A Few Days Later
Autry
Dolly’s headis warm beneath my hand, her soft ears twitching every now and then as I absentmindedly stroke her. She lets out a little sigh, nuzzling deeper into my thigh like she knows I need the comfort more than she does.
I try to focus on the book in my lap—it’s light and easy, the kind of story I’d normally devour in a day—but the words blur. I’ve been on the same page for fifteen minutes. Maybe longer.
It’s stupid. Everything is good. I’m safe. I’m loved. I’m warm.
And yet, I can’t shake the ache in my chest.
My eyes wander to the window, to the faint shimmer of early afternoon sunlight filtering through the curtains. It’s peaceful in here. Quiet and familiar. It should feel perfect. But it doesn’t.
All I can think about is the Morder. About the shot they gave me to delay my heat. They told me it would last a week. Maybe two.
They lied.
It’s been five or six weeks now, and my temperature has remained steady. I haven’t even had a single cramp.
I’m not panicking, not really. A heat can be tied to so many things—safety, stability, hormones. And then there’s Charlie. His transition, the changes in his scent, and the way our dynamics have been shifting could have thrown my body off. Or maybe it’s stress. New home. New pack. New everything.
But I’m restless. I want to be marked and mated.
And not just by Rhett—though the thought of his teeth in my skin makes me dizzy—but by Oli too. Gentle, sexy Oli, who watches me like I’m made of stars. The idea of both their scents buried in my neck, permanent and claiming, makes my heart race.
I close my book and sigh, dragging my fingers down Dolly’s spine. She stretches, yawns, and settles again.
The doorbell rings, and Dolly and I both flinch.
Not because I’m scared—exactly—but because Rhett isn’t home. He left hours ago, dressed in that sharp black jacket he only wears for serious things. Today’s the day. The sale of his company is final. Weeks of back and forth, calls at all hours, lawyers and contracts, and meetings, and after today, it’s all done.
Everyone keeps saying how fast it’s gone and how lucky he is. But he says he doesn’t feel lucky. Not until it’s done.
The doorbell chimes again, and footsteps echo down the hallway—Myrick.Good. I was worried. Rhett was very clear about me and Charlie not going near the front door unless the building was on fire.
Myrick opens the door, and I twist around on the couch to see who it is. It’s the alpha from the party. The older onewith the big barrel chest and the even bigger booming voice. I think his name was Donall.
The alpha’s scent hits the air as he stands outside the door—strong, sharp, too much. It makes my stomach tighten.
“Is Rhett home?” he asks casually, like this is a friendly drop-in.
Myrick’s stance shifts subtly, enough to put a little more space between Donall and the interior of the house. “He’s at his lawyer’s office,” the beta replies coolly. “Finalizing the sale.”
Donall raises his eyebrows as if impressed, though his expression doesn’t quite look genuine. “That’s record speed,” he says. “Didn’t think he’d actually pull it off that fast.”
Myrick doesn’t respond. He waits for the alpha to say what his business is.
But Donall takes his time, glancing past Myrick and into the house. I duck down so only my eyes peek over the edge of the couch.
“Is your other alpha home?” Donall asks.
My stomach tightens, feeling like this isn’t good. I don’t know why, but this alpha feels…off.
Myrick takes half a step back. “Yeah,” His tone lifts as if not fully trusting Donall either. “I’ll go get him.” Myrick disappears down the hall, and I silently pray that Charlie has the good sense to stay in his room. The last thing we need is for someone to find out that two omegas live here.
Suddenly feeling very vulnerable, I sit completely still, barely breathing, one hand resting protectively on Dolly’s back.
Everything is fine.
