It seemed my little prisoner had been busy.
I collapsed the handle of my suitcase and took the stairs two at a time, scenting the air.
Where was she?
I checked her room first. Empty. The bathroom door stood open.
My bedroom was next. I left the case by the door.
The bed was rumpled. The curtains hung half-torn from the rod.
“Lielit,” I called.
Nothing.
I turned back into the hallway, drawing in a deeper breath.
Upstairs, Fenrir said.
The moment I reached the staircase, her scent hit me.
I inhaled.
It was powerful. Dense.
And it felt like home.
I followed the scent to the main bedroom on the floor, frowning when I found it sparsely furnished despite the sweeping ocean view. I wrapped my hand around the knob and twisted it open. I didn’t see her straight away—but her scent hit me like a punch to the gut.
Potent.
More concentrated than ever.
A small lump lay motionless on the bed.
“Lielit.”
She didn’t respond. I strode closer.
That’s when I saw her—brows drawn tight, sweat beading across her forehead. I placed my hand against her skin, forgetting my gloves entirely.
A raging fever.
She was burning up.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, already moving to call the doctor.
She could have been like this for days. Why hadn’t her animal kept her healthy?
She isn’t ill, Fenrir said stiffly.
What?
She is in heat.
“Okay,” I said, confused—until I glanced down.
My knot was already swelling. My cock pressed thick and insistent against my trousers.
