And I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be, so I crawl under the sheets and burrow myself beside her. Her skin finally feels back to normal as I envelop myself around her, holding her firmly against my chest, where she fits like a glove.
“Get some rest, Omega,” I whisper in her ear, and she shivers before nodding. It only takes a few minutes before her breathing evens out, and I’m left reeling from the entire experience. She feels so right in my arms, like I don’t have a choice in the way I feel about it.
I’ll be by this omega’s side for as long as she wants me, because I truly believe it’s where I belong.
THIRTY-FOUR
Playing: “Fortress” by Bear’s Den
When I start waking up,there’s only confusion. Like after a night of heavy drinking, you feel disoriented and wonder what the hell happened last night. That same feeling courses through my bones now as I come back into reality, the sun poking through the window and almost hitting me in the face. I don’t even remember getting home last night.
But then my eyes open, and my senses start to pick up on things, triggering memories from the night before. My time with the guitar player of Sacred Sound, the cramps, and even Kit bringing me home.
The watermelon aroma on the sheets and the presence of mutual arousal take me back. The pain and heat, and then the utter relief after he took care of me. I can still feel him inside me, the memories sacred despite being muddled by the unexpected heat spike.
My body is sore in the most delicious way, but my heartpumps with anxiety. I make a weird noise, my grogginess leaves me unsteady as I try to sit up to get a drink of water.
Before I can dread reaching over to grab something to drink, there’s a bottle put to my lips. I drink it without question, taking in the liquid as I quench the thirst that arose overnight. When it’s empty, the bottle is discarded, and I finally smell the sweet aroma that haunted my dreams.
“I must have been slacking off if you woke up that thirsty,” Kit jokes, and my body stills. His tone is playful, nothing like the suspicious one I expected. Still, I’m afraid to look at him, to see the questions planted behind his eyes. He must have them. Unbonded omegas don’t have heat spikes. Bonded omegas don’t even have heat spikes thefirst timethey have a heat.
“Opal?” he says when he notices my unease. “Please look at me. Everything is okay.”
My head shakes back and forth on instinct, feeling the need to flee. My fight-or-flight mode becomes activated, but all I do is freeze. My heart beats wildly in my chest, and my omega whines from the stress she feels coursing through me. I can’t help the tremble that takes over my body.
“Baby.” He scoots closer, and even though I can’t stand it, his proximity and scent help to lull me the tiniest bit.
“I don’t know what happened.” I pause, trying to search my brain for literally anything I can use. Any excuse or reason that can explain why last night happened. “Maybe I had too much to drink.”
“Opal.”
I shake my head. “Too much adrenaline, or too much alcohol. Maybe my temperature just had a hard time regulating from being at the bar?—”
“Opal,” he repeats, and something in his tone breaks through my spiral. When I look at him, his eyes are kind but also aware. “It’s okay. I know.”
My eyes bug out of my head as I blanch. My head moves back and forth even faster now. “Know what?”
He sighs gently. “I know about your?—”
“Stop,” I hiss out of instinct, my heart nearly skyrocketing out of my chest. This can’t be happening. Why is this happening? “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Whatever you were about to say,don’t.”
He gives me a look, one that I would think is out of pity if I didn’t know this omega as well as I do. It’s sympathy, through and through. His eyes trail over my face, recognizing how hard this must be for me to hear.
“I’m not going to treat you any differently,” he says, like he knows it’s something I need to hear. “I’ve known for a while.”
Everything seems to halt as confusion fills me. “How?”
Kit moves his hair out of his face, the dark strands stuck in weird places from sleep. I take a moment to mourn the fact that I can’t even appreciate it fully, not with the serious interaction going on between us. “I was going to be a doctor, Opal. I had a hunch when you got sick and said medication couldn’t help, but then I saw you take your pills one morning and it sent me down a rabbit hole.”
I curse at myself. I normally took my pills in my room, but I didn’t want to take any chances after the day I forgot a dose, so I started carrying them with me everywhere. “Maybe you didn’t go down the right rabbit hole,” I suggest, grasping at straws.
Kit gives me a weak smile, one that says he wishes he could brush this under the rug for me but he can’t. “You have Hyper-Hormonal Omega Syndrome. I saw the inhibitors for it; they match your capsules.”
The fight fizzles out of me. I’m not sure what to say or how to even begin explaining myself. It’s a big part of my life, and I’ve kept it a secret from everyone close to me, besides Cindy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s upset with me forkeeping this from him, especially since he could have been helping me.
But instead of anger or disgust, Kit’s expression bleeds with compassion. He wraps my hand in his and squeezes steadily, anchoring me to him. When he speaks, it’s slow and purposeful.
“I’m sorry this happened to you, Opal.” His free hand comes up to my cheek, his eye contact holding me hostage, but it’s not uncomfortable. I feel sick with Stockholm as he pierces me with his gaze and tells me everything I need to hear. “You don’t deserve to live like this. No omega deserves this. I’m so sorry.”
