The three of them. Damon. Griffin. Silas. They each pull at a different part of me, creating a confusing, terrifying mess of emotion. Safety with Griffin. Fire with Damon. Fear with Silas. And my body, my treacherous body, seems to want it all.
I stumble toward the kitchen, my legs unsteady. I need something. Anything to get this under control. The pre-heat is coming. I can feel it in my bones, in the way my core clenches with empty need. there’s no avoiding it. My body has made its decision. I can only try to manage the fallout.
My hands shake as I open the cupboard where I keep my personal stores of herbs. My mind races, sorting through formulas, ingredients. Raspberry leaf to tone the uterine muscles. Motherwort to calm the frantic beat of my heart and tryto balance the hormonal flood. A pinch of blue cohosh to… no, that will bring it on faster. Chamomile. Lavender. Something to soothe.
I grab a small ceramic pot, my fingers fumbling with the lid. I measure out the herbs with practiced, trembling hands, not bothering with the spoon. I just pour, my instincts taking over.
I fill the kettle with water, my movements jerky. The hiss of the burner, the rumble of the heating water, are the only sounds in the house. It’s a sound I usually find comforting. Right now, it just sounds like a timer counting down to an explosion.
While I wait, I lean against the counter, my head bowed. My breath comes in shallow pants. I press the heel of my hand against my lower belly, trying to ease the ache. It doesn’t help. If anything, the pressure makes it worse, sending a fresh wave of liquid heat straight to my core.
Fuck. I’m so screwed.
The kettle whistles. I jump, my nerves shot. I pour the boiling water over the herbs in the pot, the steam rising up, carrying the scent of grass and flowers. It doesn’t help. The smell just reminds me of the shop, of my work, of the life I’m about to upend.
I cover the pot to let the tea steep, my mind already moving to the next problem. I can’t do this alone. I need supplies. Things I don’t have in my personal kit. Stronger things.
I grab my phone from where I left it on the couch and dial the apothecary. The main line rings twice before a familiar, crisp voice answers.
“Foxglove & Finch Apothecary, June speaking.”
Damn it! I was hoping Tessa would pick up.
“June. It’s Caroline.”
There’s a slight pause on the other end. “Caroline? What is it? You sound… unwell.”
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I have to say it. I have to force the words out. “June… I think I’m going into heat.”
Another pause, this one longer. When she speaks again, her voice is softer, full of a professional sympathy that’s somehow more comforting than a friend’s would be right now. “Oh, honey. Of course. I understand. These surges fucking suck. What do you need? It can’t be easy, with your man out of town.”
She thinks I’m calling because I’m alone, because Griffin isn’t here to help me. I don’t correct her. I just let the assumption hang there, a heavy, suffocating blanket of guilt.
“The town is in panic mode once again,” June continues, her voice brisk and efficient, pulling me back to the present. “The Rift flared. We’ve had calls about familiars going wild, pipes bursting. I think there’s a fire down at the fairgrounds. It’s a mess.”
A chill that has nothing to do with my heat goes down my spine. Damon. He’s out there in the middle of that. “Is everyone okay?”
“As okay as they can be. We’re locking the doors. Now, what do you need? I can have August bring a package over. A heat kit? Suppressants? Soothers? Just tell me what you want.”
I stare at the teapot, my mind a complete blank. What do I want? I want Damon’s hands on me. I want him to finish what he started. I want this ache to go away. I want to not feel like my body is betraying me.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, the admission costing me what little pride I have left. “I don’t know what I need.”
“Okay, Caroline. Breathe,” June says. “That’s the heat talking. It makes everything feel overwhelming. I’ll put a kit together for you. A little bit of everything. Stronger soothers, a mild suppressant to take the edge off, some nutrient bars. You’ll need the energy. I’ll have August run it over in a few hours, once things calm down a bit outside. He can leave it on the porch.”
“Thank you,” I manage to say, my throat thick.
“Don’t mention it. Just stay inside. Lock your doors. We’ll get through this.” She hesitates. “How is Tessa holding up?”
I’d forgotten about that. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her since yesterday.”
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t. Tessa isn’t in today. I’m starting to worry the girl might actually quit. What bad timing to move to town, right in the middle of all this… Rift business.”
I can only make a noncommittal sound in response. My own world is shrinking, the walls of my house closing in, the only reality the fire burning under my skin.
“I’ll send that package soon, Caroline. Hang in there.”
“Okay. Thanks, June.”
