Page 35 of Worthy or Knot (Serendipity Omegaverse #3)

Thirty-Five

COLE

“ O mega,” Marcus murmurs against my ear, drawing me out of the dreamless sleep.

I turn toward him on instinct, swallowing back the dizziness that happens even with my eyes closed.

His lips press against mine, sensing my desire through the bond.

And then his nutmeg is surrounding me again, fresher than all the smells that surround me in my nest. My skin tightens in a way that feels almost familiar, like a taste I can’t quite name. Marcus hums.

“Is your heat close?” he whispers against my lips. “There’s a new edge to your scent I haven’t smelled before.”

I think back to when I had one last. Four months ago? That sounds right.

But Dr. Wales said that coming off the suppressors might trigger one, so maybe I am on the precipice of one right now. It would explain why no amount of their scents seem to satisfy me anymore.

“I might be,” I say, slowly opening my eyes. “The gaps aren’t always consistent.”

Which isn’t untrue. Heats typically happen every six months if no interventions happen—either to trigger one or to stop one.

But just like everything, every Omega has a different window that’s more of their normal.

Some have more variation than others. Mine have always had wider gaps between them, sometimes coming on almost a month earlier than the typical six month window.

“All right.” He runs a thumb across my jaw, marking me with his scent again. “You want anything specific to happen if that’s what this is?”

What I want is for the three of them to fuck me into this mattress until there’s no possible way their scents could be stripped from it and their bruises mark every single inch of my body.

But that’s not what I’m allowed to have.

Not yet, anyway. So I tell him what Dr. Wales said has to happen this time.

“I… I have a sedative in my bathroom drawer.”

A soft wave of disappointment flows across the bond before it’s replaced with acceptance and love.

“I’ll make sure we get you to the Haven so you’re safe through it,” he promises. And then he kisses me, this one softer and briefer. “I have to get to work.”

“Love you,” I tell him as he quietly gets out of my bed, his hair still a mess from our knotting last night. It’s the only thing out of place, though, his slacks and shirt pristine, the hickey I’d left on his collarbone tactfully hidden.

His eyes gleam in the early morning light slowly filling my nest. His voice rumbles through me.

“I know, Omega.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing up the stairs and through the front door. I close my eyes and try to luxuriate in the feel of my bed, of the scent of him still fresh around me. I fall back asleep.

At some point, I wake up, my stomach twisting with hunger, reminding me I haven’t eaten since dinner, and Marcus fucked me to within an inch of my life last night. Twice.

My eyes ache from the sunlight now drenching my room. My muscles ache as I slowly sit up, but I ignore it.

One more day until I meet Dr. Faulks. One more day until I find out if the OBS is going into remission and I’ll finally be free of it. Anticipation settles in my chest. One more day. I can get through one more day of not telling them about it.

I grab my testing kit and medication bag from the bathroom and take it upstairs with me.

I need to take my daily test, but food is more important right now.

My stomach twists again, and a wave of need rushes through my body, all the way to my toes.

I groan with the sudden force of it as recognition hits me.

Marcus was right. It is my heat that he felt, that he smelled in my scent.

I set my phone on the counter and then my kit, pulling out a new strip and nicking my thumb in the practiced motion I’ve used for the last two years.

Once it’s running the test, I turn toward the pantry to grab one of the granola bars.

Easy and mess free. Another wave of need washes through me, and I groan.

I need a knot. I need to be pushed over the counter and held there while my Alpha has his way with me.

The aching in my eyes gets worse as my vision blurs out and doesn’t immediately come back. I count the seconds until I can see again. Thirty-seven.

Oh shit .

I stumble back to the peninsula, the food forgotten, and grab my morning set of pills, quickly taking them dry.

Had I remembered to take my night pills yesterday?

I’m sure I did. I’m always careful to never miss a single dose.

I haven’t had a flare since the Councilmember handed me my match paperwork.

I’ve been… I’ve been stable. Or at least, stable enough.

Dr. Wales’s voice cuts through me, so strong it’s like she’s here with me and not talking over the phone last week when she called with my last round of bloodwork from her office.

Your heat could still trigger a flare. You still need to have your emergency plans in place.

I grab the emergency booster pill, my hands shaking.

Fuck, I cannot have a flare right now. Not when I’m here alone, when they don’t know I’m sick, when my heat is setting in.

As if summoned by the thought, another wave of need courses through me, even stronger than the ones before.

It pulls me all the way under for a long moment.

When I finally resurface and can remember where I am, my head feels like it’s been split open, and I can’t feel most of my legs. My knees give out. There’s an awful crack, and the pain in my head doubles.

And then there’s nothing at all.