Page 33 of Cause Of Death

“You, Disa, have opened your arms and your heart to not one, but two alphas. Your betas are a mix of designations, genders, and sexualities. You want another omega as part of your pack, and as an equal part to boot. Your accepting heart and giving nature make you a treasure among all other treasures. You aren’t a diamond, as they are fairly common despite their value. Youaren’t even like tanzanite, which is a thousand times rarer than diamonds. No. You are the most extraordinary and rarest of them all; painite. And I am grateful to be one of the people you allow to help you shine.”

I choke back a sob, not wanting to spoil Leslie’s poetic description of me with tears, blotchy skin, or the inevitable drips that would accompany an outburst of emotion. Instead, I hug them tightly to me, squeezing as much love and gratitude into them as possible, before letting go.

“I guess I’d better get dressed and then get back out there, before either Kieran or I spiral into the next stage of our heat,” I chuckle, casting about for a clean set of clothing. I don’t envy the betas their jobs this heat, as they’ll be in constant rotations between sex, sustenance, and laundry. As it is, there’s already several sets of my clothing ready and waiting to be cleaned. Luckily for Kieran and me, the soiled bedding from this morning has already been laundered, and there’s a lovely pile of fresh towels, sheets, and blankets ready and waiting for our use. There’s also a small pile of clothing that Leslie has “donated” to the cause put to one side, as we don’t know if Adam brought any of Kieran’s clothing with him.

“Love you, Disa,” Leslie murmurs as they help me into my clothes.

“Love you back, Leslie,” I reply, and mentally prepare to face the others.

Our exit from the master suite’s bathroom is interrupted by Kimberly yelling, her bellowed, “HENLEY!”, sending both Leslie and me into a spiraling panic.

There’s only one person right now in Kimberly’s care, only one person who could be the cause of such urgency and concern.

Kieran.

There’s an itch on my back.

Ordinarily, I’d either ignore it or scratch it. But my skin is so sensitive at the moment that I can’t ignore it, nor can I reach to scratch it. It’s located in that one spot on my back that I can’t reach by myself, and it’s driving me bonkers.

“Hey, are you okay there, Kieran?” Kimberly quietly asks. We’re tucked away in one corner of the breakfast nook off the kitchen, having just finished discussing my heat, limits, and boundaries. While Steve and Henley have been dealing with Adam, I’ve managed to come up with a safe word—Ephelba—and admit that I’d like to try pretty mucheverythingwitheveryone.I don’t want to do any of that gross bodily-fluid play, and the only bloodletting I’ll agree to is the one caused by my alphas—plural—biting me.

From all the yelling and the alpha barks, I get the impression that not only have Adam and Wisp met, but that their introduction may have become a little… shall we say…heated.

Yeah, I know, I’m very punny.

Thankfully, they all seem to have come to an accord of sorts, as their voices are now muted. Adam’s probably gone off to have a cold shower to help clear his head, not that I blame him for being intoxicated by my angel. After all, I’ve been enamored with her since she first appeared like magic in front of me and saved my life.

I wriggle and roll my shoulders, trying to alleviate the irritation to no avail. Whatever is causing the itching is being exacerbated by the fabric of my shirt. This makes no sense because the shirt—one I’ve borrowed from Leslie until I can scrounge up something of my own—is made from supima cotton and is soft and luxuriant to the touch. Nevertheless, there’s something beneath it that is setting my teeth on edge.

“I have an itch, right in the middle of my shoulder blades where I can’t reach, and it’s driving me nuts,” I complain, restlessly shifting in my seat once more.

Kimberly raises one hand, hovering it over my back as she quirks an eyebrow at me.

“May I? I know that sometimes omegas don’t like being touched in the early onset of their heats, so it’s perfectly fine to tell me ‘No’ if you feel that way,” she offers, and I simply bow my head in response.

The pleasure and relief that rushes through me as Kimberly lightly scratches between my shoulders is nearly orgasmic, and the groan that emerges from the depths of my chest does absolutely nothing to hide the fact from anyone watching or listening in.

“Yeah, you’ve got a little lump here, too big for a bug bite. Maybe it’s a piece of grit that we missed when we were cleaning you up earlier? Do you want me to check?”

I nod, too enraptured by Kimberly’s nails to vocalize a response, and shiver as she lifts the shirt, the fabric brushing against my skin in a slow and barely-there caress. Her touch isgentle as she probes around the area, then becomes firmer and more deliberate. I pay her little heed until she speaks once more, this time her tone urgent and worried.

“Kieran, do you have any sort of medical implant at all, including one that could be a slow-release medication of some sort?”

I shake my head in the negative, a tendril of unease unfurling in my gut.

“Have you ever suffered a spinal injury, or required surgery or therapy on your back? What about that?”

Again, I shake my head, and the tendril grows into a writhing mass.

“HENLEY!” Kimberly bellows, the sound of rapidly approaching feet thundering through the house before she even finishes his name.

“What, what is it? What’s the matter?” Henley barks, his feet sliding across the hardwood floor as he attempts to stop directly in front of me. He’s not the only one to make a sudden appearance, with Steve and a still-damp Adam not far behind him.

“Adam, good, maybeyoucan answer this,” Kimberly spits out, jabbing a finger into my back right where the itch is located. “Do you know of any sort of implant or other medical device that Kieran may have need for, one that could explain this very suspiciously shaped lump on his back? There’s no sign of injury or scarring that I can see, and to tell the truth it reminds me of the chip we had implanted in Gizmo’s neck when we had him neutered.”

Microchip.

Implanted.

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