“Dr. Chang’s cabin,” I say shortly. “We need to make sure she’s prepared for the storm.”
Kai’s eyebrows shoot up. “The pretty doctor? Well, why didn’t you say so? I’ll get my coat.” He dumps the firewood unceremoniously on the porch. “Though I have to say, Noah, this is very unlike you. What happened to yourprofessional boundaries?”
I scowl at him. “It’s called being a good neighbor.”
“Uh-huh.” Kai’s grin is knowing. “And it has nothing to do with you being obsessed with her.”
“I am not,” I protest, though the heat creeping up my neck betrays me.
“Sure, sure.” Kai pats my shoulder as he passes. “And Ghost here is the life of the party.”
Grayson makes a sound that might be a laugh or a growl—it’s hard to tell with him—and heads toward his truck.
I follow, trying to ignore the knot of worry tightening in my gut. It’s just a welfare check. Making sure a colleague has what she needs for the storm. Nothing more.
But as we pile into Grayson’s truck and start the treacherous drive up the mountain, I can’t shake the feeling that everything is about to change. The storm, Holly’s secret, my own conflicted feelings—it’s all converging, like weather systems colliding over the peak.
I mostly hope we’re wrong, that there’s some obvious explanation for why a beta would need to take some of the strongest heat suppressants on the market.
The other part of me, the one struggling to keep a salivating alpha caged, knows precisely what it hopes to find.
ELEVEN
HOLLY
My hands won’t stop shaking.
I set my mug down on the coffee table before I spill hot tea all over myself. Not that it matters—the cabin is freezing despite the wood stove blazing in the corner. I’ve stoked the fire as high as it’ll go, but I’m still shivering.
It’s not the temperature. It’s your mutinous body.
I wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders and try to ignore the telltale signs. The hypersensitivity of my skin. The way my clothes feel like sandpaper against my body. The persistent ache deep in my abdomen that no amount of ibuprofen can touch.
This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening. I only ran out of suppressants a day ago.
But my body disagrees. My heart races, pounding so hard I can feel my pulse in my fingertips, my throat, behind my eyes. I close my eyes and try to breathe through it, counting the seconds between inhales like I’m a panicking patient.
One, two, three, four...
The bottle of Heat Ease sits on the counter, half empty. I took five times the recommended dose an hour ago, desperateto stave off what’s coming, on top of whatever I’ve taken since buying it. The herbal concoction churns in my stomach, making me nauseous. I should know better—I’m a doctor, for heaven’s sake. Overdosing on herbal supplements won’t stop biology.
But desperation makes fools of us all.
A wave of dizziness washes over me, and I press my palms against my eyes.Focus, Holly. Think. What are the early symptoms of heat?
Elevated heart rate. Increased body temperature. Heightened sense of smell. Restlessness. Emotional instability.
Check, check, check, check, and... well, I’m definitely not stable right now.
My thoughts scatter like marbles on a tile floor, rolling away before I can gather them. I reach for my phone to look up a medical reference, but the little crossed-out fan symbol that means I have no cell service mocks me from the top of the screen.
Stupid. Of course, there’s no signal. The storm probably knocked out the power to a local cell tower.
I drag myself to the window, pulling back the curtain to peer outside. Snow falls in thick, heavy sheets, already piling up on the ground. The road is disappearing under a blanket of white, and the other cabins visible through the trees are dark. Marjorie mentioned she’d be staying with her daughter in town during the storm, which means I’m completely alone up here.
Completely alone, and going into heat for the first time in my life.
My stomach clenches again, this time with fear rather than nausea. Maybe I can still make it down the mountain. My car has good tires and four-wheel drive. The nearest hospital is only a few hours away—they’d have a pharmacy with Omegablock. At this point, I’d gladly let myself be admitted as a patient if it meant avoiding what’s coming.
