“His wolf-sense is coming back, just not all at once,” Luke cautioned, handing some orange juice to Lycan.
Seath nodded, wondering how he smelled to Lycan. Was it this wonderful? This strange play of enticing and comforting at the same time?
“And how do you feel?” Seath asked.
“Better. I like the sun.” Lycan gave a little smile and Seath returned it. “Feel like I can’t get warm enough.”
“Wolves run hotter than you have been,” Luke said, “could be your body getting back in-touch with its wolf.”
“So there’s a chance I could. . . I could shift?” Lycan asked, almost at a whisper.
“We think so. But, just like the wolf senses, it may come in parts. In waves. In starts and stops,” Luke warned.
Lycan smiled nervously. “Thank you all for this—for any piece I get back.”
“It’s what we do,” Seath said, trying to avoid the grateful gaze in Lycan’s eyes if he was going to get through the Holding.
Seath shifted, a massive wolf standing where he had been, amber eyes and a warm grey coat, thick and lush, and then curled next to Lycan’s body.
His wolf almost purred when Lycan’s skin rubbed his fur, and so damn much of it, as Lycan was only in briefs, his skin left to the healing sun. He snuggled in, letting his wolf get as close as it wanted to the omega, which was as close as one could get, wrapping even his tail around the smaller man.
Seath could pick up something that smelled sweet and sexy. Like adventure and home all at once. It was there, feelings tied into the citrus-herb scent of Lycan.
Deep inside, something new stirred in Seath, winds twisting the storm in his gut that was picking up strength.
Chapter ten
So Very Wrong
Despitethetouch-therapyinthe porch with Seath, Lycan did not feel well all day. It was strange, because laying with Seath, in his wolf form, had been an incredible experience. He felt peaceful and safe next to the furry bulk of the Pack Legate, somehow even safer than when he was in his own rooms behind a locked and warded door. While he knew that Alphas could be gentle, they weren’t all like the man who had kept him in silver, somehow, knowing didn’t seem to matter. He still felt a bit uncomfortable around them, unless he was with or around Seath.
And being around Seath was secretly one of his favorite things. He liked how the big Alpha moved, how he carried himself, how a small half-smile formed when he was happy about something. How his anger was always directed, always had purpose when it showed up. Never had he seen Seath get mad in a general sort of way, it was always intentional and responsive. Lycan remembered the feel of anger differently. A free-floating sort of thing that was always a hazard, a trap to be wary of, and that could shift to fill any occupied space, whether related to the source of the anger or not. That was as far as he could get though, before the memory became too sharp and the thoughts too slippery to hold.
Lycan tried to shake off his strange feelings. But, he felt off today and assumed it was a combination of new scents and smells and also a combination of the strange new feeling he carried. A feeling that his mind was full of flower buds, little memories and ideas waiting to open for the sun.
And Lycan was the sun, or he felt like it. A burning warmth in his core that only got worse throughout the day. Lycan was hot, despite feeling cold all night, and somewhat uncomfortable no matter what he did. There was a strange, empty sort of desperation inside him.
The next morning, there was no mistake what was wrong with him when he woke up shaking, the heat of his skin now burning, and a need pulsing low in his gut.
Lycan stumbled out of bed, then realized he had made quite a proper nest in his little room. His first thought was to go to the Enforcers who stood guard in the hallways of the Pack House. Enforcers were always ready to help, to assist.
But, most of them were Alphas, and he didn’t know what happened in this pack when omegas went into heat.
He knew the heat for what it was, but in his brain, there was no memory of it. So much of what had happened to him before he arrived at Seath’s Pack had been taken from his memories or locked down, but he still could feel those memories there. He knew the thoughts were in his brain, and if it would hurt to get to them.
This was different. His only memories were of others in heat, not himself. Had he never had one?
Lycan grabbed his phone and called Van. Van would know what to do. He was mated, so surely he knew all about heats. Plus, they lived in the Pack House, close to Lycan.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Van’s voice filled the phone and Lycan could breathe.
“Better get to him, honey, he needs you.” That was Puck’s sleepy voice in the background.
Lycan whimpered. If an Alpha could sense his predicament over the phone . . ..
“Shushhh,” Van said, his voice low and soothing. Lycan must have whimpered out loud. He heard the rustle of clothes, and then what sounded like a sleepy kiss.
“I’m coming down the hall now, almost to you.”
