Page 40 of Heat Me

Damien looked at me like he wanted to say something but hesitated. Finally, he whispered, "Thank you. That’s really kind of you. It makes me feel—" He trailed off.

"It makes you feel—?" I prompted, even though I could tell we were venturing into sensitive territory.

He shrugged and shyly looked away. "Well, you know, all my omega instincts feel more fulfilled somehow. And even though I was so stressed before this heat, at least the stress is gone now. You taking care of my nest—I think that helps. It makes me feel like I'm being taken care… by you too."

Our eyes met, and this feeling passed between us—energy, trust, something unspoken, something rising.

I approached him slowly, knowing it wasn't the best idea, but I hugged him and pulled him close anyway. His face was pressed against my chest.

"Every omega should feel this way during heat. It’s such a deeply intimate experience; everything should work perfectly. I’m sorry it’s me—a stranger—here instead of someone you trust completely and know well. I hated seeing you stressed before, and I promise, with what little I can do, I’ll try to take some of that off your shoulders."

Damien looked up at me. We stood there, holding each other, and he stared at me. Were his eyes a little moist?

"The doctor told me stress can shorten heat significantly," he said softly. "It’s a delicate process—hormones are produced at lower levels during stress. I have a feeling today will be the last day."

I sighed heavily, feeling regret. "I guess the whole… refusal thing didn’t help."

He shook his head, stepping back. It felt wrong to let him go from my arms.

"Don’t worry about that. Looking back, I know you had good intentions, and I really appreciate that you didn’t want to treat this like a job."

"I’m here only because I want to be. It’s an amazing experience to share it with you."

Damien bit his lip. "If you’d taken the money, it would’ve been forever tainted." He let out a breath. "I would be fixating on: ‘What if he doesn’t really want this and just wants the cash?’ So now I’m sooo grateful for your decision!"

It was quite an effort to keep myself from saying more, declaring more, but still something slipped out.

"You have no idea how much your words mean to me, Damien. I struggled with that situation horribly. Even my cousin thought I was being irrational, but I just couldn’t do it. You didn’t deserve that—it’s your first heat."

He stared at the floor for a moment. "Thank you," he whispered.

Something intrigued me. "Um, where are your glasses?"

Damien blushed suddenly. "Umm… I have no idea why, but when I put them on, everything looked foggy. For some reason, I see more clearly without them today. Maybe they’re damaged or something—I don’t know."

I stared at him for a moment, noticing his intense blush.

Well, the whole idea of us being True Mates, which I had been entertaining in my head the whole time, seemed like a perfect explanation for this.

Was Damien aware of it? Only True Mates could heal each other, and since we’d slept together for two days, the healing might’ve already started! His eyesight could actually be returning to normal.

I hesitated. If I brought it up, it would be like an avalanche. We’d have to admit out loud what we were. But I wasn’t sure he was ready.

Damien cleared his throat. "Come on. I made breakfast for you. Have something to eat."

Well, I guess he wasn’t ready.

So I just smiled. "You spoil me, Damien. That’s really nice, but I can order something or even make something myself. I bought ingredients to cook us something interesting…"

"Maybe later. For now, pancakes are waiting for you. I even ate half of one myself."

We entered the kitchen, and sure enough, there was a giant pile of blueberry pancakes under a transparent lid. I paused for a moment. It was impossible not to notice Damien making an effort—was this his way of showing gratitude, or was there more to it? Was this a subtle invitation to his life, to sharing it with me?Storm, stop imagining things! These are just pancakes, not a confession of love!

"Oh, they look delicious!" I sat down and started eating immediately. Damien watched me the whole time, just like he had during previous meals.

"You really eat a lot," he said with a smirk.

"I’m 7’2" and weigh 650 pounds. I need to fuel these guns." I winked, flexing my biceps.

---