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His scent surrounds me – deeper than I’ve ever noticed before, like it’s responding to my desperate cry for help – and it hits me like an ocean wave crashing against a rocky shore.

My body reacts before my brain can process it. My pulse spikes, my heart races, and I freeze, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

He must sense it, the way I’m trembling, the way my body betrays me.

“Eviana,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, though there’s an edge to it I can’t quite place. “You’re burning up.”

I want to tell him to stay away, to leave me alone, but the words get stuck in my throat. I’m soscared– scared of my omega’s needs, scared of myself, scared of what’s happening. But I can’t stop my body from leaning into his touch.

His hand moves to my shoulder, warm and steady, and the way he touches me...it’s like he’s grounding me somehow. It terrifies me.

But is itmoreterrifying than what’s happening to me right now? At least if I let Dane in it’smy choice.

“I can’t,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “I can’t – take it away...please.” My words come out strangled, a desperate plea I don’t know how to stop. The words are raw, so raw, and I can’t control them anymore. I need him. I need someone. I need relief.

Tears stream down my face and Dane’s eyes darken, but there’s something in them – a tenderness, an understanding – that catches me off guard. He doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t look at me like I’m some fragile thing. He just...looks at me.

“We’ll help you,” he says, his tone firm but gentle, like I’m fragile. Like he’s afraid I’ll break. “I’ll help you, omega. I swear.”

I don’t know why I believe him. Maybe it’s the weight of his promise, or maybe it’s just that I’m desperate enough to cling to anything.

He sweeps me up in his arms before I can protest, lifting me effortlessly as though I weigh nothing. My heart stutters at the closeness, the feel of his muscles beneath me, and my breath catches in my throat. I try not to react, but it’s impossible. Every instinct inside me isscreamingfor him to stay close.

I’m burning up. I need him.

I bury my face into his neck, nuzzling like a cat, desperate to inhale more of his comforting scent. It’s more than that though – I want to drown in it.

And then I hear it – his voice, calling for backup. “Xar,” he says, low and urgent. “Get in here, now.”

My pulse spikes even further as the sound of footsteps follows, the soft echo of Xar’s footsteps on the floor. The storm outside rages louder, but it feels like I’m floating in a different world entirely, one where everything is spinning too fast, too much. I feel dizzy, disoriented, and I’m not sure what’s real anymore.

Dane’s arms tighten around me, and I feel a strange mixture of comfort and panic.

“Just hold on,” he murmurs.

I want to believe him. Ineedto believe him. But everything inside me is screaming torun, to push him away, to escape.

But I can’t.

Not anymore.

I let my head rest against his chest as he carries me, surrendering to the feel of him.

XAR

Dane’s voice is low but urgent when he calls for me. None of us were sleeping tonight anyway. Dane’s been pacing the hallways, Blaise has been strumming his guitar, and I’ve been anxiously scrubbing every inch of the kitchen. I hate that Evie didn’t want us with her tonight. My alpha is clawing at my chest, demanding we go to her. Our mate is suffering and he doesn’t understand why we’re not comforting her.

I’m not sure I understand it either. I want to be in there with her as much as my alpha does.

Yesterday it seemed like she did too. We were making plans together, for a future, forforever.But now she’s pushing us away.

I don’t understand it.

Dane calls my name again and I don’t hesitate. The moment I step into the nest, I see Eviana trembling in his arms, her breaths uneven, her skin flushed and damp. She looks lost, drowning in something she doesn’t understand, and it guts me to see her like this. She shouldn’t be scared. She shouldn’t be suffering like this on her own.

Dane eases her onto the bed of blankets, murmuring reassurances, his touch gentle but deliberate. “She needs you,” he says, eyes dark with something between concern and restraint. “I think it’s best if I give her some space.”

Eviana whimpers at the loss of Dane’s warmth, fingers twitching as though she wants to reach for him, but fear holds her back. Her body doesn’t know what it wants – no, itknows, but she’s spent years fighting against it. Against what she is. Against what she’s been told about alphas like us. And now she doesn’t know how to go against the grain.