Page 48 of Knot Your Pucking Secret

Heat. She is going into heat.

Chapter Eighteen

Lennon

Iam so hot. My body is slick. Both a mixture of actual need and sweat. Sasha holds me like I am breakable. Like I am a fuse that’s about to detonate at any moment, which is a fair assumption. An Omega in heat is a ticking time bomb. I only have maybe an hour before everything goes hazy, and I am no longer able to think or consent. It’s too late to get myself to a heat clinic. I would’ve had to book in weeks ago in order to get a spot with a half decent pack. I refuse to risk myself by going to a clinic that would have availability now. I’ve heard enough about them to know that they’re dodgy.

But Sasha…

It may be the heat talking, let’s be honest, it's the fucking heat talking, but he is here. An Alpha that can see through this. That can help ease the pain that’s beginning to cramp my stomach. I open my eyes to find his concerned blues already looking at me. I have never seen him look so worried. He is panicking.

“Call Dom and Holden.”

“What? I—” he stutters, but I shake my head, gripping him tighter.

“Get your pack here, Sasha. I need the three of you to look after me, okay? To get me through this heat.”

I blanch as I realize the very real problem I face. My job. The team. The fucking Stanley Cup game that we are playing next week.

“A—are you sure?” he stutters again.

I could easily say no. I know I should say no. Having Sasha here for my heat runs the risk of giving him the wrong idea. But I’d be a fool not to notice that something about him is different. Facing his trauma has done a lot for a man that had once been filled with an all consuming rage. I can see how much he wants to be better. To do better. I would be cruel if I didn’t give him the chance to prove that to me. There is no getting rid of him. Not really. That is not how fate likes to work. I could move across the country, and somehow, he’d still cross my path. I hated fate for that exact reason. But right now…

“Do it,” I say forcefully. I try to stand, but a ripple of pain has me collapsing to the ground.Stupid fucking heat suppersant pills.The company is going to get a strongly worded email from me. I might just call the media. Claim to be someone else and put them out of business, because their product is obviously bullshit.

Sasha grabs hold of me, lifting me into his arms. I nuzzle my nose into his throat, where his scent is the strongest, pulling in breath after breath of his burnt sugar and whiskey scent.

It’s fucking delicious, quickly calming the anxiety threatening to rattle me.

“Here,” he says, handing me my phone. “Message Veronica. She will be able to get in contact with everyone to let them know that you will be…indisposed.”

I nod, fumbling with my phone to send off a text to my best friend, giving her the short version of what I need her to do for me.

Veronica

I got you babe. Have fun!

Veronica

Bronte said she will kill you if you let those fuckers mark you.

I snort as a message comes through from Bronte.

Bronte

Fuck off. That was you, bitch.

Bronte

But I do agree. Those ass wipes still have a lot of groveling to do before they get my approval.

Me

Yes ma’am.

Sasha walks into the bathroom, placing me down on the vanity as he focuses on running me a cool shower. He is gentle as he removes my damp clothes, not daring to touch my skin anymore than he has to.

It actually pisses me off more than anything. I need his touch. I need him to hold me. It's the only thing that will make me feel better. Picking me up again, Sasha walks us both into the shower, holding me under the cool water in an attempt to bring down my temperature. It is sweet, but I know there is one thing that I would prefer more than the cool water.