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Nothing helps. My body is like a runaway truck, barreling in the direction it will go. Maybe there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

No—I can get out of here. Away from her scent.

I step out into the hallway, turn toward the stairs so I can go down, shrug on my coat, head out into the night. It might be blizzarding right now, but maybe that will be good for me. Maybe it will keep me from overheating. I think I read somewhere that being cold can stop a rut. Father always said it was important to spend more time in the library—we have dozens of books on alpha biology. I really should have paid more attention to them.

As much as I truly intended to turn right, go down the stairs, and throw myself into the night, I don’t. My body turns left, my feet leading me down the hallway and toward the guest quarters.

Walking quickly, I pray I run into Kellen. Aurora. Anyone who might see me in this state and call for action. Aurora would be horrified at the idea of me going to Mylah like that—and rightly so. She’s a captive here. I would never use an omega like that, the way other alphas are known to do.

And yet, here you are. Heading to her bedroom.

It’s different. She’s my mate.

Yeah? So tell the guys that. Tell anyone that.

I can’t.

Mylah as my fated mate would be another headache. We’re already dealing with all this Gavyn bullshit.

When I first met her, I wasn’t even king yet. I had to keep her a secret so my father wouldn’t panic and choose another successor to the role. Then I was crowned and had other things to worry about. Mylah in the distance just meant I had to spend a few days every month in my bedroom, ignoring the calls. Ignoring the pain.

Everything is different now.

What am I supposed to do? She can’t stay here—I’m already weak. Already going to her.

But she can’t go. I can’t stomach the thought of her being vulnerable, and especially not after seeing Denvil’s men like that. Whatever did that to them was up against capable warriors.

Mylah wouldn’t stand a single chance.

The thought of her in danger is the first thing that slows the desire inside me. I try to stay on that train, to think of her in front of that bear again, but it’s painful.

I am going into a rut, and there’s nothing that’s going to stop it.

Finally, when I get to the guest quarters, I am absolutely swimming through her scent. It’s thick here. Luxurious, heavy. Like entering one of those luxury stores but completely tailored to me. A custom experience.

Her scent is calling to me, begging me to come near her. She might not be in her heat yet, but it will happen any hour. Any minute. I can tell it, and my body is telling me to be with her, to lock the door and wrap my body around her and put a baby inside her.

Mylah belongs to me. It’s been a long time since I stopped pretending that wasn’t true.

She is mine, and I am going to her, and there’s nothing and nobody that can stop me.

That is, until I get to her door, knocking frantically and pushing it open at the same time, not even registering the fact that there’s no guard standing near. I enter, sucking in lungfuls of her like an addict, gaze swinging around the room as my cock twitches eagerly.

But Mylah isn’t here.

I check the bathroom, under the bed, in the closet. I thought nothing would bring me out of the rut, but it turns out Mylah missing—and, I find out, my sister too—manages to do just the trick.

Chapter 19 - Mylah

I’m not just in a dark coat, but also in a black cloak that drifts behind me dramatically. Aurora and I walk through the dimly lit alleyways in town, our feet crunching through the layer of snow that just continues to deepen. Flurries and ice particles whip around us, stinging my face. It’s cold enough out here that it hurts to breathe, and the sound of the snow sliding under our footfalls hurts my teeth.

Somehow, walking through town is the warmest I’ve felt on this trip. To get here—across the many, many miles—Aurora piled us onto a snowmobile and told me to hold on. I’d wrapped my arms around her middle, pressed my face against her back, and still froze the entire way here, stomach dipping each time we went quickly over the swell of a particularly high hill.

You’d think, after living in Kault my entire life, that I would be used to the cold. Maybe shifters have more fun with it—maybe they run hotter than the rest of us. I, on the other hand, am cold down to the bone. Shivering and trying not to let Aurora see just how badly I want to turn back, call this entire thing off.

My hands are shaking deep in the pockets of my coat, and each step feels like another toward danger.

Growing up on the outskirts of the packs, I’ve never been in town like this before. My father came every few weeks to sell and trade the goods from the farm, get feed, and the occasional new piece of equipment. But I never got to go along with him—too dangerous for me to be on the trip. While making trades and haggling, he claimed he wouldn’t be able to protect me.