“You always get a vote.”
“I vote that you stop overthinking and take a shower.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “You still smell like sex, and it’s distracting.”
I laugh. The sound surprises me—genuine, light, cutting through the heaviness that’s been sitting in my chest since I woke up.
“I love you, you know.”
“Yeah, yeah. I love you too. Now go shower. I’ll interrogate the men while you’re gone.”
“That’s not comforting.”
“It’s not supposed to be.”
She stands, pulls me up, and steers me toward the hallway. At the end of it, I glance back and see her turn to face the living room—three Alphas, all watching her with varying degrees of wariness.
“Alright, boys,” she says, her hands on her hips. “Let’s chat.”
Rune of Restraint:
Inscribed on silver, it cools the blood when fire rises.
Amara waits until the sound of running water comes from down the hall. Then she turns to face the room, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.
“Okay. I’m going to say something, and I need you all to listen without getting defensive.”
Griffin shifts on the couch. Silas leans against the kitchen doorframe. I stay where I am by the fireplace, one hand resting on the mantel.
“I didn't know a Rift flare could trigger a heat,” she says. “I always thought heats were cyclical. Tied to biology, hormones, the individual Omega's cycle. I knew stress, illness, or extreme emotional distress could bring one on early, but magical surges?”
The room goes quiet.
“I think that's because the quarry hasn't been studied properly,” Damon says. “And it doesn't happen to every Omega. If it did, half the town would be in heat after every surge. There has to be something else at play—proximity to the Rift, the intensity of the flare, individual susceptibility... maybe all of it together.”
Amara looks at me, surprised. “You have a point. That first time Caroline went into heat, but I didn’t.”
“I talked to June yesterday. And August. The apothecary has been flooded this week—Omegas coming in for aftercare supplies, heat suppressants, everything. More than usual. Way more. June said she’s never seen anything like it.”
“How many more?” Silas asks.
“Twice the normal volume. Maybe three times. And it’s not just unbonded Omegas. Bonded ones, too. Women who’ve been on suppressants for years, suddenly needing emergency doses because their cycles are going haywire.”
Amara nods slowly, like I’m confirming something she already suspected. “Okay. So it’s not just Caroline. It’s systemic.”
“It seems that way.”
“Which brings me to something.” She pulls her phone from her jacket pocket, scrolls for a moment, then sets it on the coffee table. “I’ve been studying this case for work. Charm law, specifically—my area. An Alpha and an Omega in Chicago were going through a separation. Nasty one. She wanted out, and he didn’t want to let her go. During the proceedings, the jury discovered that he’d been messing with her suppressants for months. Replacing them with placebos. Altering the dosage. Making her vulnerable.”
Griffin sits up straighter. “What happened?”
“He was convicted. Sentenced to five years. The judge called it coercive control through biological manipulation.” Amara picks the phone back up and taps the screen. “But here’s the partthat stuck with me. During the trial, an expert witness testified that sustained manipulation of an Omega’s cycle doesn’t just affect the Omega. It affects the ambient magic around them. The ley lines, the local wards, the energetic balance of the area. She said—and I’m paraphrasing—that if you wanted to destabilize a magically sensitive location, targeting the Omegas in that location would be the most effective way to do it.”
The silence that follows is heavy.
“You’re suggesting someone is doing this on purpose,” Silas says.
“I’m suggesting it’s a possibility. A wild one, I know, but think about it. The Rift flares, and Omegas go into heat. The Omegas’ unstable magic feeds the flare, which makes more Omegas unstable, which feeds the flare more. It’s a cycle. And if someone figured out how to start that cycle intentionally?—”
“They could use the Rift as a weapon,” I finish.
