Page 68

They step aside without a word. They don't need to be told what happens when an omega in heat approaches her alpha.

Fritz stands hunched over the tactical table, his powerful body tense as he discusses patrol positions with Thorne. The moment I step through the doorway, his head snaps up, nostrils flaring wide. His golden eyes lock onto mine, pupils contracting instantly to thin vertical slits. Every muscle in his body goes rigid, his tail freezing mid-motion.

The hunger in his eyes is primal, but beneath it, I see a new conflict – the commander warring with the mate, strategy battling instinct. This isn't the cold, calculating commander who claimed me during my first heat. This is something more complex – an alpha torn between his duty to protect the territory and his overwhelming need to claim his mate.

"Out," he growls, not looking away from me. "All of you. Out. Now."

The chamber empties in seconds, soldiers recognizing the barely contained alpha response rippling beneath their commander's controlled exterior. Thorne is the last to leave, shooting a knowing glance between us before pulling the heavy door shut.

The silence hangs thick in the air, broken only by my quickening breath.

"I didn't expect this," I say, my voice already roughening as another wave of heat washes through me. "It shouldn't happen during pregnancy."

"It's the stress." Fritz approaches slowly, his movements deliberate and controlled despite the hunger I can see burning in his eyes. His voice drops to that deeper register that seems to vibrate directly through my bones. "Your body senses the danger and wants more protection."

"The dragons." I nod, sweat trailing down my neck as understanding flickers through the growing fog. "They're too close."

He stops just beyond arm's reach, his chest rising and falling with deliberately measured breaths. I can see the battle raging inside him—the alpha wanting to claim, the commander needing to strategize.

"Your scent will carry beyond the walls," he says, claws extending slightly before he forces them to retract. "The dragons will smell you."

Even through the growing haze of need, I grasp what he's saying. My heat is a beacon in the darkness, broadcasting vulnerability to enemies circling our territory. The very thing that makes me weak could become our strength.

"How long until it hits fully?" Fritz asks, his voice rougher than usual.

I swallow hard, trying to focus as another wave rolls through me. "An hour. Maybe less." I press my thighs together, feeling slick threatening to soak through my leggings. "It's coming on fast."

Fritz's nostrils flare again, drinking in my changing scent. His tail begins lashing behind him in short, sharp movements that betray his struggle for control.

"We have two options," he says, hands clenching into fists at his sides. "I can claim you immediately in secured quarters, or..."

The pause stretches between us. I can almost see the tactical calculations running behind his eyes.

"Or what?" I prompt, struggling to focus as heat pools in my core.

"We use it." His face shifts from hungry alpha to calculating commander. "Your heat scent could create opportunities we haven't considered."

Understanding breaks through the fog clouding my mind. "Bait," I whisper. "The dragons track omega scent."

"Exactly." Fritz begins pacing, every movement tightly controlled. "We could use your scent to lay false trails. Lead them directly into our ambush points."

The plan's brilliance hits me even through the growing haze of need. Dragon scouts specifically target omegas, using our scent to track patrol patterns. By deliberately leaving trails in strategic locations, we could manipulate their movements, draw them right into our waiting claws.

But the risks...

"You'd let me go out there?" I ask, genuinely shocked. "Like this?"

The Fritz I first met would never have considered risking his claimed omega, especially not while in heat, when his possessive instincts should be at their peak. The fact that he's even suggesting this speaks volumes about how our relationship has transformed.

"I'd protect what's mine," he corrects, the possessiveness in his voice sending a shiver through me that has nothing to do with fear. "Always within reach, never outside immediate extraction range."

Another wave of heat crashes through me, stronger than before. My knees nearly buckle as my core clenches around nothing, desperate to be filled. I grab the edge of the tactical table to steady myself.

"What if they catch me before you can reach me?" The question tumbles out as I fight to maintain focus.

Fritz closes the distance between us, his massive form blocking out the torchlight. One clawed hand rises to cup my face with surprising gentleness, deadly weapons cradling my skin with perfect control.

"They won't." The absolute certainty in his voice settles something inside me. "No dragon will ever touch what belongs to me."