Page 94 of Want It All
Oh.
I felt a rush of emotion – elation, relief, gratitude. Tristan had claimed me, publicly, as part of his pack.
I hadn’t known if I’d fully forgiven him, or whether he was ready to take that next step. But my chest went tight and my fingers burned with the urge to touch him; something in me eased, knowing this alpha –my alpha– had my back.
I swallowed. ‘Thank you, Tristan,’ I whispered, and shouldered my bag, slipping from the library as he and Heathcote continued their staring competition.
I knew which one of them would win.
I rushed to the apartment;ourapartment, now, I supposed. The promised storm had arrived with a vengeance and it was dark as fuck outside, the wind howling like a pack of wolves.There was supposed to be a movie night after dinner in the First Year Library, and the weather would be perfect for a horror film.
The feeling of wrongness grew stronger as I took the stairs two at once; I all but ran down the hallway, my fingers trembling as I unlocked the door and pushed it open.
‘Seb?’
There was no answer. He wasn’t in the kitchen, nor the lounge room. I dumped my bag and laptop on the couch, then dashed into the nest.
He wasn’t on the nest-bed. ‘Seb?’ I called again, turning to check the bathroom.
I stopped when I heard a soft groan.
It came from behind the bed, between it and the window. Sebastian was on the floor, curled up in the small space, his arms wrapped around his stomach. His brow was covered in a sheen of sweat and his cheeks were a deep, hectic red.
‘Seb, baby, holy shit,’ I babbled, sinking to my knees. ‘What –’
He groaned again. ‘Hurts.’
A wave of perfume washed over me, and the taste of cherries – so potent I might have bitten into a handful – slid down my throat. It was strong, far stronger than it should have been with blockers, and my body responded with a flood of its own perfume and a sudden rush of slick.
I understood, then.
‘Seb, fuck.’ I hurried to close the blinds. There was no sun coming from outside, but the storm clouds looked as though they were full of lightning, which would be even worse for his over-sensitive eyes. ‘Seb, baby, you’re in heat.’
‘Can’t be,’ he panted. His body seized as a wave of pain rolled through him. I knew from experience how bad it was, and how he’d be burning up one minute and freezing cold the next, how bright lights would hurt his eyes and how his skin would feel like a livewire.
‘I’ll run you a bath.’ I dashed to the lounge room and fished in my bag for my phone. Tristan didn’t answer when I called, so I sent him a text as I ran to the bathroom. I left the light off, running the water until it was hot enough to relax muscles but not enough to burn. I didn’t add any oils or bubbles, because I didn’t know what scent he’d be craving, but I did light a candle that wafted a delicious, subtle vanilla.
Tristan hadn’t responded to my text by the time I got back to the nest. I slowly coaxed Sebastian out of his pyjamas and into the bathroom. Thunder rumbled outside, and I saw the sparking brightness of lightning when it flashed behind the curtains.
Sebastian’s cock was red and swollen, precum pooling at the tip as he stumbled to the bathroom. I tried not to touch him, because I knew his skin would be over-sensitive until the heat settled in properly. ‘Seb, baby, have you been taking your heat suppressants?’
‘Of course,’ he said crossly. ‘I never forget, and even if I did, Tristan would remind me. I can’t be in heat, Rosebud. I just have the flu or something.’
‘Sure.’ I held out my arm to help him into the tub; he sighed in pleasure as he sank down and the hot water hit his tight muscles. ‘A flu that’s given you stomach cramps, backache, light and skin sensitivity, and a raging boner. Makes sense.’
He opened his beautiful blue eyes to scowl at me. ‘It’s not a heat, Rose.’
‘Okay. You won’t want your alpha, then.’
His pupils blew out immediately; beneath the water, his cock jumped, as if it had a mind of its own. He glared at me. ‘That means nothing,’ he insisted. ‘Ialwayswant my alpha.’
Which was true, but I suspected that in half an hour or so, Sebastian would bebeggingfor him.
I called Tristan again; again, he didn’t answer.Where are you?I sent, unease churning in my stomach.Seb is in pre-heat. You need to be here.
My poor omega sank to lie in the water and closed his eyes. His golden hair flowed out in a waving halo, his cheeks still pink with a heat-flush.
He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
