The heat was wrong.
Not comforting. Not warm. It was thick and cloying, like breathing through steam. Sweat slicked her skin, soaking the back of her neck, her collarbone, the curve between her thighs.
Her chest rose and fell too fast.
She was hot.
Too hot.
Her mouth was dry. Her limbs ached. Her throat felt tight, like she'd been screaming in her sleep.
And she wasn't alone.
A heavy arm was slung across her waist; hand splayed over her stomach. Her back was pressed to something no, someone solid and radiating heat like a goddamn furnace.
Breath ghosted over her shoulder. Slow. Controlled.
Male.
She tensed, fingers curling into the sheets.
The scent hit her a second later that pine, smoke, power and it made her stomach drop.
Not because she didn't recognize it.
Because she did.
The Alpha King.
He was in bed with her.
No.
She was in bed with him.
Her eyes flew open, and she tried to sit up, but the arm around her locked tight.
"Don't," he murmured behind her. Voice low. Rough from sleep.
"You did not just—" she started, shoving at his arm.
"You were burning," he said simply. "Shaking. Clawing at the walls. The bond's hitting hard."
"I didn't ask you to fucking cuddle me."
"You were unconscious. Again. I didn't think consent extended to not letting you seize to death in a corner."
She froze.
Because underneath the rage... she remembered.
Flashes. Fire. Her skin pulsing with pain. Her lungs struggling to pull in air. A need in her chest that felt like claws scraping against bone.
The bond.
It hadn't just snapped. It was digging deeper.
"I'm burning," she whispered.
"I know."
She rolled over, shoving his arm back and ignoring the protesting scream in her ribs. He let her. Didn't stop her.
But when she faced him, everything got worse.
He was shirtless. Of course.
Tattooed chest. Broad shoulders. Jet black hair tousled like he'd been running his hands through it. And those eyes storm-grey, watching her like she was something his.
She hated how fast her body responded.
Hated the way her pulse picked up. The heat that curled low in her stomach.
"I can't breathe," she rasped.
"Because the bond is incomplete."
Her hands clenched the sheets. "You bit me."
"You didn't mark me back."
Her head throbbed. "I don't know how. I haven't shifted."
Something flickered behind his eyes.
"You've never shifted?"
She shook her head once, jaw tight.
"I've never had a wolf. Not one I could feel."
He stared at her, like that broke some kind of law. "Then how have you survived this long?"
"Luck," she snapped. "Bad luck, apparently."
His brow furrowed. "No scent trail. No pack registration. No birth records..."
"I was raised by a man who sold me for a dice debt. Does that sound like someone who signed me up for anything?"
Silence.
And then, softly: "You're cursed."
It wasn't a question. It was an answer neither of them wanted.
Her throat tightened. "That's what I'm starting to think."
He didn't move. Didn't try to comfort her. Just stared, breathing heavy, his wolf pacing behind those cold grey eyes.
"If we don't complete the bond," he said, "it's going to get worse."
"How worse?"
"Fever. Delirium. Hallucinations. Pain."
Her lip curled. "Sounds like a fun weekend."
He didn't smile.
"It ends in death."
She blinked. The air thinned.
"Oh."
"You need to mark me."
Her jaw locked. "I can't. I don't have my wolf. I don't know how."
"Then we find out why."
"And if we can't?"
His eyes darkened.
"Then we burn. Mate."
She didn't remember collapsing. AGAIN.
She did remember waking up burning though. Again.
Vireya clawed at the sheets, sweat-soaked and gasping. Her skin felt too tight. Her bones buzzed under her flesh like something wanted out.
"Eat," came the low command.
Her eyes flicked open. The Alpha King was crouched beside the bed, holding out a steaming bowl and a look that dared her to argue.
"You've already passed out twice," he said, voice flat. "You don't get a third."
She sat up slowly, everything in her body screaming. "You don't get to order me around just because your bite's screwing with my nervous system."
"I'm not ordering," he said. "I'm keeping you alive."
She snatched the bowl from him and ate, even though her stomach twisted with every bite. It tasted like nothing burned herbs and broth and bitterness. She didn't care.
Water came next. She drank it like she'd been in a desert.
Only when she finished did she notice his eyes hadn't left her face. Not once.
"I'm not your pet," she muttered.
"Good," he said. "I already have wolves who listen."
She would've thrown the bowl at his head if her arms worked properly.
A knock at the chamber door cut through the heat between them.
He stood instantly.
"She's here."
Before Vireya could ask who, she was, the door opened and in walked chaos in human form.
The girl-no, woman was tall and sharp-eyed, with thick black curls barely contained in a mess of braids and beads. Her cloak was mismatched fabric and dangling bones. She smelled like wildfire and moon salt and wore a grin like she'd already decided how much fun this was going to be.