Sacrificed To The Triplet Alpha Kings

His hand moved to his cock.

It was already hard. Had been hard all night. No amount of cold showers, no amount of mental discipline, no amount of will could make it soften. The thing was like a rod of steel, leaking precome, demanding satisfaction.

He wrapped his hand around it and stroked.

His eyes closed as pleasure shot through him. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. They all were. Three alpha males....powerful, trained, disciplined....but reduced to stroking their cocks in the shower because an omega had worked her way into their systems like a drug.

Years of training. Years of breeding that emphasized control and mastery over instinct. And all of it was meaningless because their wolves had decided that a small, wolfless omega was more important than any of that.

They were fucked.

All three of them.

And there was nothing they could do about it.

Sebastian stroked faster.

His jaw clenched. His free hand pressed against the shower wall, creating deep gouges in the tile as his body reacted to the friction of his hand on his cock. The water ran over him, hot and relentless, and he used it to ground himself even as pleasure built at the base of his spine.

His breathing became heavier. More ragged.

He could imagine her beneath him. Could imagine the way her pussy would feel wrapped around his cock right now. Could imagine the sounds she would make if he was inside her, fucking her, claiming her, marking her as his.

But he couldn’t touch her. His brother had been clear. Off-limits. Completely.

The thought made him stroke faster.

His muscles tensed. His entire body coiled toward release. His balls were tight, heavy, desperate for relief.

And then....

Thick ropes of cum spilled out of him, splattering against the shower wall. The release was intense but not satisfying. His cock was still hard as it pulsed its load, still desperate for more, still aching with need.

Sebastian looked down at his still-erect dick with a mixture of frustration and despair.

”Fuck,” he breathed.

The word hung in the hot steam of the shower.

His cock was still rock hard. The orgasm had done nothing to relieve the aching need. If anything, it had made it worse. His body knew what it wanted, and stroking off in a shower wasn’t going to satisfy that want.

He switched off the water and stepped out of the shower.

The cold air of the bathroom hit his wet skin, and for a moment, he stood there dripping water onto the floor, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His chest was heaving. His muscles were still coiled tight. His cock was still hard, still leaking, still demanding.

He ran his hands through his wet hair and gripped it like he could physically hold himself together through sheer force of will.

In three hours, Agnes would report back. In three hours, they would know if Lilith had truly recovered or if they had broken something fundamental inside her. And he would have to sit in a meeting with his brothers and discuss returning her to Shadowmere. Would have to agree to send her away. Would have to accept that whatever this was, whatever she was....would be removed from their lives in less than two weeks.

The thought made his cock throb with desperate need.

He looked down at it and shook his head.

”Fuck,” he said again, and the word was filled with all the frustration and desperation and want that he couldn’t express any other way.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and left the bathroom, his body still vibrating with unsatisfied need, his mind already anticipating the morning meeting where they would confirm that she was recovering.

And then the countdown would continue. Days remaining before they had to let her go. Days remaining before they lost her completely.

Sebastian didn’t know how he was going to survive that.

***

Nicholas had been awake since before dawn.

He was sitting behind his desk in the office, paperwork spread out in front of him, work that needed doing, estate business that couldn’t wait. But his eyes weren’t tracking the words. His mind wasn’t processing the strategic decisions that required his attention. Instead, he was counting the minutes until Agnes arrived with her report.

Across the room, Sebastian stood by the window. He’d been there for the past hour, perfectly motionless, staring out at the grounds. His wet hair was slicked back from his shower. His clothes were fresh. But there was a tension in his shoulders that suggested he hadn’t found relief under the spray of water. His jaw was clenched so tight it looked like it might crack.

Lucian was pacing.

He’d arrived twenty minutes ago, and since then, he’d been moving back and forth across the office like a caged animal. His golden eyes were bright with frustration. His hands kept clenching and unclenching at his sides. Every few steps, he’d turn and pace back in the opposite direction, like he couldn’t settle anywhere.

”Sit down,” Nicholas said quietly.

”I can’t,” Lucian snapped. His voice was sharp with tension. ”Don’t ask me to sit down right now, Nicholas. I can’t.”

Sebastian didn’t turn from the window, but his shoulders tensed slightly at Lucian’s tone.

The office was silent except for the sound of Lucian’s footsteps. Back and forth. Back and forth. The steady rhythm was almost hypnotic, and it was driving Nicholas absolutely fucking insane.

The knock came at 8:47 AM.

Agnes entered without waiting for permission. She was carrying a small tray....tea and toast, though Nicholas couldn’t imagine who she thought would eat. She set it down on the side table and then turned to face the three brothers with an expression that was carefully neutral.

But Nicholas could see the exhaustion in her eyes. Could see the weight of what she’d observed pressed into the lines around her mouth.

”Report,” Nicholas commanded.

Agnes folded her hands in front of her.

”Physically,” she began, her voice steady and professional, ”she’s recovering well. No fever. No signs of infection. The bruising will fade. The soreness will ease. Her body is strong, and it will heal.”

Lucian stopped pacing.

”And?” he asked, hearing the unspoken continuation in her tone.