One broken human might succeed precisely because she has nothing left to lose.
CHAPTER 9
MAYA
I wake up sweating again.
It's the fifth night in a row, and my nightgown sticks to my skin like I've been running in summer heat. But the palace is perfectly climate-controlled, and the windows show frost covering the gardens outside. There's no reason I should be burning up like this.
I push damp hair back from my face and try to ignore the ache that's been building between my legs for days now. At first, I thought it was just the stress of adjusting to life here. New place, new routine, the intensity of working so closely with Thorian every day.
But this feels... different. More urgent. Like my body is demanding something I can't name.
The dreams don't help either. Every night, the same fragments that leave me gasping awake—heat and hands and a voice like velvet whispering things I can't quite remember but that make my whole body clench with want.
I slip out of bed and pad to the window, pressing my fevered cheek against the cool glass. The memorial garden glows softly in the pre-dawn light, beautiful and peaceful. Nothing like the chaotic sensations racing through my body.
Maybe it's just the magical exposure. That has to be it. After a week of daily sessions with increasingly intensive magical growth work, my system is probably just adjusting to all the new energy flowing through me.
That makes sense. That's logical, scientific.
It has nothing to do with omega biology, despite the nagging voice in my head that keeps pointing out similarities to textbook descriptions of pre-heat symptoms. I'm not an omega. The school testing was thorough, and besides, if I were omega, these symptoms would have started years ago during puberty.
This is just magical adaptation. Nothing more.
A soft knock interrupts my rationalization. "Dr. Nakamura? His Majesty requests your presence in the laboratory."
I glance at the clock—barely past dawn. Usually our sessions don't start until mid-morning.
"I'll be right there," I call back, though my voice comes out breathier than intended.
I dress quickly in one of the simple gowns that appeared in my wardrobe, trying not to notice how the fabric feels rough against my hypersensitive skin. Everything has been affecting me more lately—textures, temperatures, scents that seem more intense than they should be.
The walk to the laboratory takes longer than usual because I have to stop twice when waves of dizziness hit. By the time I reach the familiar flowering corridor, my heart is pounding like I've run a marathon.
Thorian looks up when I enter, and the concerned frown that crosses his face makes my chest tight.
"Maya." He's at my side instantly, one large hand pressing against my forehead. "You're burning up."
His touch sends sparks racing through my entire nervous system. I have to bite my lip to keep from making an embarrassing sound as every nerve ending comes alive at once.
"I'm fine," I manage weakly. "Just having trouble sleeping. Bad dreams."
"What kind of dreams?"
The question is gentle, but there's something in his eyes that suggests he already knows the answer.
"Hot dreams. Confusing ones. I wake up feeling like..." I trail off, unable to describe the desperate ache that's been consuming me.
"Like you're burning from the inside out? Like you need something but can't figure out what?"
I stare at him in shock. "Yes. Exactly like that. How did you know?"
"It's a normal response to working with strong magic," he says, guiding me to a chair with careful hands. "Your body is getting used to all the fertility magic we've been doing. The dreams, the heat, the way everything feels more intense—all expected parts of the process."
Relief floods through me. Normal. Expected. Not some mysterious illness or—worse—biological awakening I don't understand.
"So this will pass?"
