Page 48 of Want It All

My omega stirred. Something isn’t right .

A sense of wrongness pushed down on me like a weight. I paused in the act of submitting my practise exam, my fingers suddenly trembling.

Sebastian.

Not for the first time, I wished that I’d let him bite me. If he’d bitten me, I’d know more through the bond; as it was, I only knew that something had changed, that something was wrong , and that I needed to get back to him.

I clicked the submit button and impatiently waited for the confirmation page to load, shoving my drink bottle and reference notes back in my bag. When a message popped up on my laptop saying I’d submitted my exam successfully, I screenshot it, saved the image, then shut my laptop.

‘Ms. Morris?’

I looked up to see Professor Heathcote eyeing me with barely disguised distaste. ‘I need to go. It’s a personal matter.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Class hasn’t finished yet.’

‘I’ve submitted my exam.’

He cleared his throat. ‘And, as I said, class hasn’t finished yet.’

Fuck, this man was an asshole. ‘I appreciate that, and I apologise for the disruption, but I need to go.’ I glanced to the side to see Tristan watching me, frowning.

Are you okay? he mouthed. I could see his laptop screen was on one of the last questions, though he still had a few to complete.

I spent half a moment bemoaning the fact that he hadn’t bitten me, either.

I gave a slight shrug, not wanting to lie to him, but not wanting to worry him, either, not when all I had was a feeling of wrongness and he hadn’t finished his exam. His frown deepened, but he turned to the front. ‘I’ll take notes for Rose.’

Heathcote’s lips thinned. ‘It seems you’re making a habit of that, Mr. Grace.’

Tristan’s stare didn’t waver. ‘Isn’t that what a good alpha does for their pack?’

Oh .

I felt a rush of emotion – elation, relief, gratitude. Tristan had claimed me, publicly, as part of his pack.

I hadn’t known if I’d fully forgiven him, or whether he was ready to take that next step. But my chest went tight and my fingers burned with the urge to touch him; something in me eased, knowing this alpha – my alpha – had my back.

I swallowed. ‘Thank you, Tristan,’ I whispered, and shouldered my bag, slipping from the library as he and Heathcote continued their staring competition.

I knew which one of them would win.

I rushed to the apartment; our apartment, now, I supposed.

The promised storm had arrived with a vengeance and it was dark as fuck outside, the wind howling like a pack of wolves.

There was supposed to be a movie night after dinner in the First Year Library, and the weather would be perfect for a horror film.

The feeling of wrongness grew stronger as I took the stairs two at once; I all but ran down the hallway, my fingers trembling as I unlocked the door and pushed it open.

‘Seb?’

There was no answer. He wasn’t in the kitchen, nor the lounge room. I dumped my bag and laptop on the couch, then dashed into the nest.

He wasn’t on the nest-bed. ‘Seb?’ I called again, turning to check the bathroom.

I stopped when I heard a soft groan.

It came from behind the bed, between it and the window. Sebastian was on the floor, curled up in the small space, his arms wrapped around his stomach. His brow was covered in a sheen of sweat and his cheeks were a deep, hectic red.

‘Seb, baby, holy shit,’ I babbled, sinking to my knees. ‘What –’

He groaned again. ‘Hurts.’

A wave of perfume washed over me, and the taste of cherries – so potent I might have bitten into a handful – slid down my throat. It was strong, far stronger than it should have been with blockers, and my body responded with a flood of its own perfume and a sudden rush of slick.

I understood, then.

‘Seb, fuck.’ I hurried to close the blinds. There was no sun coming from outside, but the storm clouds looked as though they were full of lightning, which would be even worse for his over-sensitive eyes. ‘Seb, baby, you’re in heat.’

‘Can’t be,’ he panted. His body seized as a wave of pain rolled through him. I knew from experience how bad it was, and how he’d be burning up one minute and freezing cold the next, how bright lights would hurt his eyes and how his skin would feel like a livewire.

‘I’ll run you a bath.’ I dashed to the lounge room and fished in my bag for my phone.

Tristan didn’t answer when I called, so I sent him a text as I ran to the bathroom.

I left the light off, running the water until it was hot enough to relax muscles but not enough to burn.

I didn’t add any oils or bubbles, because I didn’t know what scent he’d be craving, but I did light a candle that wafted a delicious, subtle vanilla.

