Page 103 of Pack Fever

I barely feel the cold of the shower, but it’s like trying to douse a forest fire with a single bucket of water. It’s hopeless. With my back against the tiled wall, I hug my knees to my chest and curl into myself.

Tears flow down my cheeks as I shut my eyes, my body quivering and the sharpness deepening inside me. Rocking back and forth, I hold myself tight and cry, knowing that even if I try to move now, I won’t make it far. I cry out each time a new wave of pain flares through me, each time I shudder, each time my libido twists like someone is trying to rip it in half…

The chilling thought sends a shiver down my spine, colder than the water cascading over me—what if this torment is my last sensation, my final memory before darkness claims me, leaving me as nothing more than an Omega passed out? I’ve heard the stories of Omegas slipping into comas if they don’t have help from Alphas during their heat.

Jasper

As we’re making our way back toward the penthouse, winding through the hotel’s plush corridor, Seth suddenly lets out a grunt.

“Fuck. Fuck!”

Both Reed and I halt, turning to him, my eyebrows raising.

“What the hell now?” Reed probes, while I’m studying Seth staring down at something on his phone screen.

His brow furrows, then flips his phone around for us to see. I lean in, squinting at the small text on the screen, and the headline on the article catches my attention first.

Fever’s Seth: A Heartthrob’s Hidden Gaze with Mystery Girl Spotted at Concert.

As Seth scrolls the article, he reads it aloud where they’re speculating wildly about him being seen giving longing looks to a woman on his crew during the concert. They go on about how this girl is always shrouded beneath a hood, making her all the more intriguing. And then, there’s a blurry photo on the side, unmistakable Danica, her face obscured by the hood of her sweatshirt.

“Fucking hell!” I groan. “We don’t need this shit!” Not to mention, we have so much riding on this than just our contract with Wing Music, but protecting Danica from Nexus.

“You think I don’t know that,” Seth growls, his lips pinched tight.

“Yeah, well, you clearly can’t keep your emotions intact in public and the whole fucking world has noticed now,” Reed barks.

Seth’s exhaling deeply, his face paling. “We don’t tell her. Understand?” His command is clipped and precise.

“She’s gonna find out,” I say.

“Only if you open your fat mouth,” he snaps.

“I’m with Jasper on this one,” Reed adds.

“Look,” Seth says, tucking his phone into his pocket firmly, then runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to stress her, that’s all. And I want to speak with Wing Music first so we know that’s not an issue.”

“And you need to stop ogling her during concerts,” I say. “You think we don’t notice you winking at her, blowing kisses in her direction?”

Seth’s jaw tightens. “Fuck, I know. I’ll do better.”

Stepping into the penthouse with Reed and Seth, I’m half-listening to them murmur about how he’ll broach the topic with Wing Music, but my focus is elsewhere. It’s been a whole fucking day since I last saw Danica, and that’s not something I’m happy with. Especially since the producer’s arrival dragged everything out… including us returning home.

My gaze sweeps the living room, a sense of urgency creeping up on me.

“Danica?” My voice cuts through the chatter, but the silence that follows feels heavy and wrong.

My gaze sweeps the living room, a sense of urgency creeping up on me.

“Danica?” My voice cuts through the chatter, but the silence that follows feels heavy and wrong.

I exchange a quick, worried glance with the guys. We fan out without a word, each taking a different direction. My heart’s pounding, a nagging dread settling in my stomach.

“Found her!” Reed’s voice breaks the tense silence. I sprint downstairs, my steps heavy, my breaths racing.

Bursting into my bathroom, time seems to slow, my heart nearly stopping at the sight before me. Danica’s huddled in the corner of the shower, the water still cascading down on her. She’s a small, curled-up figure, her sobs echoing off the tiles, each moan and whine twisting a knife in my heart. She looks up, her face streaked with tears, and the raw pain in her eyes is almost too much to bear. We should have been here, should have known this was coming.

Inhaling deeply, her scent hits me like a mountain’s been dropped on me—the unmistakable, seductive perfume of an Omega in deep heat. It’s the kind of heat that’s more than just a call for comfort—it’s a desperate cry for survival.

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