The smell hits me instantly. It’s not the burning, chemical scent of the heat anymore. It’s deeper. Earthier.
It’s the scent of pack. Of mating. It clings to the walls and saturates the sheets.
It smells like mine. Like ours.
I walk inside. The room is dim, the blackout curtains drawn, and the bed is a disaster zone of tangled sheets and pillows on the floor.
Billy is sprawled on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, snoring lightly. Seth is curled up on the other side, reading a book in the dim light with his glasses perched on his nose. He looks up when I enter.
Sedona is in the middle, a lump under the duvet.
I set the tray down on the dresser. “You hungry?” I whisper.
Seth nods, putting the book down and stretching his neck until it cracks audibly. “Starving,” he says.
I look at the bed. The lump moves, and a hand shoots out from under the covers to pat the mattress blindly.
“Water,” she croaks, her voice raspy and raw.
I grab a bottle from the nightstand, crack the seal, and hand it to Seth, who helps her sit up. She emerges from the cocoon of blankets, and my heart hammers.
She looks wrecked. Her hair is a wild tangle of red curls, her face pale but flushed. Her lips are swollen, and there are bruises on her neck and bite marks on her shoulders. She looks like she’s been through a battle.
She looks beautiful.
She downs half the bottle in one gulp, gasping for air. “How are you feeling?” I ask.
She blinks. Her eyes are glassy, but they’re clear. The fever is gone. The haze is lifted. “Like I got hit by a truck,” she says. “A truck full of penises.”
Billy snorts from the other side of the bed, pulling his arm off his face to blink his eyes open. “Morning, sunshine,” he grumbles.
“Is it morning?” she asks.
“It’s two in the afternoon,” I say. “Saturday.”
She freezes. “Saturday?”
“Yeah.”
She calculates, and her eyes widen. “Six days?” she asks. “I’ve been out for six days?”
“Mostly,” Seth says, brushing a curl off her forehead. “You were lucid for a few minutes here and there. But mostly… you were busy.”
Her face turns bright red, and she pulls the duvet up to her chin. “I remember…” She trails off, looking at me, then at Billy, then at Seth. “I remember everything.”
“Good,” Billy says, sitting up. He’s naked from the waist up, his chest hair matted. “That means you remember who you belong to.”
She swallows. “I think I need to pee.”
She tries to get up, throwing the covers back to reveal she’s wearing one of my T-shirts. It’s huge on her.
She swings her legs over the side of the bed and stands up, but her knees buckle instantly. I lunge forward, catching her before she hits the floor.
My arm wraps around her waist, pulling her upright.
“Whoa, there,” I say.
She grips my biceps, her fingers digging in as she wobbles. “My legs are jelly,” she whispers. “I can’t feel my toes.”
