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I dragged my focus back up to his face.

“So, are you? Feeling any better?”

My stomach was no longer cramping as it had before everything had transpired. I was in desperate need of a bath, but the insatiable desire to crawl out of my skin and into Sylvan’s arms was gone.

“I’m fine. But you haven’t answered me. Why do you have an alpha bark?” I said, still catching my breath.

He sighed and leaned forward, elbows against his knees. “How do you know what an alpha bark is, but you don’t know shit about anything else related to lycan biology?”

“I heard about the bark from a friend who’s seen it firsthand.” I shrugged. “And I’m not one to easily listen to commands, so it fits.” Gods, I hated that my body obeyed him when I didn’t want to. Thinking about it now, today hadn’t been the first time. The letter opener. The command to stop arguing with him.

“I’ve been assuming alpha duties on behalf of my brother, I suppose,” he said.

Was that how it worked?

“But I would never intentionally use that on you. Not in a harmful way, I mean. But the point I was trying to make is that you should learn more about the other part of yourself so you can be in control. And that doesn't mean just shifting. That means understanding”—he gestured vaguely—“what your body does.”

“I’ve lived with this body for thirty-two years, probably more than you have lived with yours.”

“Just by a year,” he said with a shrug.

I lifted a finger to say something else before our attention was drawn away. An echoing click sounded, and I hurriedly smoothed out my skirts while a voice called out, “Aura?” I didn't know if I should be relieved or embarrassed by the sound of Magdalena’s voice.

Sylvan’s eyes dropped down to his crotch. He was still noticeably hard. I gave him a look of disbelief. “I'll be right there,” I shouted to Magdalena.

“And with your friend?” she added.

“Shit.”

Sylvan had the audacity to smirk. I prodded a finger at him. “We’re not finished speaking,” I told him. I walked to the shelves to grab my alchemy belt and fastened it around my waist again. “Get yourself together.” I waved him off and walked back to the front of the library. I spotted Magdalena standing near one of the chairs around the main table and offered a smile.

Her shiny black hair draped over her shoulders, curiosity alight in her violet eyes. The moment Sylvan made an appearance, the color drained from her sepia complexion. Lycan, her face seemed to say. She took a step back.

“This is Sylvan De Lacy,” I said. He smiled at her, holding a book casually in front of his crotch as he stretched his arm out to Magdalena. They shook hands, and he stepped back beside me.

“He's helping me with research.”

The small lift at the corner of his lips spoke volumes. Right, research, it seemed to say. I averted Magdalena’s intrusive gaze, but the rosiness that drifted into her cheeks was telling. I swore internally.

“Actually,” I began. “I didn't know why I didn't think about this before, but Magdalena is a professor of Occult history here. Mags, would you mind if Sylvan picks your brain? Maybe you can suggest some books that support his research? He’ll tell you all about what he’s looking for.”

Magdalena’s brows furrowed. “Sure,” she said..

“Great. I'll be in the workshop if either of you need me.”

I stopped at my office first, leaning heavily against the door to take several calming breaths. “What the hells?” I asked aloud. How had that happened? Why had it been so difficult, almost impossible, to control myself. Perhaps it was the Lobofebris worsening? Maybe I needed to up the dosage even more than I already had. That new formula couldn’t finish fast enough.

I rushed to the tankard at the back of the room, pouring some water into a small basin and searching my desk for a fresh linen square. I pulled my skirts up to clean up as quickly as I could before relocating to the workshop.

Shan was no longer there, thank goodness. It gave me the quiet I needed to begin preparing the ingredients I’d brought from the greenhouse. I set out a wooden chopping board and my mortar and pestle beside it. I separated stems from flowers and chopped with all the anger and confusion warring in me. I’m not sure if I’d ever chopped so quickly, but soon there were several pots boiling at once, and I was pacing the workshop like a caged animal.

Sylvan had insinuated that I was going into Heat.

He was wrong. I was above such animalistic needs.

Sure, I occasionally got a little more easily turned on than the norm, but wasn’t that any female with breath in their lungs? Whenever the extreme urges struck, I usually just took the week off work, locked myself away in the manor, and indulged more than usual. My monthly revels were well-known. Though the last revel I’d held, that urge wasn’t there. Not like it was now.

I couldn’t recall ever feeling this quite so intensely. None of it made sense.