forever—body, mind, womb, soul.”

His eyes found mine on *begs for it*. Held. Burned straight through me, promising everything. I felt fresh slick gush out, soaking through my panties and trickling down my inner thigh in a warm rivulet. A soft, broken whimper escaped before I could swallow it. Several heads turned. Someone snickered low. Marcus muttered from two rows over, “Hear that? Kane’s creaming herself again. Bet Voss has her trained to drip on command.”

Break whispers were vicious, following me like a pack of wolves.

“She’s definitely in full heat. Full fucking heat—can smell her from here. It’s making me hard just sitting near her.”

“Look at her—nipples hard as diamonds, thighs clenched so tight she’s probably creaming the chair underneath her.”

“Voss is going to ruin that tight little omega cunt tonight. Knot her until she screams and squirts all over his desk like the slut she is.”

Tactical shifting was impossible. My partial shifts were wild—claws too long, eyes flashing molten silver, growls slipping free every time anyone brushed too close. The instructor pulled me aside, voice tight with warning and barely concealed disgust. “Kane, you’re a walking liability right now. Sit out or I’ll report you straight to the dean for uncontrolled heat behavior. You’re distracting the whole class with that scent—half the alphas can’t focus, and the omegas are shifting uncomfortably. Get it together or get out.”

I left without a word, ducking into the nearest bathroom stall, locking the door with a click that echoed like a gunshot. The second I was alone I shoved my hand down my jeans, fingers sliding through the hot, slick mess between my legs, circling my swollen clit hard and fast. *Just once,* I told myself, biting my lip until it bled. *Just to take the edge off.* But his voice echoed in my head—*You come when I say, good girl*—and I yanked my hand away with a choked sob, slamming my forehead against the stall door. “No,” I whispered to myself. “Not without him. I’m his. Only his. I wait. I obey. Even if it kills me.”