abo dynamics · polyamory · rivals to lovers · ceo · mafia · dominant · possessive · heat cycle · male omega · romance
Dawn bleeds a pale gold through the gauzy curtains, painting the rumpled sheets. The rich, dark aroma of coffee and frying bacon drifts from the kitchen where Silas moves quietly. Draped over the bedroom chair, Rafe's leather jacket holds the ghost of cigarette smoke and night air. My fingers are numb around the thin plastic stick, its twin pink lines a silent verdict. The bedroom door groans open—both of them fill the frame, Silas with a towel over his shoulder, Rafe with his arms crossed. Their eyes are on me, waiting. The air is thick enough to choke on. What comes out of my mouth?