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After a while, when I can move, I roll onto my side and curl against him, my head tucked under his chin. The Mark on my neck throbs, not with pain, just a steady presence.

Orien holds me, rubbing slow circles over my back and hips. The world is still white noise, but it’s softer now, a background hum that lets me rest.

I wake in darkness.

The Heat isn’t out of my system yet, but it’s become quieter, as if now that the animal need is satisfied, something else has room to surface.

Hunger.

I lie on my side, facing away from Orien, with his big body curled around mine. Head turning, I nuzzle into the curve of his arm to inhale my Alpha’s pheromones, and my body responds, my dick filling with blood before I’m even awake.

His hard cock nestles into the crease of my ass, and the hand that cups my hip is not gentle.

I rock my hips backward, greedy for more. “Want it.”

He slides into me from behind, my slick and his own cum still coating my hole. The stretch is easier now, my body loose and ready, but the pressure is still shocking. I gasp and push back harder, needing him deeper.

He rocks into me in long, slow strokes that never quite pull all the way out. The angle is different, the head of his cock striking my sweet spot, and my toes curl.

I stroke myself in time with his movements, the rhythm hypnotic.

When I come, it’s with a low whine, the pulse of it drawing his own orgasm out of him. He grinds into my ass, shuddering as he empties inside me.

This time, when he bites, it’s on my shoulder, just above the blade. Not to Mark, but to claim. I’ll bear the bruise with pride.

He stays inside me while our bodies cool, his hand never leaving my skin.

In the morning, the world will resume. The consequences will follow. But for now, I have the warmth of his breath at my neck and the certainty that I’m where I belong.

I come up gasping, surfacing from a sleep so deep it bordered on blackout.

The blinds are closed, but light leaks in at the edges, turning the air gold and blue. My throat burns, my limbs drag, and every joint from knees to hips to spine aches.

For a while, I lie very still, just breathing. Each inhale is filled with salt and sweat, the musky tang of cum, and beneath it all, the metallic echo of blood.

Orien sits on the corner of the bed, shirtless, pouring water from a filtered pitcher into a glass. He sets the glass on the nightstand next to the bed, then peels open the wrapper of an energy bar.

He looks over and waits for me to sit up before nudging the glass into my hand.

The water is cold enough to make my teeth ache, and I drink half of it before coming up for air. I take the energy bar from him and eat it in small bites. My body needs the fuel, but the simple act of chewing drains what little energy I have left.

When the water and the bar are gone, I rest my head on his shoulder, breathing through the last ghosts of the Heat.

The Mark throbs, and I reach back to brush my fingers over the ring of teeth. It’s scabbed, already setting, but it’s not permanent. It will fade with my next cycle if I want it to.

I can still walk out of here today and never come back.

Orien moves his arm, palm splaying across my ribs. “You good?”

I nod.

He nudges his nose into my hair and hums. “If you want to run, you should do it now.”

I almost laugh. As if that’s even a choice.

I burrow against his chest and let myself rest, letting the rhythms of his body settle my own.

When I pull back, I find him watching me.