Post-heat fatigue. I recognize it from past cycles, but it’s never been this intense before. Then again, I’ve never had a heat this intense before either.
Malik notices my struggle immediately. His expression shifts to concern. “Here, let me help.”
Before I can protest, he’s there, one hand steadying my shoulder while the other brings the water bottle to my lips. I want to feel embarrassed about needing help with something so simple, but I’m too thirsty to care.
I drink the water greedily, not realizing how parched I was until the cool liquid hits my throat. When I finally come up for air, all four of them are watching me with this focused attention that makes my skin prickle.
“Better?” Cole asks. He’s leaning against the dresser, fully dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, arms crossed over his chest. But his eyes are soft, concerned.
I nod, still not quite trusting my voice.
“You need to eat something,” Dax says. He’s sitting on the other side of the nest, and unlike his brothers, he’s still shirtless. The emergency lights cast shadows across his chest, highlighting the hard lines of his torso. “Your body’s been through a lot.”
“I’m okay,” I start to say, but my stomach chooses that moment to growl loudly.
Traitor.
Malik’s lips twitch. “Uh huh. Very convincing.”
“I’ll grab some food,” Jalen offers, starting to stand.
“Wait,” I say quickly, and the word cracks in the quiet room. All four of them freeze, looking at me with varying degrees of concern.
I don’t know what I was going to say. Don’t know why I stopped him. Just... the thought of them leaving, even just to get food, makes something in my chest squeeze tight.
“I mean...” I fumble for words. “I’m not... I don’t need...”
God, I can’t even form a coherent sentence.
“Sierra.” Dax’s voice is gentle in a way I’ve never heard from him before. “What do you need?”
What do I need?
I need to understand what just happened. Need to know if they regret it. Need to figure out why the thought of them walking away makes me want to cry, even though I should want exactly that.
But I can’t say any of that. Can’t make myself that vulnerable when I’m still trying to process everything.
“I just...” I swallow hard. “You don’t have to... I mean, if you want to go, I understand. I know this was... we were all just... biology and...”
I trail off, the words tangling on my tongue.
There’s a long silence. The kind that makes my skin crawl with anxiety. This is it. This is where they politely extract themselves. Where they tell me it was nice helping me through my heat, but now it’s time to go back to ignoring each other.
Then, Cole pushes off from the dresser and comes to sit at the edge of the nest, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from him.
“Sierra,” he says, and his voice is so steady, so sure. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“We just went through your heat with you,” Malik adds. “You really think we’re going to bail the second it’s over?”
“That’s not how pack works,” Jalen says softly.
Pack.
The word makes something flutter in my chest. Dangerous and hopeful and terrifying all at once.
“But we’re not...” I start, then stop. Because what are we? We spent two days in the most intimate situation possible, but that doesn’t make us pack. Biology brought us together. Biology and circumstance, and a storm that trapped us here.
That doesn’t mean anything. Can’t mean anything.