Tristan hadn’t responded to my text by the time I got back to the nest. I slowly coaxed Sebastian out of his pyjamas and into the bathroom. Thunder rumbled outside, and I saw the sparking brightness of lightning when it flashed behind the curtains.

Sebastian’s cock was red and swollen, precum pooling at the tip as he stumbled to the bathroom. I tried not to touch him, because I knew his skin would be over-sensitive until the heat settled in properly. ‘Seb, baby, have you been taking your heat suppressants?’

‘Of course,’ he said crossly. ‘I never forget, and even if I did, Tristan would remind me. I can’t be in heat, Rosebud. I just have the flu or something.’

‘Sure.’ I held out my arm to help him into the tub; he sighed in pleasure as he sank down and the hot water hit his tight muscles. ‘A flu that’s given you stomach cramps, backache, light and skin sensitivity, and a raging boner. Makes sense.’

He opened his beautiful blue eyes to scowl at me. ‘It’s not a heat, Rose.’

‘Okay. You won’t want your alpha, then.’

His pupils blew out immediately; beneath the water, his cock jumped, as if it had a mind of its own. He glared at me. ‘That means nothing,’ he insisted. ‘I always want my alpha.’

Which was true, but I suspected that in half an hour or so, Sebastian would be begging for him.

I called Tristan again; again, he didn’t answer. Where are you? I sent, unease churning in my stomach. Seb is in pre-heat. You need to be here.

My poor omega sank to lie in the water and closed his eyes. His golden hair flowed out in a waving halo, his cheeks still pink with a heat-flush.

He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

I slipped from the bathroom and into the kitchen, opening the fridge.

We had every snack known to humankind – thank you, Tristan – but they were mostly sweet.

There was nothing savoury other than artisan cheese and crackers, and dairy wasn’t the best idea during a heat.

Sandwiches or wraps would be better, or a roasted vegetable salad.

There were plenty of energy drinks, at least, and about a hundred bottles of fancy water, because Tristan didn’t like the way the Banksia water tasted.

I’d made fun of him, but I was glad for it now. I stuffed some bottles into the freezer and made sure there were plenty of others in the fridge.

I called Tristan again, but he didn’t pick up.

I brought up the Banksia app on my phone and ordered dinner to our room, selecting illness from the dropdown of reasons, and noted that Sebastian and I seemed to have the flu and might need our meals delivered for a few days.

I didn’t know if there was a limit to it – surely they’d send the on-campus doctor if it went for too long – but we’d cross that bridge when we got there.

I made my way into the nest. I’d already closed the blinds against the lightning, so I turned on one set of fairy lights – the smallest ones that threw the faintest light.

I’d seen Sebastian’s usual coverlet in the hallway and noticed that Tristan’s now covered the bed; my heart ached for Sebastian, building his nest alone, not knowing what was happening.

There were untouched snacks on the bedside table already, so I left them where they were.

I fetched a couple of drinks to put next to them, then checked that all the food was wrapped up tightly so that Sebastian wouldn’t be affected by any errant smells.

I had a flashback to my heat, when one of the heat alphas had eaten something garlicky earlier in the day.

I’d almost thrown up and I loved garlic – in normal times, at least.

I was relieved Sebastian would never experience that.

He wouldn’t know what it was like to be naked and vulnerable with strangers, even if they were professionals.

He wouldn’t know what it was like to accept someone he’d never met before into his body, wouldn’t beg a stranger for a bite.

He’d be touched by familiar hands, loved and cherished by the alpha he’d chosen and his own scent match.

I loved him, I realised. It seemed insane to say so – which was why I hadn’t voiced it yet – but I didn’t understand how anyone could meet my omega and not fall head over heels.

He was my scent match, and the way he’d looked at me in the last few weeks …

Who could blame me for losing my heart? The warmth of my love for him settled easily next to the pleasant, comforting ache I felt for Byron, the feelings surging together like the tide.

I was keeping space there for Tristan, too. We hadn’t talked about it, but he’d shown me that he cared for me, holding me when I cried, stroking my hair when I’d had a nightmare, claiming me as part of his pack. It would be an honour to have him as my alpha.

I called him again, but there was no answer.

I went back into the bathroom. Sebastian’s cheeks were flushed bright red, and his hand was wrapped around his cock. He pumped it slowly, but I knew it wasn’t because he wanted to draw out the feeling; he was going slow because it was painful to touch.