Knox's POV:
After Bella fell asleep in my arms, I carefully slipped out of the room. A quiet sense of pride settled over me. I had controlled it. Her scent was a potent lure, a heady fragrance designed to drive any Alpha mad, but I had held my ground.
When she snapped at me, the unique signature of her heat became unmistakable. To have answered that challenge with force would have been a violation, a mistake I would never forgive myself for. Instead, I let out a steadying breath, retrieved my shirt from the dryer, and put it on.
A trip to the pharmacy for her heat suppressants was the necessary, rational step. They would help her through this comfortably. There was, of course, another path, a more primal and immediate one, but that was a choice we had to make with clear minds, not in the heat of the moment.
I got into the car, my focus absolute. The drive was a mission, a simple task to ensure her well-being. I was aware that such close exposure to her pheromones carried a risk of triggering my own rut, but the thought was a clinical observation, not a fear. My control was solid. It would hold.
I had Jack fix the car while I stayed with Bella. He'd complained the entire time, griping that I didn't take care of the engine after last night's drifting. A necessary evasion to avoid a hail of bullets during a minor street skirmish. Mafia shit.
Now, I parked by the all-night pharmacy and stepped out, the door chime a soft, mundane sound in the tense silence. I walked to the counter, my focus narrowing to a single objective. A kind-looking turtle hybrid stood there, adjusting his glasses.
Before I could speak, he interrupted, his voice calm and knowing.
"Heat suprements?"
I froze, a jolt of shock and understanding lancing through me. How did he—? Of course. My scent would be saturated with Bella's. The pheromones rolling off me were a dead giveaway, a billboard announcing my omega was in per-heat and that I was the alpha attending her. There was no time for questions or pride. Bella was waiting.
"Yes," I said, the word sharp and final. "The strongest you have."
The pharmacist's kind expression faded into one of professional concern. He shook his head slowly.
"I'm sorry, son. A strong dose now would be dangerous. It could shock her system, make the fever spike uncontrollably." He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a confidential tone. "Those are for the preparation phase, to ease the transition. Once the heat is active… the body must run its course. The best thing you can do now is provide comfort and safety."
Comfort. Safety. The words felt useless. My jaw tightened. I couldn't leave with nothing. The image of her trembling in her bed, alone and confused, was unbearable.
"Then give me the mildest one you have," I demanded, my voice low. "The lightest dose. Something."
The turtle looked at me with a pity that I would have found insulting any other time. He pulled a small box from a shelf.
"This is a gentle herbal blend. It may take the very edge off the muscle aches. That's all."
It was a pathetic offering. But it was something. I snatched the box, tossed a bill onto the counter, and was already turning for the door.
I hope she's okay. I need to get back. Now.
The car door slammed shut. I threw the flimsy box onto the passenger seat and started the engine, my focus narrowing to a single point: getting back to her.