Page 49 of Heat Me

The suffocating sense of wrongness in my chest was building to a breaking point. My ears picked up on something—a faint, barely audible beeping. It was rhythmic, like an old digital timer or stopwatch.

No one else seemed to notice it. The guards outside the room, along with Lowen’s one guard stationed by the door, showed no signs of alarm. It wasn’t surprising, though. As a purple alpha, my senses were far sharper, and even I could barely hear it.

Unable to stand it any longer, I took a step toward Mr. Ragu and said firmly, "We need to leave this room. Right now. Something’s not right."

Mr. Ragu shot me a look of disbelief and irritation, clearly annoyed at my interruption. But Lowen’s reaction was entirely different. His sharp, light sapphire eyes locked onto mine, and I could tell he believed me.

Without a word, he shot to his feet and rushed toward me.

What happened next defied my imagination. I reached out, grabbing Blue Lowen around the waist and turning my back to the podium.

"Get down!" I roared, feeling a little bad about leaving the others, especially Mr. Ragu, who was my boss and an omega, but there was nothing I could do.

In two powerful strides, I lunged toward the far end of the room, flipping over a snack table with a forceful kick. Diving behind it with Lowen, we tumbled to the floor just as a massive explosion ripped through the air…

The building shook violently.

The deafening blast nearly knocked me out, and debris rained down on us—splinters of furniture, shattered ceiling panels, glass, loose wires.

But all I could think about was Damien. The conference room was separated from the room where he was staying by just one wall. If the explosion had come from the podium, the blast had been dangerously close to it.

In my head, I felt a strange, schizophrenic tug-of-war. On one hand, I knew I should protect Lowen—both as his bodyguard, even if only for one day, and because he was a petite omega—so my deeply ingrained instincts spiked off the charts. But on the other hand, I was certain Damien needed me too. Judging by the state of the room—ceiling panels in shreds, metal beams dangling precariously, and the air thick with smoke and dust—it was clear this was a dire situation. I could barely see, and all I could hear were groans, likely from Mr. Ragu and the others. I wasn’t even sure if everyone was alive, though the faint sound of pounding hearts gave me some hope.

For a moment, I was paralyzed by indecision. Was it safe to leave the cover of the table? Was the bomb the main attack, or was there more waiting for us? If I stepped out now, I had no idea what I’d face. But I had to get to Damien. He was the priority.

I looked at Lowen, unsure how to even begin explaining the presence of his own nephew here, so the words tumbled out just like that, pure instinct:

"My boyfriend’s in the next room—I have to go to him! I don’t want to leave you here, but I do have to check on him. The wall might’ve collapsed; he could need my help."

Lowen’s face was pale, his expression a mix of despair and disillusionment. Was he thinking about how his people had failed him yet again? He lay on his back, half-pinned under me, his eyes meeting mine with startling clarity.

"Take me with you. Only you can save me."

Why would he assume that? I was a stranger to him. Yet for some reason, he trusted me, so I nodded.

"Alright, but it’ll be riskier for you. Are you sure?"

"Yes. I won’t stay here alone."

That’s when I noticed something odd—my voice sounded different. My glands tickled, and I realized my fighting mode was activating. That didn’t happen often, but under these circumstances? Totally justified.

My entire body felt like it was burning and tingling, a sensation that told me the bony spines hidden in my body were about to emerge from the purple streaks along my limbs. I couldn’t risk Lowen being pressed up against me any longer.

Clearing my throat, I groaned out, "Listen, I’m going into fighting mode. When I transform, I… change. I lose control over the spikes, you know, the bone protrusions that will come out of my body." I explained awkwardly. "Stay behind me, but keep a safe distance, alright?"

His eyes widened in shock, but he nodded. Every purple alpha had unique abilities. The spines and bone plates were pretty standard, but how they formed, where they emerged, and their size varied from one person to the next.

He glanced at my shoulders, probably noticing how my suit strained against the changes taking place. I had to get rid of my clothes, and I did, while he stared at me. I left only my boxers on. Then, carefully, I peeked over the edge of the table. The room was a dense fog of smoke and debris—visibility was nearly zero.

"Stay close!" I barked, my voice almost unrecognizable, deeply low.

I rose, feeling my body morph in real time. Pressure built in my chest and abdomen as bone plates shifted under my skin, sliding into place to shield my vulnerable organs. The sensationwas sharp and piercing, like being split apart from the inside, but I pushed through the pain, adrenaline helping with that.

Guided by instinct, I made my way toward the door. Lowen followed, his presence quiet behind me. As I emerged from the dust cloud, my foot nudged something. I realized it was a body—one of the guards. Lowen must’ve noticed him too because he murmured, "Jason? Jason, are you alive?"

Silence. I couldn’t even hear a heartbeat. The grim reality hit me—this wasn’t just a dream. People were dying. Up until now, it had felt somewhat surreal, like a scene from an action movie. But now? This was a nightmare we couldn’t wake up from.

The glass doors leading out of the conference room were shattered. I stepped through carefully, scanning the smoky hallway beyond. The visibility was still terrible.

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