If this were happening to someone else, I might laugh at the absurdity of it all. But there's nothing funny about heat when you're alone and vulnerable. Without proper care, whether it's medication or taking an alpha's knot, heats can be dangerous. And my body is already weakened by illness.
My inner omega is starting to stir, responding to the hormonal changes beginning in my body. The familiar restlessness, the heightened sensitivity to touch and smell, the subtle warming of my skin that has nothing to do with fever. Early signs, but unmistakable. I have maybe twelve hours before it picks up speed.
I need to do something. Anything. Sitting here waiting and doing nothing while Wraith is gone isn't an option.
A bath. That's what I need. Something to cool my overheated skin and wash away the feverish sweat clinging to me. Maybe it will help clear my head enough to think of what to do next.
With a deep breath to steel myself for feeling even shittier, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand carefully. My legs wobble but hold my weight. Progress. When I pick up my backpack, I wobble again, but somehow manage to not lose my balance.
One hand trailing along the wall for support, I shuffle to the bathroom and push open the door, setting my backpack on the tile floor beside the glass stall with the shower and bathtub.
I turn on the faucet, adjusting the temperature until it's lukewarm. Not cold enough to shock my system, but cool enough to bring relief. As the tub fills, I rummage through my backpack, searching for the emergency supplies I always carry.
My fingers close around a small packet of heat-suppressant bath salts. They're not powerful—nothing like the medical-grade shot I need—but they might help take the edge off and, more importantly, help mask my scent from any alphas that might be prowling nearby.
Alphas that might be much worse than Wraith.
They almost certainly are.
What kind of alpha does what Wraith just did for me? Goes out of his way to help an omega safely suppress a heat rather than trying to take advantage of the situation?
Not the kind I'm used to, that's for sure.
Wade would have seen my impending heat as an opportunity, a chance to exert control. He always did. Used my biology against me, made me feel weak and dependent and ashamed.
"Omegas need alphas during heat, Ivy. It's biology. You're being ungrateful."
The burn scar on my shoulder throbs with remembered pain. I press my palm against it, feeling the raised, uneven texture beneath my fingers. If Wade was the living embodiment of everything wrong with alphas, then Wraith feels like his polar opposite.
Quiet where Wade was loud. Patient where Wade was demanding. Respectful where Wade was... not.
And god, devastatingly attractive in a way that makes my stomach flutter despite everything. Those piercing blue eyes communicate more than most people manage with their entire faces. His imposing physique may terrify his opponents, but not me. I've seen the careful control in every movement, the surprising grace in his massive frame.
And while he clearly hates his scars, they have the opposite effect on me. He’s genuinely attractive, not just kind, even though I know whatever he keeps so carefully hidden beneath his mask must be more severe.
I've been conditioned to expect the worst from alphas. To see kindness as the first move in a longer game of manipulation. To always be waiting for the catch, the moment when the mask slips and the monster beneath is revealed.
But what if there isn't a monster this time?
My instincts sure as hell say there isn't.
I turn on the water, surprised by how easily my thoughts drift back toward Wraith as I watch the tub fill up. But maybe it's healthy that I can recognize attraction without immediately feeling terrified and vulnerable.
I pour the crystalline contents into the bathwater, watching as they dissolve into a pale blue cloud. The subtle scent of mint and sage rises with the steam, designed to neutralize the sweet, alluring pheromones my body will soon be pumping out in waves.
Stripping off Wraith's oversized sweatshirt and my clothes feels like shedding a layer of protection, but the promise of clean, soothing water is too tempting to resist. I step into the bath carefully, lowering myself inch by inch until I'm fully submerged up to my shoulders.
Even from here, I can catch his soothing midnight forest scent clinging to the shirt he gave me. The thought of scent matches circles back to me as I sink deeper into the water, letting it lap at my chin.
I'd brushed the possibility aside before. If we were matches, surely he would have said something, done something. That's what alphas do.
But I'm starting to wonder if I was wrong.
If he wouldn't tell me after all.
Wraith is almost painfully shy for an alpha. Trying not to scare me, hiding his face, flinching from his own reflection. Nothing like the assertive alphas I've known who would use a match as immediate claim to possession.
I turn the water off with my foot so I can hear better. Just in case. Even though I know logically no one is getting in, not with the dresser blocking the hatch in the floor.
