"You didn't cost me anything." I cup her face again, needing her to see the truth in my eyes. "You freed me. From expectations I never wanted to meet. From a future that would have made me miserable. From becoming my father." I press my forehead to hers again. "You saved me, Vespera. Even when I was too stupid and scared to see it."
"I'm still so angry with you."
"I know."
"And I don't know if I can forgive you."
"I know." My voice cracks. "And that's your right. To stay angry. To not forgive. To decide I'm not worth the risk. But please—" The desperation bleeds through. "Please let me helpyou through this heat. Let me take care of you. And when it's over, when you can think clearly again—you can decide if you want me to stay or go."
"That's not fair." Her voice is getting breathier, the heat pulling at her. "Using biology to—"
"Nothing about this is fair," I agree. "But I'm here. I'm not leaving. I'm not hiding. And I'm going to spend the next three days proving that I mean every word I just said."
"Even if my body's choice isn't my real choice?"
"Your body knows what it needs." I press a kiss to her forehead, gentle despite the rut roaring in my veins. "And right now it needs comfort. Safety. Pack. Let me give you that. Let us give you that. And when the heat's over—when the biology isn't influencing anything—we'll figure out the rest."
She's quiet for a long stretch, studying my face. The heat is building—I see it in her dilated pupils, smell it in the thickening jasmine—but she's fighting to stay present for this conversation.
"Promise me something," she says finally.
"Anything."
"Promise you won't regret this. Choosing me over them."
"I promise." And I mean it with everything I am. "The only thing I'd regret is letting you go."
"Okay," she whispers. "Okay."
The relief is crushing.
I pull her against me, letting her burrow into my scent. She's shaking hard now, fever spiking, and I can feel slick starting to soak through her clothes.
"Oakley." My voice is Alpha command. "Call De Scarzis. Tell him she won't be at rehearsal for the next three days. Medical emergency."
"Already drafting the email," Corvus says, phone in hand. "What else?"
"Food. Water. Everything she'll need." I'm pulling off my shirt as I speak, the one I've been wearing for the past two days. The one saturated with my scent. "And get whatever nest materials we bought last time. The good stuff."
"On it." Oakley is already moving.
"How much time do we have?" Corvus asks quietly.
"Hour. Maybe less." I'm tracking every change in her scent, every shift in her breathing. "She's going to drop hard when the full heat hits."
"Then we work fast." Oakley returns with arms full of fabric—cashmere, silk, merino wool. The expensive materials we bought last time, still pristine in their packaging. "Let's build her something worthy of a queen."
Despite everything, Vespera huffs a weak laugh against my chest. "That's so cheesy."
"But accurate," I murmur into her hair. "You're pack royalty. About time we treated you like it."
She pulls back enough to look at me, eyes fever-bright and questioning. "I love you too," she whispers. "Even though you're an idiot. Even though I'm still angry. Even though you made me feel like shit for three days." Her hand comes up to cup my cheek. "But if you ever shut me out like that again—"
"I won't." I turn to press a kiss to her palm. "Never again. You have my word. My oath. My everything."
"Good." Another wave makes her shudder. "Now less talking, more nest building. Because this is getting really uncomfortable."
"On it," Oakley says, already laying out cashmere across the bed. "Dorian, Corvus—we're doing this right. No half-assing it this time."
