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Syar got up to check on their mate. He entered his room, and his guts felt like ice. She wasn’t there. He focused on the link and felt the concern from Reynaldo. He had an idea and went through the closed adjoining door. There she was, curled up in a small ball at the edge of the bed, her phone next to her hand.
Tears streaked her cheeks, and when he pressed his hand to her neck, it was hot as hell. He crawled into bed behind her and licked Reynaldo’s mark. He didn’t remember this kind of infection, but he was designed for this by whatever deity thought it would be cute to give alphas fuck pets in the form of omegas. They hadn’t given the same adaptability to betas. The backbones of society, they weren’t built for cavorting with alphas. That said, she had done very well. He remembered the snug and slick feeling of being inside her, and it had felt exceedingly comfortable. If she weren’t out cold, he would have tried it again.
He looked at the mark and blinked. “Holy shit.”
Reynaldo had gone in deep. Really deep. It wasn’t a mark that could be scrubbed. Syar wasn’t going to tell her. Not for a long time. Maybe their fifth anniversary. She didn’t know it yet, but if she wanted to go home at the end of the contract, they would follow her until she agreed to return to the island.
“What the fuck?” Reynaldo’s voice came from their bedroom.
Syar called out softly. “In here.”
Reynaldo came in with an armload of flowers with soft pink petals. He lowered his tone to a soft rumble. “Why is she in here?”
Syar spoke softly, “At a guess, the guards wouldn’t let her into my side. We are just lucky we didn’t have this locked like we planned. She would be asleep in the great room right now.”
“Damn.”
Syar looked at Reynaldo’s hands and said, “Give her one. Put the rest on our bed, and we will put the petals there later.”
“Why just the one?”
“Trust me on this.”
Reynaldo analyzed his burden and pulled out a single flower. He disappeared for a moment to toss the other flowers on the bed. He brought back the chosen bloom and crouched next to Venetia’s face. “She’s pale.”
“You nearly bit out her spine,” Syar muttered.
“No. He was just locking her in.” He stroked her cheek with the flower. “He doesn’t like her countdown.”
“So, he bit her so deep, and her body’s shorting out.”
“Um. Can I have a look?”
Syar looked at their alpha. “You want me to move away from her?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I will move you.”
Syar met his gaze as he licked the mark.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Venetia said weakly. She straightened and rolled to her belly.
* * * *
Ven didn’t open her eyes. She felt Reynaldo’s body heat get closer, and then his tongue started scraping, which was a relief. She muttered, “What is wrong with the mark?”
Syar held her hand. “Tropical environment, they heal differently.”
Reynaldo had a pang of surprise go through the exceptionally sturdy link. He continued the slow scraping, and she felt relief from the fever that had been pressing on her. She was tired, and that always tanked her immune system. Not an ideal situation to get bitten in.
She dozed off while being tended to and woke up naked.
Ven sat up and looked around. She was in a bed covered with flower petals, and there was a single flower on her hand. She was stunned. She turned her hand and held the flower, lifting it to her nose and inhaling. The tears came quickly.
Syar came into the room with an armload of fabric and was instantly concerned. “Venetia, are you all right?”
