Page 50 of Satisfaction Guaranteed

It isn’t long before the others join them. Lilith, Nakita, and even Connor. They all wear the same sympathetic glint in their eyes as they huddle in. The line between gratitude and humiliation is practically invisible, but she finds herself leaning into their embrace and the warmth that follows.

“I’m okay. I mean, I…I will be,” Alana whispers. She’s gotten through tough hurdles before. Ones that seemed impossible at the time, but she surpassed them. Her bakery flooding a week before opening day, getting pneumonia and bronchitis during one of the worst winter storms in New Mexico. Neither of those hurt as badly, but she survived them. She’ll survive Nana, too.

Hopefully.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Lilith asks. She cups the side of her face, her thumb brushing Alana’s tear-stained cheek. “We can spend the rest of the night at our place. Get a hotel. Anything you want, hunny. Tell us how to salvage your night, and we got you.”

Each of Alana’s friends nods in agreement, and the dam nearly breaks all over again. She’s not sure what she ever did to deserve such an amazing friend group, but the shy, bullied little girl inside her thanks her lucky stars for them every day. “Thank you guys,” Alana chuckles, her smile too weak to really meet her eyes. “I—I’m okay though, really. Honestly, this was a really long time coming. This thing with Cyrus was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.” It’s strange how heavy her mind feels while even though such a massive weight has been lifted. Beneath the despair and disappointment, Alana is relieved to have everything laid out on the table. No more secrets, no more pressure. She can finally exist as the person she is. Imperfect, but happy. People are either going to fall in line with the human being she is now, or they won’t.

The choice was theirs to make.

“Do you guys think he’s okay? Cyrus I mean.” Alana asks. She sighs, hoping to push family drama to the sidelines for now. “I don’t even know what happened. He seemed so scared.”

Citlalli rubs her shoulder. “Did he say anything before he left? What happened?”

She tries to wrack her mind around it, tries to visualize what she could have done to make him leave in such a hurry. “Just that he didn’t want to do something he’d regret? Which I don’t understand. We were kissing and then…”

“It isn’t personal,” Nakita murmurs. “He tried to keep it under control. I guess the moon got the better of him in the end, that’s all.”

Alana turns to the vampire, brows knitted tightly. “What do you mean?”

Citlalli, Nakita, Connor, and Lilith all exchange a look that makes her feel like she’s missed out on an inside joke. “What?” she repeats, firmer. “Tell me.”

“Sweetie, I thought you were, like, a werewolf buff or something? Were-shifter…full moon…?” Citlalli waits for her friend to put the pieces together, but when she stares blankly, she rolls her eyes with a drawn-out sigh. “Your boy is going through a rut, babes.”

Like an idiot, all Alana can do is blink. She glances at Nakita and Lilith as if waiting for confirmation, and when they both nod at her, she pales. Oh. Oh, Gods, of course. How could she not have realized? Alana fights a groan and drags a hand across her face. Ruts weren’t something she was super well-versed in. At least, not outside of poorly scripted romance novels or terrible movies. Any media she’s read regarding heats or ruts was always described as brutal, sexual bursts of animalistic nature that were difficult to contain. As if any monster who experienced them would turn into feral beasts who ravaged cities and stole unsuspecting women from their homes. It was painted as something frightening, taboo. Cyrus didn’t look like he needed to be locked away and guarded with pitchforks. He looked like he needed comfort, at the very least.

“Fuck. I should check on him,” Alana says, fidgeting with her nails. “Do you think he’ll be alright?”

Her friends reply with uncertain nods as they look between each other.

“I mean, I can only speak as a feline shifter,” Citlalli says. “But whenever it’s that season, I swear it feels like I’m gonna keel over if I don’t get some. That shit’s intense.” She pauses to laugh. “But it could work differently for werewolves. I’m sure he’ll be fine. Uncomfortable, probably, but fine. I doubt this is something he hasn’t handled on his own before.”

Nakita shifts as Citlalli speaks, rubbing the back of her neck. In the time Alana’s known her, she’s never doubted a single thing Nakita has said. She’s honest to a fault, even if that honesty comes blunt and hard to absorb.

Alana squints at her. “You’re making a face. Kita, what is it?”

The vampire sighs and crosses her arms under her chest. “It might be a little rough on him this go-around, all things considered,” she explains. “I mean, it’s clear to everyone, except the two of you, that you’re bonded. It can be kind of rough on wolves to be without the person they’re bonded to. So chances are, Cyrus’ primal urges are a bit…cranked up. I assume he left to avoid turning your birthday into an X-rated event.”

Alana’s stomach drops. Bonded? Is that why she’s been having such a hard time getting him out of her mind? To think he’s going through any form of mental or emotional turmoil because of her sends her gut twisting into guilt-ridden knots. If he had just talked to her, told her what he needed…did he really not have a clue as to how willing she would’ve been to help?

Gods. That stubborn man.

“I need to see him,” Alana says, only for her expression to fall. She has absolutely no idea where he lives. Shit… would he be at his ranch, or the apartment? Alana chews her bottom lip, tears of frustration threatening to surface as she tries to figure out a course of action.

“If you guys end up together at the end of all this, I need you to rub it in Cyrus’ face that it’s because of me,” Connor says, grinning, before jiggling his keys in the air. “C’mon, me and his brother used to play cards at his place back in the day. I’m sure he’s at his ranch, I’ll take you.”

Alana’s shoulders sag with relief. She launches herself at the bull and wraps her arms around him in a hug so tight he has to ask her to let go so he can breathe.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

ALANA

Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around a while?” Connor asks from his place parked just outside the hill that led up to Cyrus’ place. Dimmed amber light shines from behind the closed blinds, so Alana assumes he must be home.

She shakes her head and steps out of the truck. Or, descends from it, rather. She’s come to love Connor, truly, and she owes him to hells and back for driving her here. But by Gods does he need a less obnoxious mode of transportation. It isn’t like he’s compensating for anything—she’d know if he were, all things considered.

“No, no, it’s late. Get home or head back to the party. I’ll be fine. I can find my own way back tomorrow.”