Page 74 of Sweet Omega
Tarymn shoved to his feet, every inch of him burning up. He staggered into the washroom and slammed the door shut behind him.
He needed to cool off. Now!
He activated the bathing bot and set it to freezing. Clothes hit the floor in a heap. Without hesitation, he lowered himself into the ice-cold water, his breath punching out of his lungs as his body screamed in protest.
The freezing water dulled the fire raging beneath his skin, but it was only a temporary fix. He had four fucking days to get through, and every cell in his body knew he wouldn’t survive them alone.
Aggressive alphas weren’t built to endure their heats alone. Some managed, sure. But… Tarymn had never done it. Never had to. And now…
Now his mate was just outside his room.
Close enough to scent.
Close enough to touch.
It was a disaster waiting to happen.
He needed help.
Tarymn squeezed his eyes shut, willing the ache in his body to ease. When he opened them, one name surfaced.
Sirhe.
Sirhe helped Ludiin. Maybe he could help him too.
He hauled himself out of the bathing bot, shivering as the icy water raced down his overheated skin. The drying bot turned on, a gust of warm air hitting his skin as he stumbled toward his pants, hastily digging out his connector. His fingers trembled as he searched for Sirhe’s code and hit the connect button with a shaky breath.
The line clicked.
“Tarymn?” Sirhe sounded distracted. “You caught me at a bad time. I’ve got surgery in a few minutes.”
Shit.
“How long is it going to take?”
“Two hours.”
Tarymn bit down a curse. “The sedative you gave Ludiin, does it work on alphas? I need something that’ll knock me out.”
Sirhe fell silent for a moment, then launched into scientific talk that flew right over Tarymn’s head.
“Sirhe. Yes or no,” he ground out.
“I’ll let you know after surgery,” Sirhe replied, and the connection died.
Tarymn exhaled harshly.
I can wait. I can wait.He repeated as he trudged into his room, heading for the clothing cubicle. He grabbed the first pair of sleeping pants his hand touched and yanked them on just as the door hissed open.
Pitra stepped inside, holding something red in his hands.
“Here,” he said, walking over and offering the shirt. Tarymn took one whiff of the soft fabric and froze.
Ludiin.
His scent hit him like the sweetest madness. Every nerve in his body tingled, and a gasp slipped from his lips before he could stop it.
“What the hell, Pitra?” he rasped, backing away even as every instinct screamed to lunge forward and bury himself in that scent.
