I hate that right now, with my body screaming for a knot that didn't come, all I want to do is crawl into that nest and surround myself with his scent until the aching stops.
"Someone's in a mood," an amused voice observes from the window seat.
I whirl to find Ivy lounging comfortably among the silk cushions, her silver-blonde hair shifting through a rainbow of curious colors as she studies me. Her wings flutter slightly as she tilts her head.
"Not now, Ivy," I snap, resuming my pacing. The light magic pulses brighter with my frustration, and I consciously rein it in before I accidentally set something ablaze.
"Oh, but I think precisely now," she counters, floating upward to block my path. "Especially after what I just witnessed in the study. My, my, my—who knew the big bad Alpha could be so easily rattled by a single name?"
I freeze mid-step. "You were watching?"
"Of course I was watching! What kind of fairy confidante would I be if I missed the juiciest parts? And that was definitely juicy—right up until it wasn't." She makes an explosive gesture with her hands. "Boom! Total Alpha meltdown. All those pheromones everywhere, then suddenly grief-scent so thick I could taste it from three rooms away."
She pauses, her expression growing more serious. "Alpha grief-scent,Sera. Do you know how rare that is? It smells like rain and ashes, like winter and decay. Alphas almost never show that kind of vulnerability."
Heat floods my face. "It wasn't…we weren't…"
"Oh, please." Ivy circles me, her iridescent wings catching the lamplight. "You were bent over his desk with your skirts up and your dignity down, absolutely dripping with slick for your Alpha. Not that I blame you—those shadows of his seem remarkably...dexterous. And that Alpha voice of his? Devastating."
"Stop it," I hiss, crossing my arms defensively.
"And then," she claps her hands together, "just when things were getting properly interesting—when I thought he was finally going to knot you, maybe even bite you—he calls out another woman's name! Another Omega's name, from the grief-scent that followed."
Her eyes scan the room as she speaks, then stop abruptly on the corner. Her eyebrows climb toward her hairline.
"Well, well," she says slowly, floating toward the pile of fabrics. "Someone's been busy."
"Don't," I warn, my voice sharp with humiliation.
"It's a nest, Sera." She pokes at the edge of it with one delicate finger, then sniffs. Her expression shifts to something between amusement and concern. "A rather impressive one, actually. And it absolutely reeks of your Alpha." She turns to look at me. "How long has this been here?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Your Omega is nesting. That only happens when—" She stops, realization dawning. "Oh, Sera. You're going into heat, aren't you? Full heat, not just pre-heat."
"I am not?—"
"You are." Her voice is gentle now, all teasing gone. "The nest, the slick I can smell from here, the way your scent has changed... this is it, Sera. After nine years of suppression, it's going to hit you like a tidal wave. Hours, maybe a day at most."
I sink to the floor, wrapping my arms around myself. "What happens when it hits?"
Ivy's wings droop. "You're going to need an Alpha. Your Alpha. There's no fighting it, not after this long. Your body will demand completion, and if you don't get it..." She crouches beside me. "Heat fever. Delirium. Possible permanent damage to your Omega biology."
I stare at the nest in the corner—the nest my body built for the Alpha I'm supposed to destroy.
"I know you hate him," Ivy continues softly. "I know this isn't what you wanted. But Sera... when your heat breaks fully, you need to let him help you. The alternative is so much worse."
I turn away, unwilling to let her see how deeply the incident has affected me. The rational part of my mind knows this reaction is dangerous. I cannot afford to care about Malakai's past lovers. My mission, my brother's life, everything depends on maintaining emotional distance.
I twist my mother's ring on my finger three times, but it doesn't give me the grounding effect it once did.
I turn away, unwilling to let her see how deeply the incident has affected me. The rational part of my mind knows this reaction is dangerous. I cannot afford to care about Malakai's past lovers. My mission, my brother's life, everything depends on maintaining emotional distance.
I twist my mother's ring on my finger three times, but it doesn't give me the grounding effect it once did.
"You're positively vibrating with unresolved tension," Ivy observes. "And something else. Could it be... jealousy?"
She settles on the edge of my dressing table, her ancient eyes suddenly grave. "Incomplete fated bonds are rare, Sera. I've only seen three in four hundred years of existence. Two ended in madness. Both parties were driven insane by the pull of a bond that couldn't be completed."
