Page 70 of Heat Me

The fear of being shamed for believing in ‘fairy tales’, in ‘HEA’, for being delusional or overly hopeful—was almost universal, like a standard reaction.

First—always deny!

Then, deny it even more.

Then, ideally, run away!

Push him away, reject him!

That was the accepted protocol. Maybe it served the purpose of testing, but we were literally drilled into behaving like that. Always doubting.

"Do you really believe it? That we’re True Mates? I’ve been holding it back for days because I didn’t want to overwhelm you, but—"

He cut me off, placing his hand gently over mine, his eyes soft.

"I know it, Storm."

God… the relief felt like an orgasm. We were finally on the same page.

So I whispered, "Ever since I first saw your picture. That shiver, that strange certainty… This saying, ‘the shoemaker’s children go barefoot’… With my knack for sensing matches, I doubted my own situation the most! But the truth was, I felt it with every fiber of my being—I knew you were my True Mate."

"And I remember the day when my friend, the… pug, told me about you. I trembled; it was like a breath of Fate on my neck. I even kinda imagined him—he had white hair and pale violet eyes. He said, ‘It’s him! Pursue this guy!’"

Yeah… about that. I knew someone who fit that description.

"One more thing, Damien: I didn’t take my suppressants this morning. I was all over the place, but that’s a good thing.By tomorrow, my receptors will be clear—it takes 24 hours—and we’ll have… undeniable proof."

I hesitated, glancing toward the door. "Give me a second, I’ll be right back."

Damien blinked again but nodded.

Feeling elated, I headed to the bathroom and started filling the tub with warm water. Luckily, this bathroom had a separate tub and shower, so I quickly hopped in the shower first—I didn’t want to stink after such a crazy day.

By the time I’d dried off, the tub was full. I walked back to the bedroom, where Damien was still lying in bed. Without a word, I pulled back the comforter.

Underneath, he was naked, his stomach still marked with dried traces of cum from our middle-of-the-night heat session.

A wave of guilt washed over me. Poor guy. He hadn't even moved since this morning! He hadn’t showered, hadn’t done anything. It was kind of heartbreaking.

I looked at him closely. "Damien, you didn’t even go to the bathroom?"

He turned his gaze away.

"I don’t know. I couldn’t. I didn’t feel good."

"Why? Did you really think I wouldn’t come back?"

His lips trembled slightly. "I was the one who pushed you away, wasn’t I? I couldn’t blame you if you didn’t return. And honestly, I felt the same as you, just in reverse. I thought someone like you would never be interested in someone like me—a small, chubby omega. I didn’t want to beg you to stay. It was easier to tell you to leave than to face the possibility of hearing you say it yourself."

I let my eyes wander over his soft body. "I’m so sorry you went through that, but it was all… unnecessary! This ‘small, chubby omega’ is my… perfection!"

I leaned down and slid my arms under his knees and back, lifting him up effortlessly. Without saying a word, I carried him to the bathroom. He lay quietly in my arms the whole way, not resisting.

Gently, I knelt by the tub and eased him into the warm water. He let out a small gasp as the heat touched his skin.

I grabbed a sponge, lathered it with soap, and knelt beside the tub, carefully washing his pale skin, dusted with faint, rosy freckles. Damien watched me the entire time.

"Is this all real?" he asked softly.

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