Seth and I follow.
The night air is cool, the moon hidden behind clouds. The only light comes from the bunkhouse window.
We watch Billy walk across the yard. He moves with purpose, his stride long and determined. He looks like a man possessed.
Or a man answering a call.
I stand on the porch. The beer is still in my hand, forgotten. The cold seeps into my bones.
“She can’t be,” I whisper. “She has to be on suppressants.”
“Meds fail,” Seth says. His voice is hollow. “Especially with other drugs in the system.”
I look at him, and the realization hits me hard.
If she’s in heat, every Alpha instinct in us is going to go haywire. It’s biology. It’s primal. It doesn’t care about consent or past history or brotherhood.
It’s a chemical war, and we’re right on the front line.
Billy reaches the bunkhouse steps. He pauses. He takes a deep breath before raising his hand to knock.
The door swings open. Clara stands there wearing a mask and looking exhausted. Her hair is a mess. The look she has in her eyes scares me.Terror.
“Billy,” she says. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I need to see her,” Billy says. “Clara, I can smell it.”
Clara glances back into the room. She blocks the doorway.
“She’s sleeping,” Clara lies. It’s a bad lie. I can see the tremor in her hands.
“Move,” Billy says. It’s not a request. It’s an Alpha command. The resonance is deep, vibrating in my chest.
Clara flinches. She steps aside, and Billy walks in.
Seth and I stay on the porch. We don’t follow. We can’t. It feels like crossing a line.
But I can see through the open door.
The room is dim. The air inside is heavy.
And the smell hits me.
It rolls out of the open door like a wave. Sweet, cloying, intoxicating.
Honey. Cedar. Omega.
Billy was right.
It’s a heat.
And as I stand there, breathing it in, I feel it happen. A spark in my lower belly. A tightening in my chest. My blood starts to heat up.
Shit.
I look at Seth. He’s staring into the room, his pupils blown wide. He’s breathing hard.
“Seth,” I hiss. “Don’t.”
