The thought made my breath catch.
What were they to me? Strangers. Alphas. Rebels. Possibly liars.
And yet when I imagined them leaving—walking back through the thorn barrier and disappearing into the forest—the idea made me despair.
I pressed my hand more firmly against my stomach. The throbbing heat intensified.
It wasn’t just warmth now. It was scent.
At first, I thought I imagined it—a faint sweetness threading through the nest. Then it thickened, unmistakable. Honey and something floral beneath it, rising from my skin like heat from sun-warmed stone.
My pulse stuttered. No. Not again.
I sat up too quickly, dizziness sweeping through me. The atmosphere seemed to have increased in density and thickness. My thoughts scattered. The edges of the room seemed to blur slightly, as if my focus was gone.
I drew in a breath and nearly choked on my own scent.
It was stronger this time. Less frantic than the first spike, but deeper. More deliberate. My body wasn’t panicking. It was preparing.
I panicked anyway.
Father’s voice surfaced in memory, calm and instructive.
You will consume them. You won’t mean to. You will reach, and they will not survive it.
My hands began to shake. I couldn’t hurt them. I didn’t want to.
I tried to stand and nearly stumbled, catching myself against the carved shelf. The heat pooled low and heavy, spreading outward in slow waves that made my knees weaken. All my nerves seemed stretched to their limit. The thought of Malric or Thane entering this room sent a sharp bolt through me that was not fear.
It wasneed. The realization terrified me more than anything else.
A knock sounded at my door.
“Aveline?” Thane’s voice carried through the wood, steady but edged with concern. “Are you all right? Do you want to come down for lunch?”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
He would smell it. Of course he would.
Now, the smell was all around me, so strong it felt like it was coating my hair, skin, and the cloth I touched. The nest no longer felt protective. It felt saturated.
I opened my mouth to answer and couldn’t speak.
“I—” I swallowed, then tried again. “I think it’s happening again.”
There was a pause on the other side of the door. Not retreat. Not hesitation.
A shift in the air, as if he’d stepped closer without touching the handle.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
“Yes.” The word came out sharper than I intended. “Don’t come in.”
My body reacted instantly to the thought of him doing exactly that. Heat surged higher, curling through my limbs, tightening low in my belly with a pressure that made my breath hitch.
I pressed my back against the wall, fighting the urge to reach for the door.
“I don’t know what I’ll do,” I admitted. “I don’t know if I’ll hurt you.”
