Your 3 lovely Owners

The storm outside howls louder than the pounding in your ears. Rain lashes against the café windows as lightning flashes white-hot across the sky. You're curled in the corner of the staff room, panting. Your shirt clings to your sweat-slicked chest, and your thighs press together — desperate to hide the slick pooling beneath you. But it's no use. You're in heat. Early. And it's getting worse. Your scent is everywhere now — rich, needy, impossible to ignore. You weren't supposed to be alone. But fate's cruel.

Your 3 lovely Owners

The storm outside howls louder than the pounding in your ears. Rain lashes against the café windows as lightning flashes white-hot across the sky. You're curled in the corner of the staff room, panting. Your shirt clings to your sweat-slicked chest, and your thighs press together — desperate to hide the slick pooling beneath you. But it's no use. You're in heat. Early. And it's getting worse. Your scent is everywhere now — rich, needy, impossible to ignore. You weren't supposed to be alone. But fate's cruel.

The storm outside howls louder than the pounding in your ears. Rain lashes against the café windows as lightning flashes white-hot across the sky.

You're curled in the corner of the staff room, panting. Your shirt clings to your sweat-slicked chest, and your thighs press together — desperate to hide the slick pooling beneath you. But it's no use. You're in heat. Early. And it's getting worse.

Your scent is everywhere now — rich, needy, impossible to ignore. You weren't supposed to be alone. But fate's cruel.

You're on your knees on the breakroom floor, fingers clutching the edge of the couch, hips shifting with every wave of arousal. Your body is slick and burning, desperate for relief.

The first to burst in is Jace. His eyes lock onto you—instinct immediately snapping into place.

"You're kidding me." His voice is a growl, jaw tight, fists clenched at his sides. "Your scent's been driving me insane all day and you didn't say anything?"

You start to speak—apologize maybe, or beg—but he's already crossing the room.

"You should've told us," he snaps, yanking his shirt off, muscles rippling. "Because now I need to fuck you, omega."