I stare at the message, then shove the phone back in my pocket.
Of course, her scent spiked. She’s in heat. That’s what happens.
But knowing that doesn’t stop my body from reacting. My knot swells again, pressing painfully against my jeans. I adjust myself and force my attention back to the generator.
Count the connections. Check the fuel gauge. Monitor the output levels.
I stay down here until my knuckles stop bleeding and my knot finally goes down.
It takes an hour.
And I know it’s only temporary.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sierra
The window won’t close.
I’m standing here in nothing but the oversized t-shirt I hauled on when the shutter flew open. It’s plastered to my overheated skin, getting wet as I stare at this goddamn window that’s stuck open three inches, while rain is pouring into my nest.
My carefully constructed, perfectly arranged, only-source-of-comfort-in-this-nightmare nest.
Water is pooling on the windowsill, dripping down onto the pillows I spent an hour arranging. The sheets are soaked. The fuzzy throw is getting drenched.
And I can’t. Get. The window. To close.
“Come on,” I mutter, gripping the frame and pulling with everything I have. “Close. Please just close.”
It doesn’t budge.
Another wave of heat crashes through me, and I have to stop, leaning against the wall and trying to breathe through it. My skin is on fire. My thighs are slick. My body is screaming for relief I can’t give it.
And now my nest is being destroyed by a broken window.
I want to scream. Want to throw something. Want to collapse on the floor and give up entirely.
Instead, I grab the frame again and pull harder. Maybe if I just apply enough force?—
The frame groans. Something in the mechanism shifts.
“Yes,” I gasp. “Come on, just a little more?—”
I pull harder, putting my full weight into it, and for a moment I think it’s working. The window starts to move, sliding down those crucial inches.
Then my hands slip.
The wet wood slides through my grip, and I stumble backward, feet tangling in the drenched blankets. I try to catch myself on the edge of the bed, but my coordination is shot from the heat. My hand misses the mattress entirely.
I go down hard.
My hip hits the floor first, then my shoulder. Pain explodes through both joints, and a cry tears from my throat before I can stop it.
“Fuck!”
The word comes out loud, raw and hurt and completely undignified.
For a moment, I just lie there, stunned. The pain radiates through my hip and shoulder in waves that compete with the heat still burning through my veins. Rain continues to pour through the window, hitting my ruined nest, the soaked pillows, everything I’ve been clinging to for comfort.
