Page 2 of Heat Hesitation

"Holy shit. Stop the fucking car," I growl. Sully, alert, glances around, trying to see what I'm seeing. He pulls onto the shoulder, and I'm out of the car before we even roll to a stop, ignoring the questions from my packmates shouting after me.

"Hello?" I call out. A woman sits along the bridge's ledge, and I don't like how precariously close she is to the edge. I don't want to spook her, but my racing heart and the protective alpha within demand I take control of the situation.

"Miss? Are you okay?" I call out. The car doors slam shut behind me. I yell back, telling them to stay put.

I creep closer, ducking under the old wooden beams, gripping the rail to peer over the side. It's too dark to see how far down the drop is. I have no idea if it's rocky or clear, if the water's deep, if the bank is close. We pass this bridge all the time, why have I never paid attention to it?

"Miss?" I call out again, prepared to bark to save this woman from herself if I need to. I notice the half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the ledge next to her, her wild, dark brown hair cascading in long waves down her back. A burst of wind picks up, flowing through her hair, making the thin material of her white dress flutter.

But the scent carrying on the breeze nearly knocks me to my knees.

"Omega?" I whisper, desperate, hopeful, terrified.

She smells like lavender and sage and rose petals. She smells like a warm summer day. Every fantasy come to life. My scent-match. My omega.

Heart racing, I step closer, and her alarmed gaze whips toward me. Suddenly, our position, her sitting on the ledge, my fear that she could fall or jump, grips my throat, my nerves. I hear my packmates calling out, asking if everything is okay. All I see is her.

She sways, and I catch the scent of whiskey laced with hers in the air. Fuck.

"Omega," I growl, infusing my voice with my alpha bark. I've rarely used it; biologically, it's believed the intention of the bark is to keep an omega safe during their heat since they become lost in delirium, but every instinct inside me screams that I take control. I'm just afraid if I push too fast, she'll jump.

Finally sensing the danger she's in, her nostrils flare, eyes widen, and she catches my scent. A hint of her perfume hits the air, and I squeeze my fists to keep from lunging for her.

Instead, I nod slowly, "That's right, little one. I'm safe, I promise. Just come back for me, okay? Away from the ledge."

I step closer, but she leans away. I freeze, gripping the wooden beam, then continue on, ducking under the structure's frame. I'm almost close enough to grab her arm, her scent building stronger as I approach. She watches me warily, lips parting like she wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

"You don't want to do this. I'll take care of you, whatever you need. It's not worth it, little one. Whatever it is, please, I'm begging you, come away from the ledge."

She scrunches her brow in confusion as if she has no idea what I'm talking about, completely unconcerned about her proximity to the churning water below. She turns and glances over the side, and my stomach hollows out.

She looks back up at me, shaking her head, attempting to clumsily pull herself up to a crouch—wobbling from the whiskey or the cold night's air, I don't know—but when she peers over the ledge once more, fear that she's going to jump clutches my throat, and I bark at her with all my might, "Stop!"

I watch in horror as she freezes in response, but it's too late; she's already tripped and is falling; the first sound I hear from her is a terrified shriek. I roar and jump after her. Seconds that feel like minutes pass before I'm plunged into the cold water below. Disoriented, I rush toward the surface, flailing to get under control, screaming for my omega the entire way. I can hear my packmates shouting, but I ignore them as I search the inky depths of the roaring river.

"Omega! Where is she?!" I scream. But she's nowhere to be found. The terrifying thought that she could be drowning, that I'd only just found her, that I'd barked at her to stop, which made whatever chance she had of walking gracefully nonexistent. If the fall, not nearly as deep or long as I'd initially feared, doesn't kill her, my concern and idiocy may have.

"Omega!" I continue to shout, searching the murky depth. Fighting the current, I swim up and down, but she's nowhere. "Omega!" My voice becomes hoarse, but I can't stop. Eventually, Sully's in the water, pulling me toward the river's bank. I fight against him.

"She's here! We have to find her! We have to save her!" My voice cracks.

I manage to explain through incoherent, desperate ramblings that I found her. That I found our omega, but I lost her just as quickly.

We spent the entire night wading the river. Search and rescue arrived, but even together, with the bright searchlights and flashing blue and red from the police cars, we found nothing. No body, no mercurial, soft omega in a white dress, hiding from the chaos.

I found her. Then I lost her.

Chapter 2

Sully - six months ago

"Asher!" I growl, banging on his bedroom door. "Get your ass out here!"

"I'll wait," Enzo says, tucking his hands into his pockets, leaning against the wall after emerging from his bedroom two doors down. He's impeccably dressed and seemingly unaffected by our heartbroken brother. I know better, though; he's just as concerned as the rest of us, but unless you knew Enzo very well, you'd miss his tells. On the outside he seems cold, robotic, like he's observing human emotions and behaviors with a detached type of curiosity.

But the very fact that he's here, watching, waiting for Asher to get his ass out of bed means he cares.

I nod, then head downstairs to the first floor. We have an acquisitions meeting with the Bradfords in an hour, and it'll take us nearly half that time just to get to the office.

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