"I hated him. I hated that even from miles away, he was the only one my body craved—and the only one who could save me from this fire."
The day was quiet, the kind of quiet that does not feel peaceful; it feels suspicious. I sat at my desk long after Juno had left, fingers tapping against the edge of a half-empty glass of whiskey. His words kept replaying in my head like some cursed record:
"Summoned to the Northern Shifter Kingdom. Within a week."
I still could not believe that Alaric had really pulled the royal card on me: the nerve and the damn audacity of that frustratingly smug bastard.
I scrubbed my hand down my face and leaned back into my chair, staring at the rafters above me. "Unbelievable," I muttered. "He shows up in my office, flirts like a lunatic in front of my entire team, vanishes in the middle of the night like some brooding phantom prince, and now he's yanking me into his kingdom like I'm some pawn."
My wolf stirred restlessly in my chest, not with irritation, but with a low hum of longing. "Mate"
"Don't start," I snapped aloud. "You're supposed to be on my side."
Silence answered me, but the wolf pulsed in the back of my mind like a heartbeat. I hated that it made me think of Alaric again: his ridiculous grin, the infuriating calm when I had yelled at him, the way his eyes seemed to look straight through me. I groaned, downed the last of the whiskey, and finally shoved myself toward bed. If I could not shut my brain off, unconsciousness would do it for me. I don't know how long I'd been asleep when it started. At first, I thought I had not caught it, and I had where my body felt feverish and heavy, like molten lead ran through my veins. My shirt clung to me with sweat, my skin was hypersensitive, and my chest rose and fell with shallow, uneven breaths.
Then came the heat, a wave of it, curling low in my stomach, spreading like fire beneath my skin.
I gasped, eyes snapping open, and the room was pitch-black, save for the faint glow of the moonlight through the cabin window. But it was not the dark that startled me; it was me. My body jerked with an involuntary shudder, my muscles taut and trembling as if they did not belong to me anymore.
"No," I whispered hoarsely, sitting up too fast. The blanket tangled around me, and I shoved it off, stumbling to my feet. "No, no, no. Not now. Not—"
My wolf surged to the surface with a guttural growl. Mate, Find our Mate.
I braced myself against the dresser, knuckles white. "Shut up," I hissed. "We are not doing this. Not here and not like this."
But my body did not care about my protests. Heat licked at every nerve, dragging desperate need to the forefront. My pulse thundered, pheromones pouring out of me uncontrollably, saturating the cabin air until it was thick, intoxicating, suffocating even to myself. I staggered toward the window and yanked it open, cold night air rushing in. I leaned half out of it, desperate for relief, but the wind only ignited me further, carrying my pheromones into the woods like a beacon.
"Great," I groaned, dragging myself back inside. "Now every damn wolf within five miles knows I am in heat. Wonderful."
My wolf only laughed. He will come.
I gritted my teeth. "He's not coming; he is in his kingdom, playing king and avoiding candlelit seduction dinners with his betrothed."
The thought should have calmed me, but instead it twisted the knife deeper. My body ached, desperate for Alaric's scent, his touch, anything to ease the fire consuming me. I collapsed back onto the bed, curling against the sheets that smelled only faintly of woodsmoke and soap. Sweat dampened my temples as I pressed my fist against my mouth to stifle a groan.
"This is hell," I muttered. "Actual, literal hell."
The waves came in intervals, crashing, relentless. Each one worse than the last, and my wolf clawed at me, demanding release, demanding him. My chest rose and fell sharply, my nails digging into the mattress as if that would anchor me.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
It was maddening, like being possessed. Images flickered unbidden behind my eyes: Alaric leaning casually against my office desk, smirking like he owned the place. Alaric's hand brushing my arm when he should not have, and the way his voice dropped lower, silkier, when he had said my name.
I cursed violently, flipping onto my stomach to bury my face in the pillow. "I hate you," I muttered into the fabric. "I hate that you're doing this to me without even being here."
But the pillow muffled the sound of another groan escaping me, half pain, half need, and my wolf purred. "Not hate. Crave."
"Shut up," I begged.
My body was helpless, every nerve ending screaming for touch. My skin was too tight, my blood too hot, my lungs too shallow. I twisted the sheets between my fingers, nails tearing holes into the fabric. It was humiliating. I was Elias Blackthorne, CEO, strategist, untouchable Omega who never needed anyone, and here I was, reduced to a trembling mess because my biology had decided it was time.
Because my fucking mate was not here. At some point, I rolled onto my back, chest heaving, sweat slicking my hair to my forehead. The moonlight spilled across me, cold silver against feverish skin, and my wolf pressed harder, closer, snarling in frustration at my refusal to call out.
"Call him," Black demanded.
"No," I rasped. My throat was raw, my lips dry, but I forced the word out again. "No."
But my resolve was crumbling, and each surge of heat stole more of my strength, each wave left me weaker, trembling, desperate. I dragged an arm over my eyes, cursing silently. If he had been here, if Alaric had walked into this room, the thought alone nearly undid me. My hips jerked up involuntarily, body arching as another wave of fire consumed me.
"Damn it," I whispered, half a sob.
My wolf roared in my mind. "We need him."
I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted copper, and my body was betraying me, every fiber pulling toward him, no matter how much my pride screamed in refusal. I was going to lose this fight. Not tonight, maybe, but soon. And when that happened, when Alaric found out there would be no hiding anymore. Hours passed or minutes. Time blurred into nothing but heat and trembling breaths. I knew only this: the longer it went, the more impossible it became to resist.
At last, when dawn is first light kissing the edge of the horizon, I collapsed against the mattress in exhaustion, body still burning but finally too weak to move. My last thought before sleep claimed to me was one I hated myself for. I wish he were here.