“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go speak with my other guests before dinner is served,” he says smoothly, offering us a tight smile. Before he turns, he gives me one last look, and I can tell that he thinks he’s won this round. Maybe he has.
Do I even want to be mayor if I have to sell my soul to men like Harold Harvey for their donations? I really don’t know anymore.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ava
Stupid. I am so fucking stupid.
The moment Tony pulls back up in front of the mayor’s house, I all but throw myself into the car. Jealousy and betrayal crash through me in equal measure, and even though a distant part of my brain knows I’m being unreasonable, I can’t slow it down. My heat has arrived full force, and my omega has seized the wheel. Logic doesn’t stand a chance.
My mind won’t let go of the image. That blonde bitch wrapped around his arm, fingers digging into his bicep like she belonged there, tilting her face up at him and batting her lashes.Markie-poo.The nickname makes me gag. What kind of ridiculous, infantilizing bullshit is that supposed to be?
A cramp clampsdown low and hard, stealing the air from my lungs. I groan and fold forward, fists pressing into my abdomen to relieve the pain with counter-pressure.
I have no idea what I’m going to do.
“Do you want to find a clinic?” Tony asks gently, already watching me in the rearview mirror.
The suggestion alone makes my heart race. Panic flares quickly, and I shake my head so hard it makes me dizzy. “No. No, just take me home.” My voice comes out strained. “I’ll take more suppressants. Sleeping pills. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”
“Ava,” he says carefully, “we should turn around. You can still talk to him.”
“No!” The word comes out too sharp, and I wince immediately, guilt stacking on top of everything else. Tony doesn’t deserve that. “I’m sorry. I just… no. He’s on a date. With an omega.”
“And?” Tony prompts.
“And he’s going to smell like her,” I snap, the thought making my chest ache. “I can’t let him into my nest like that.” My voice breaks, tears spilling over before I can stop them. My skin feels overheated and hypersensitive, like every nerve is lit up at once. “If he replaced me that fast, then we obviously can’t be mates.”
“That’s not—”
I don’t want to hear it. Whatever reasonable thing he’s about to say has no place here, not when my body is screaming and my heart feels flayed open. I hit the button to raise the partition and curl in on myself,knees pulled tight to my chest. It’s childish. I know it is. But I’m an omega in heat, and I want to be allowed this. Just for a little while.
Everything hurts. My body. My heart. My pride.
Through the haze, I hear Tony’s muffled voice as he calls someone. Shelby, probably. Maybe Jack. I hope it’s Jack. Maybe he can get to Mom, convince her to help me push this off again. I don’t even care how much she yells if she can just make it stop.
I rock gently, a soft, broken sound slipping out of me as my scent floods the enclosed space. Oranges and deep vanilla, rich and unmistakable, scorched at the edges by stress and pain. The cramps deepen, rolling and tearing, and it feels like my uterus is trying to rip itself apart from the inside. My whole body feels that way. I’ve been through heats before. They’re always painful until I can get a knot. But never like this.
My muscles tense and my body convulses against the seat.
By the time the car stops, the seizure has stopped, but the pain has gone so far past tolerable that everything feels unreal, hazy, like I’m drugged. The door opens and light floods in—too bright, too much, and I curl tighter into myself. I don’t want to be out there. Out there is open and exposed. In here, it’s dark and contained.
Where’s Mark?Why isn’t he here?I need Mark.
I shake my head weakly, trying to shove the thought away.No. Mark is with another omega. He chose her. He rejected us.
Hands touch my skin, and I hiss, instinctively trying to pull back, until a familiar scent cuts through the fog. Muted lemon. Jack. “Christ, Mateo, she’s burning up,” he says. His voice sounds distant, warped, like it’s coming through water. I don’t catch Mateo’s reply.
I’m glad Mateo is here with Jack.Maybe he can save me.Or at least comfort Jack if he can’t.
I don’t remember getting out of the car. One second I’m folded into the seat, the next I’m cradled against Jack’s chest, his arms tight around me as he carries me inside.
Where are we going?
I press my face harder into his shoulder. His scent is familiar and would normally soothe me. But it’swrong. So wrong. I need bourbon and leather, not citrus.
Where’s Mark?
