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She struggles to comply, and I have to resist the urge to help her. Any unnecessary touch right now would be dangerous for both of us. But I sit close enough that she can feel my presence, my alpha strength offering stability in the chaos of her heat.

She manages a few spoonfuls of soup and half a bottle of water before another wave hits her. This one is stronger than the others, and she doubles over with a soft cry that makes every protective instinct I have roar to life.

Without thinking, I reach out and place a gentle hand on her back, meaning only to offer comfort. But the moment my skin touches hers, something electric passes between us. Her scent spikes with something richer and more complex, and she practically melts under my touch.

"Oh," she breathes, looking up at me with wonder and fear warring in her expression. "Oh no. This is really bad."

"Why is it bad?" I ask, though my own body is responding to her scent in ways that make it hard to think clearly.

"Because I've spent a year building walls to keep this from happening," she whispers, her voice shaking with emotion. "And you just knocked them all down with one touch."

I understand then. This isn't just about the heat, but it's about the connection between us, the way her omega nature is responding to mine specifically. She's not just dealing with biological need, but with mate recognition that her conscious mind isn't ready to accept.

"Maybe the walls weren't as strong as you thought," I suggest carefully.

She lets out a shaky laugh. "Or maybe you're stronger than I expected." Her eyes flutter closed as another wave hits her. "This is happening so fast. Usually there's more warning, more time to prepare..."

"What do you need right now?" I ask, focusing on the practical rather than the emotional complications we're both feeling.

"I don't know," she admits. "I've never... with an alpha here, everything feels different. Stronger. Like my body doesn't know what to do with comfort that isn't just survival."

I stay with her for the next three hours, watching over her as she rides out the worst of the heat waves. I bring her water when she needs it, adjust the temperature when she gets too hot or too cold, and provide steady, calming presence when the intensity threatens to overwhelm her.

The hardest part is maintaining physical distance when every instinct I have is screaming at me to hold her, to comfort her with touch and scent and the kind of alpha care she's been denying herself. But I force myself to stay in control, to offer only what she explicitly asks for.

She talks to me during the quieter moments between waves, telling me about her friend Sarah, about her year of careful suppression, about her fear of losing control. I listen and offer what reassurance I can, but mostly I just let her know she's not alone.

Around midnight, the heat finally begins to ebb enough for her to think clearly. She sits up slowly, looking around her fortress bedroom like she's seeing it for the first time.

"You stayed," she says quietly.

"I told you I would,” I confirm.

“But you didn't..." She gestures vaguely. "You didn't try to... even when I was asking for..."

"You were in heat," I say simply. "Consent during heat isn't real consent. You told me about your friend, about your fears. I would never take advantage of that vulnerability."

Something shifts in her expression—surprise, relief, and something that might be the beginning of trust. "Thank you," she whispers.

"Don't thank me for basic decency," I say, standing up from the chair I've been occupying. "But you should get some rest. The heat will probably cycle back in a few hours."

"You're leaving?" There's something almost panic in her voice.

"I have to," I say, though it's the last thing I want to do. "You need to process what happened tonight, and I need to... I need to give you space to make decisions without alpha influence."

I can see the conflict in her eyes, and the part of her that wants me to stay warring with the part that's terrified of needing anyone. "Will I see you again? After this is over?"

"Belle," I say gently, "after tonight, everything is different. For both of us. But that's a conversation for when you're not in heat, when you can think clearly about what you want."

I make sure she has everything she needs from water, food, her phone within reach, and then I force myself to leave. Walking away from her is one of the hardest things I've ever done, but I know it's necessary. She needs time to understand what happened between us, and I need time to figure out how to tell my packmates that everything we thought we knew about our future is exactly as Marcus said it would be. It's one thing to suspect something, but knowing it's one hundred percent true is completely different.

The drive home passes in a blur of sensation and emotion. Her scent is still clinging to my clothes, my skin, my hair. Every breath reminds me of how perfectly she fit in my arms, how right it felt to take care of her, how much I want to go back and never leave her alone again.

But I also remember the fear in her eyes, the way she fought against her own biology, the walls she's built to protect herself.Earning her trust is going to take time and patience and proving that not all alphas are like the one who hurt her friend.

By the time I reach the warehouse, I know one thing for certain: Belle Hartwell is our omega, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep her safe and help her heal, even if it means taking things slower than my alpha instincts want.

Because she's worth the wait. She's worth everything.