Page 7

"Fuck, how do I explain this?" I run a hand through my hair, pulling it loose from its tie. "Well, it seems you're a recessive Omega. Some humans carry shifter genes without knowing it. They stay dormant until..."

"Until what?" she demands, her cheeks flushed pink.

"Until they're exposed to compatible Alpha's pheromones. Someone like me." The guilt crashes over me. I came here for help, and instead, I've triggered something that will change her life forever. "I'm sorry. This is my fault."

She shakes her head frantically. "That doesn't make sense. I've been around shifters before. I work with shifter blood samples every day."

"It's not just any shifter. It must be..." I hesitate, not wanting to say the words that will make this real. "It has to be someone your body recognizes as a potential mate."

"Mate?" She laughs, but it sounds more like a sob. "That's insane. I don't even know you."

"Your body doesn't care." I hold out my hand. "Come on, you need to lie down. This is only going to get worse."

She stares at my hand for a long moment before taking it. The moment our skin touches, electricity shoots up my arm. She gasps, feeling it too.

"Oh god," she whispers.

I help her to her feet, and she stumbles against me, her body hot even through her clothes. I guide her to the living room, keeping my touch as clinical as possible despite my wolf howling to pull her closer.

"Sit," I say, leading her to the couch. "I'll get you some water."

She collapses onto the cushions, her breathing shallow. "I don't understand any of this."

I kneel in front of her, trying to keep my eyes on her face and not the way her nipples have hardened against her thin shirt. "Your body is going into heat. It wants to mate."

"Heat? Like an animal?" Her eyes flash with anger through the haze of arousal. "I'm not an animal."

"Neither am I," I growl, then immediately regret my tone when she flinches. "Sorry. But this is natural for our kind. Your body is preparing itself to bond with an Alpha."

"I don't want to bond with anyone!" She presses her palms against her eyes. "Make it stop."

"I can't." I stand up, needing distance from her scent. "I'm going to get you some water. Try to... try to stay calm."

I escape to her kitchen, gripping the edge of the counter so hard I hear the laminate crack. My cock is painfully hard, straining against my jeans. Her scent follows me, growing stronger by the minute. I grab a glass from her cabinet and fill it with cold water,trying to focus on the simple task and not the primal need to return to her side.

When I walk back into the living room, I nearly drop the glass.

Dahlia has stripped down to her bra and panties, her clothes scattered on the floor. Her skin glistens with sweat, and her dark curls stick to her neck and forehead. The black lace of her underwear stands out against her pale skin, and I can see the wet spot forming between her thighs.

"Jesus Christ," I mutter, my mouth going dry.

"It's so hot," she moans, arching her back. "I can't stand it."

I set the water down on the coffee table with a shaking hand. "You need to put your clothes back on."

"No." She kicks them further away. "Everything hurts. My skin is on fire."

I force myself to look away, but her scent is everywhere, clouding my judgment. "Drink the water. I'll get a cool rag and a bowl of water. It might help bring your temperature down."

"Hurry," she whispers, her hands moving restlessly over her stomach.

I practically run to the bathroom, turning on the cold tap and filling a bowl. I grab a washcloth and soak it, wringing it out before heading back. I need to keep it together. She doesn'tunderstand what's happening to her body. Taking advantage would make me no better than the animals humans think we are.

"This will help," I say, more to convince myself than her. "Just try to—"

The words die in my throat.

Dahlia lies completely naked on the couch, her bra and panties now tossed aside. Her hands move over her body. One is pinching and rolling her nipple between her fingers, the other is buried between her thighs. Her back arches off the cushions as her fingers work inside herself. The sound of her wetness is audible in the quiet room.