Page 108 of Knot So Lucky

CHAPTER 19

Convergence

~ELIAS~

Cale is staring at his watch like it's a ticking time bomb about to detonate.

I've been observing him for the past three minutes—timing the intervals between when he checks the display, cataloging the micro-expressions that flash across his face too quickly for most people to catch. Anxiety. Frustration. Something deeper that looks like barely controlled panic wrapped in a veneer of forced calm.

"Are you that obsessed with her that she can't use the washroom without constant surveillance?" I ask, keeping my tone light despite genuine curiosity.

Cale's head snaps up, grey eyes pinning me with a glare that could strip paint.

"That's not why I'm anxious," he says, voice tight with tension that contradicts his words.

He runs a hand through his dark hair—a nervous gesture I'm learning indicates he's working through something he doesn't want to verbalize.

"She didn't look well," he admits finally, the confession clearly costing him. "And Aurora's the type who won't tell anyone she's not feeling her best. She'll push through until she collapses, then insist she's fine from the hospital bed."

I frown, my own observations from the press conference flooding back with uncomfortable clarity.

Aurora had seemed dazed throughout the questioning. Not just tired or overwhelmed, but genuinely disconnected—like her consciousness was only partially tethered to her body while the rest floated somewhere else. Her pupils had been dilated despite the bright lights. Her skin flushed with fever-heat that had nothing to do with ambient temperature.

And when I'd pressed my hand to her forehead in the hallway, she'd been far too warm.

Not quite fever territory, but well above normal body temperature even accounting for the adrenaline crash from racing.

My frown deepens as pieces click together in ways I don't like.

"When was the last time Aurora had her Heat?"

The question comes out more abrupt than intended, but it's important. Critical, even, if my growing suspicion is correct.

Cale's expression shifts from annoyed to confused. "She hasn't gotten a Heat."

I cross my arms, Alpha instincts immediately rejecting that information as impossible.

"That's not possible. She's an Omega. All Omegas get Heats. It's basic biology—hormonal cycles triggered by designation, present from late adolescence onward regardless of external factors."

Cale shakes his head with the certainty of someone who's had this conversation before and knows the facts.

"She takes suppressants. Has been since she was sixteen. Heavy doses that prevent Heat cycles from manifesting."

"Even with suppressants, she should still have a Heat," I counter, and there's urgency creeping into my voice now. "The medications dampen the symptoms, make them more manageable, reduce the fertility window. But they don't eliminate the biological imperative entirely. An Omega who never experiences Heat cycles is an Omega whose body is being chemically prevented from performing essential regulatory functions."

I pause, making sure he's following the implications.

"If she doesn't have Heats—if she's been suppressing them completely for years—she can eventually die. The hormonal buildup becomes toxic. The biological systems start failing. It's not sustainable long-term."

Cale's face goes pale, the color draining so rapidly that I'm briefly concerned he might pass out.

"How do you know this?" he demands, voice rough with barely controlled emotion.

I take a breath, preparing to reveal something I haven't discussed with anyone outside the pack in over two years.

"Because the previous Omega our pack had interest in died. From complications related to Heat suppression."

The words hang heavy in the air between us.