Myrick pauses. “Charlie, you’re burning up. You need to rinse off at least. Cool your skin.”
I know he’s right. But Oli’s standing behind me, silent as a shadow, his jaw tight, his nostrils flaring with every breath like he’s trying to keep something inside. He hasn’t said a word, and that silence feels too heavy.
My stomach churns.
“I—I’m fine. Really.” I push at the hem of my shirt,tucking it back in. “I just wanna sleep. Please. I can shower later.”
Myrick’s brow furrows. “Charlie?—”
“I’m not dying. Just tired. Please, Myrick.” I can’t bring myself to look at Oli, but I can feel him behind me, looming like a wall. I don’t want him to see me like this—stripped down, pale and flushed, skin too soft in all the wrong places. Not with that body of his standing there, carved like stone.
Myrick stares at me, eyes searching mine. Then he sighs and takes a step back. “Alright. Fine. Bed. But only if you promise to let me help you in the morning.”
“I promise.” My voice is small. Pathetic.
Oli moves behind me. Slowly, the warmth of his body disappears, and I listen, not turning to look until he steps into the hallway.
“Give me one minute,” Myrick says to Oli as he bends down and picks up the dog. “I’ll show you to your room once I get Charlie in bed.”
“Take your time.” Oli’s deep voice drifts toward me, and goosebumps flash up and down my sides.
“Let's get you to your room.” Myrick wraps one arm around my shoulders, then guides me out of the bathroom.
Oli steps to one side, giving us room to edge past him. My whole body tingles when my arm brushes his chest, but I keep my eyes down, not looking up until I reach my room.
I mumble a quick thanks to Myrick, then slip inside, shutting the door behind me before he can say anything else.
Pressed against the door, I wait, listening for Myrick’s footsteps to fade, then I hear Oli’s gruff voice. I hold my breath, then the door right next to my room shuts.He’s next door.
Why does that scare me?
Slowly turning, I stare at my comfy bed, thankful to finally be home. My bedside lamp is on, casting soft shadows across the wall. I kick off my shoes, then awkwardly shimmy out of my slacks, wincing as I pull one sock off and nearly lose my balance. I crawl under the covers in my wrinkled dress shirt and boxers, curling around the first pillow I find.
The sheets are cool. Soft. They smell like Myrick’s laundry detergent—crisp and faintly citrusy. My back still aches, and my eyes sting, but the weight in my chest eases a little.
It’s better in here. Easier to breathe.
Safer.
I’ll find a beta clinic tomorrow and figure out what the hell’s wrong with me.
But for now, I let the soft light settle in around me, and try to forget the way Oli’s scent still clings to the inside of my nose.
The Bedroom
Autry
Rhett commandedme to leave Charlie.
It wasn’t a suggestion—it was an order.
He stripped my choice from me and forced my body to obey, even though all I wanted was to be by our packmate’s side when he was sick. Rage coils in my chest, and tears sting the corners of my eyes. I’m so angry I want to scream.
“Calm down, omega.” Rhett breezes into the bedroom, talking to me like I’m Dolly. “I can smell your temper rising.”
My fury triples and I stomp after the alpha, right into the bathroom. “How dare you!”
His eyes snap to my face, careful control making his jaw tick. “Be careful with your tone, omega.” He gives me a firm look as he pulls off his tie, tossing it onto the closet floor.
