Page 52 of Knot for Sale

She made another unhappy noise and squirmed, drawing a hiss from Onyx as she jostled the place where they were joined. Em’s eyes flitted back and forth beneath her closed eyelids like someone having a bad dream.

Gabriel sat down nearby. “Do we need to try and get her somewhere with decent alphomic medical care?” he asked, his tone tight.

Curran shook his head. “Not a lot that a hospital could do, at this point. Even in the twenty-first century, once a heat starts, adding drugs only makes things worse. Drugs are why she’s in this state in the first place.”

I felt sick to my stomach, but I said, “I’ve never heard of anyone actually dying from a bad heat. Only wishing they would.”

“There are things we can try, in hopes of making her more comfortable,” Curran said. “Depending on which hormones areoff. Onyx, let us know when she unclenches and lets you go. Fair warning, you lot—this is likely to be a long few days.”

TWENTY-FOUR

Emma

WHAT HAD FELT like a dream when I was riding Onyx’s alpha clit to completion now felt like a nightmare. I needed more, but my body felt paralyzed with exhaustion. Unhappy moans and whines echoed distantly in my ears. Mine? I wasn’t sure.

I could barely twitch my fingers. My aching passage finally relaxed, and the wet slide of Onyx’s deflating knot slipping out of me ignited fresh embers of heat that I couldn’t do anything about. Other voices reached me, though I couldn’t focus enough to make out the sense of the words. Two points of chilly cold draped over my forehead and neck. Even so, sweat trickled down my body, tickling every nerve as it passed. I wanted to wipe it away and couldn’t.

As though my thoughts had summoned it, a cool, damp cloth rubbed over my skin, starting with my forehead and moving down my neck and torso. It felt like an electric shock when it passed over my nipples, and more like a stick of dynamite when it swiped between my legs, mopping up the mess of my slick.

I cried out and jerked, or I thought I did. Maybe not, since the cool cloth just kept going, running damply over my legs. When it was done, a light blanket draped over me. More voices filtered in, sounding worried, and the clean scent of roses and sprucebracketed me. Bodies lay down on either side of me, leaving a slight gap between us.

The feverish heat and oversensitivity kept me from giving in to my body’s desperate longing for sleep. Time passed in a torturous slide of discomfort and exhaustion. Occasionally the voices would speak, but it sounded like they were underwater, or else I was. When the sweat started trickling down my skin again, the cloth returned to wipe it away.

An eternity later, the awful paralysis began to fade. The burning need had never subsided at all. I rolled clumsily toward the smell of roses and rain, slinging a leg over the familiar form so I could rub myself against it, rutting shamelessly.

Elijah’s breath caught. He rolled onto an elbow, reaching out to clasp my shoulder. Not pushing me away, exactly, but definitely trying to get my attention. I looked up at him blearily, the movements of my hips slowing.

“Can you understand me, dove?” he asked. “Do you know where you are?”

I blinked at him, replaying the words a few times until they made sense. But I’d already forgotten the first question. “N-no?” I managed, answering the second.

Why was he trying to talk to me right now? I was so hot—I needed something to fill me up. But I was alsoso tired...

A new presence joined us, rich incense teasing my nostrils. I swayed toward that scent, something about it reassuring. A craggy face loomed in my swimming vision.Curran, my mind identified after a moment.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, in his rough East London voice. “Can you tell me what was happening before you woke up? Were you in pain? Just nod yes or no.”

I thought about it for a few seconds and shook my head no.

“Too hot to relax?” he asked.

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