Chapter 4:
I wake up drenched in sweat, my skin burning like I've been set on fire from the inside out.
The sheets beneath me are soaked, clinging to my limbs like a second, suffocating skin. Every nerve ending in my body feels like it's been stripped raw and exposed to open air. Even the soft linen nightshirt dragging across my breasts feels like sandpaper.
No. No, no, no.
I know what this is. Every Omega knows the signs, even those of us who've spent our entire lives running from the curse of our biology.
My heat is coming.
I stumble out of bed, my legs shaking with a weakness that terrifies me. I make it three steps before another wave of fever crashes through me, more violent than the last. I collapse against the stone wall, gasping for air that feels too thin to breathe. It's too early. I've had suppressants in my system for years; my heats were supposed to be regulated, controlled, manageable.
But the suppressants are gone. The collar is gone. And my body, freed from twenty-three years of chemical imprisonment, is making up for lost time with a vengeance.
I need to hide this. If Kade finds out—if the pack finds out—I'm no longer a guest. I'm prey.
The door bursts open.
Kade fills the doorway, his eyes pure black, his chest heaving like he's been running for miles. His control is fracturing; I can see it in the way his hands are clenched into claws, the way his jaw is locked so tight the muscle is twitching.
"Why didn't you tell me?" His voice is barely human, a guttural rasp that vibrates in my very bones.
"Tell you what?" I'm backed against the wall, my arms wrapped around myself, trying to hide the way my body is trembling, trying to suppress the sweet, cloying scent of lilies and cream that is turning into a drug.
He stalks toward me, each step deliberate and predatory. "Your heat. It's coming. Early. The whole fucking pack can smell you, Elena. The Alphas are circling the tower like sharks."
"That's not—I don't—" But even as I deny it, another wave of fever crashes through me. My knees buckle. I whimper, a pathetic, high-pitched sound I hate myself for making.
Kade catches me before I hit the floor. His hands on my bare arms feel like ice and fire at the same time. The contact sends a jolt of pure, unadulterated need straight to my core. I gasp, my fingers clutching at his shirt, pulling him closer even as my mind screams for me to run.
"How long?" he growls, his face inches from mine.
"I don't know," I whisper, my vision blurring. "Hours? A day? I've been on suppressants since I was thirteen. I don't know how this works!"
His jaw ticks violently. He lifts me effortlessly, carrying me to the bed. Every point where his skin touches mine feels like a brand. I should push him away. I should fight. But the mate bond is screaming at me to bare my throat, to submit, to let him end this agony.
"Please," I whisper, not even sure what I'm asking for.
He lays me on the bed and pulls back immediately, as if touching me burns him. The loss of contact makes me whimper again, my body reaching out for his heat.
"I'm not going to touch you," he grits out, his entire body rigid with the effort of controlling the monster inside him. "Not like this. Not when you have no choice."
I look up at him through the haze of fever, shocked. Every story I've heard about Alphas and Omegas in heat ends the same way: the Alpha takes what he wants. But Kade is backing away.
"But I am going to lock you in here," he continues, his voice strained and tight. "And I'm going to stand guard outside that door. Because if any other male comes near you while you smell like this..."
His eyes flash red—not gold, but a deep, terrifying crimson. The color of bloodlust.
"I'll rip out their throat with my teeth."
He crosses to the bathroom, returning with a small black bag. He sets it on the nightstand without looking at me. "There are... supplies. For Omegas in heat. Toys. They won't be enough, but they'll help. Use them."
He's backing toward the door, every muscle coiled like he's fighting an invisible leash.
"And Elena? Lock the door from the inside if you can reach it. Because in six hours, when your heat fully hits and you start begging..." His hands clench into fists so tight I hear his knuckles crack. "I'm not sure I'll be strong enough to say no."
The door slams. I hear the lock click from the outside. And then I hear him collapse against it, his breathing ragged and uneven.
We're both prisoners now.
Hours pass. I try the supplies he left. My shaking hands fumble with the vibrator, the slick-producing gel, things designed to simulate what my body is screaming for.
They don't work.
My fingers aren't enough. The toys aren't enough. I need an Alpha. I need a knot. I need him. The pain intensifies until it's a deep, primal ache in my very soul. The mate bond is a vice around my heart, squeezing tighter with every minute I refuse to give in.
I last four hours before I break.
I crawl to the door on my hands and knees, too weak and too desperate to care about pride anymore. My skin is on fire. Slick is running down my thighs. I'm crying, gasping, dying.
"Kade," I whisper against the wood. My voice is wrecked. "Kade, please."
The sob that tears from my throat is raw and broken. "I can't—it hurts—please—"
I hear movement on the other side. The lock clicks, slow and deliberate. The door opens.
He's still dressed, but barely. His shirt is gone. His chest is heaving, muscles coiled so tight they look carved from stone. He looks like he's been in a battle with himself. And losing.
"Say it," he rasps, his hands gripping the doorframe so hard the wood splinters.
"I need..." I can't finish. Shame and need war inside me.
"Say it, Elena. I need to hear you say it."
"I need you," I sob, reaching for him. "I need my Alpha. Please. Make it stop. Please."
Something in his expression breaks. He's across the room in a heartbeat. He lifts me from the floor, cradling me against his burning chest.
"I've got you, Omega," he rumbles against my hair. "I've got you."
He lays me down gently, and the world narrows to just him.