Page 16 of Pack Scratch Fever
Don’t you want a family one day?
This time, though, I rush through the front door, drop my purse on the old coffee table, and beeline for my bedroom.
I yank open the puny closet and pull every nesting blanket I can off the shelves and toss them on the mattress.
I still haven’t bought a bed frame yet—a mattress is enough.
I pull off my blouse and unbutton my jeans, frantically shimmying out of my clothes until I’m just in my underwear and bra, then flop onto the mattress with anoof.
The fabric feels incredible against my skin. I nuzzle into the blankets, draping them around me and letting the cotton rub against my sensitive breasts.
“Oh, shit,” I gasp. “Oh, no.”
Reaching between my legs, I grimace at the amount of slick that drips onto my fingers.
Goosebumps pebble my arms, and I whimper in desperation.
I fluff the blankets and pillows and toss and turn in an effort to be more comfortable.
I lie in my makeshift nest with my heart racing and my inner Omega yearning for something she doesn’t have.
Don’t think about them. Don’t think about them at all.
But the scents from the day still linger on me. The mixture of herbs, tea, and spices makes my womb clench, and I squeeze my thighs shut and curl into a ball, gritting my teeth.
I can’t go into Heat. There’s no time, and the last time I went into one, it didn’t go well.
It was a shitty one-night stand, with just one Alpha. He sneered at me, told me I smelled like dirt, and left me alone the next day, rejected and lonely in a hotel.
He wanted me for a quick knot, and that was it.
Ever since, the suppressants have been my answer to everything.
I’m not sure which is worse—going through a Heat alone or risking a repeat of what happened during my last one.
A lonely hotel bed, bad room service, and low thread count sheets to nest in.
The stale scent of a faded Alpha wearing too much cheap cologne.
No.
I reach for my nightstand, opening the low drawer and pulling out a bottle of pills.
I told Blair I wouldn’t keep doing this, but with the shame and memories from before, I can’t do it again.
I have to put off my Heat for as long as possible, even if it makes me sick.
I unscrew the bottle and pop the two pills into my mouth, swallowing them dry. Then, I toss the bottle onto the carpet, wrap myself in comforters, and try my best to sleep.
Tomorrow, I’ll wean myself off the suppressants.
Tomorrow.
4
AVERY
I miss the kittens.
