Page 7

Juliet

I ’m on fire.

There’s no other way to describe it.

The heat consumes me from the inside out.

It burns through my blood, twists my thoughts into something raw and animalistic, and I can feel myself slipping away with every breath.

I barely remember the last few hours. All I can do is clutch the edge of the bed, my fingers digging into the sheets as my body shakes.

I need to stop it. I need to control it. But the second I try to focus, the need overwhelms me again. It’s unbearable.

I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried locking myself in my apartment, tried using the suppressant patches and shots until my skin feels like it’s on fire. I even tried to sleep, to escape it. But the second I close my eyes, all I can see is him.

Abel.

His touch. His growl. His scent. He’s all I can think about, all I can smell. I can feel it now, the bond. And it’s too strong. I can’t outrun it. I can’t hide from it anymore. My body calls for him, my mind pleading for release, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

My phone buzzes beside me—an incoming message. I glance at it, fingers trembling, and it’s from him.

Abel: Are you good?

For a moment I stare at the words. I want to beg him to come to me. I want to tell him that I feel the bond, that I need him. Instead, I type out exactly the opposite.

Me: Leave me alone.

I can barely focus on the words. They blur.

They don’t even make sense to me right now.

All I can think about is the heat that rips through me again, dragging me down further into the abyss.

I need him. I need him more than I need to breathe.

More than I need the suppressant. More than I need control.

I writhe in pain. My body screams for my mate, my wolf whimpering in the recesses of my mind. I can feel myself slipping, the bond snapping tighter and tighter around me, and I know I can’t keep pretending I can fight it. I’m not strong enough. I never was.

With shaking hands, I type out a second message.

Me: Please. Abel. Come.

I send it before I can think twice, before my rational mind can stop me. The second my phone goes quiet, I feel it. A shift in the air. A tension that wasn’t there before. And then, like the very ground beneath me is pulling me into something darker, something deeper, and I know he’s coming.

And then darkness consumes me.

****

Abel

I didn’t expect this . I didn’t expect her to reach out. I didn’t expect her to break.

The moment her message hits my phone, I freeze. Every muscle in my body locks up, and the pull is so strong I almost drop the phone.

It’s a cry for help. She’s desperate. I should ignore it. I should stay away. But I know better than that. And I can’t stay away.

For the first time since scenting her, I allow my wolf to take control.

The shift falls over me effortlessly. The moment my paws hit the ground, I’m moving toward her apartment.

Every step feels like I’m dragging myself through thick, molasses-like air, fighting against gravity as I run toward her.

I’m not ready for this. She’s not ready for this.

But none of that matters. Not when I know she’s calling for me. Not when I scent her. It’s more potent than usual and my wolf howls at the moon. She has gone into her heat cycle. I need to get to her, now.

Her heat is going to break her, if it hasn’t already.

When I get close to town, my wolf allows me to shift back. I steal a pair of sweatpants that are hanging outside and run the rest of the way barefoot. The moment I step into her building, the walls feel like they’re closing in on me. Every step is a step closer to claiming her.

I knock on her door. I wait. My pulse is pounding in my ears. I hear her mewl inside and break the lock, stepping inside.

She is lying on the couch. Her eyes meet mine. They’re wide, pupils blown, and her skin flushed a pretty pink. She’s barely wearing anything, just a thin tank top and shorts, but I can see how unsteady she is. How she’s shaking. How she’s barely holding herself together.

I take a step closer to her, my heart hammering in my chest. I look around, moving a bookshelf in front of the door to keep it shut.

“Juliet...” My voice is rough, barely a whisper, but she hears it.

The moment she moves on the couch, I catch a whiff of her scent. It’s sharp, desperate, and wild. It hits me like a freight train. My entire body goes rigid, and my cock hardens even more than it already has. The bond pulls harder, urging me to take her, to claim her as mine.

Her breath catches when she sees the look in my eyes. I can’t stop it. I can’t stop myself. Slowly, I inch closer to her, doing my best not to scare her. I know that an omega’s first heat can be terrifying.

“You’re burning up,” I say, my hand reaching for her before I can think better of it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t—” Her words break off into a strangled gasp as she lifts herself and her body presses into mine, her scent too much.

I pull her closer, unable to help myself. I can feel her body trembling against me, her full breasts and hard nipples pressed against my naked chest. I fight the instinct to sink into her, to claim her the way the bond is demanding.

“Abel...” she whispers, and it’s more than a plea. It’s a command.

And the moment she says my name, my will snaps. My control breaks.

I lift her into my arms, my lips crashing into hers before I can stop myself. The second I taste her it’s like the world implodes. I feel her shiver beneath my touch, and every part of me roars to claim her, to mark her as mine. But I’m still holding back. I’m still fighting.

“Tell me, Juliet,” I growl against her lips. “Tell me you want this.”

She looks up at me, her eyes glassy with need, and in that moment, I know. I know she’s already mine. And she always has been.

“I want you,” she breathes, the words shaky and broken.

And that’s it.

I can’t hold back anymore.