My scent.
Everything smelled likeme. Too sharp. Too strong. Too much.
And outside…
God, thesnow.
The first flakes had started falling hours ago—soft and harmless at first. Now it was relentless. It hissed as it hit the windows, rasped like whispers across the roof and deck. Not loud, not really, but persistent. Scraping against my brain like claws.
It soundedwrong. Like it wasn’t falling—it was coming for me.
The world was so quiet out here, it amplified everything.
Too much.
It was alltoo much.
I’d taken the last suppressant forty-eight hours ago. Seventy-two was supposed to be the mark. The real turn. But my body had its own schedule. It always had. And now it was tightening the screws, locking me deeper inside a skin that didn’t fit. The heat was no longer a whisper beneath my skin.
It was wildfire.
I couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t lie down. Couldn’t focus. Couldn’tbreathe.
I’d tried to work. Failed. Tried to read. Failed harder.
The shower hadn’t worked.
The water had gone from blistering hot to ice-cold, and I’d stayed there through both.
I’d braced my hands on the tile, the heels of my palms digging in like that would somehow ground me. I’d bitten my lip until I tasted blood. Let the steam curl around me and tried to pretend it was enough.
Thatthiswould be enough.
But it wasn’t.
It never was.
Now, the couch creaked beneath me as I shifted again, one leg tucked up, the other half off the edge. I pressed the heel of my hand between my thighs, biting back a sound that felt more like frustration than need.
I tried again.
The palm of my hand, then fingers. I slipped a hand past the waistband of my sweats. The thin cotton of my underwear was already damp, and not from the snowmelt I’d tracked inside earlier.
It should’ve worked. Itusedto work.
Back before.
Back when I didn’t have three very real, very untouchable reasons imprinted on the inside of my skull.
Roan, who watched the world like it was a threat and carried it like a burden.
Rhett, who deflected and charmed but had a storm living just under his skin.
Jay, who never touched unless invited, but looked like hecould… and would… if you let him.
I ground the heel of my hand harder, chased the flicker of pleasure and came up short.
Every breath I took was ragged. My pulse thudded behind my eyes. I shifted again, pulled the blanket tighter, tried to block out the cold and the noise and the fire eating its way through my blood.
