Chapter Six

Why is it so hot?

Mia rolled again in her bed, tossing the sheet off. It was nearly morning, and Mia had woken up every hour or so.

She wiped sweat from her brow and kicked the bedding as if that would show it.

They were supposed to head back to town today. Was that it? Was she just afraid of getting back to real life?

What does that even mean?

She pictured sitting at her desk, her stupid World’s Best Boss cup she’d gotten from the alphas as a gift a few years before. How could she fit into that little box again?

She’d drifted off earlier as she’d leaned against Hart’s side, and Shepard had tossed his arm around her shoulders. The thought of resuming her old routine, of keeping them at a distance again, seemed impossible.

And yet she had no other choice.

She rolled out of bed, unable to bear the heat any longer. Down the stairs and to the left was the thermostat—she’d watch Hart set it the first day. Maybe someone had messed with it? Or perhaps it had broken?

She had no idea, but she needed to check before she ended up nothing more than a pile of goo.

She stepped carefully, not wanting to wake anyone. They’d all been up late, playing a boardgame she’d grown tired of halfway through the instructions. As soon as she got the temperature under control, she expected to fall back into bed herself. The dragging exhaustion the last few days was only made worse by her inability to sleep.

At the thermostat, Mia gave the thing a glare. Sixty-eight degrees.

There is no way it is sixty-eight degrees. Her heart pounded like she was sunbathing in triple-digit temperatures.

She turned the thermostat down until the AC clicked on, figuring it had to be broken. Once she’d finished, she turned to go back upstairs.

The door to Dax’s room sat open, and she couldn’t stop herself from tiptoeing to it. Inside, Dax lay on his stomach, spread out over his bed, blanket kicked away. He wore nothing, a fact that didn’t shock her. Her gaze traced every exposed inch of him, the room lit by the bright glow of a digital clock. He had a lean figure, much like the other two, and his normally stylish hair was wild as he slept. In the darkness, it even seemed more brown than the blond the sun made it appear. He had a narrow waist, and his ass looked far better naked than she’d expected. A tattoo sat on his thigh, one she’d never known about, curving around and over part of his left ass cheek. It was a black tribal design, one that stood out bright against his lighter skin.

Her fingers hurt, and it took her looking at them to realize she’d gripped the door frame so tightly that all the color had blanched from her knuckles.

Her breathing had grown shallow and her head had gone fuzzy.

I want to go in there. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember why that was such a bad idea. I could roll him over and wake him up with my lips around his—

She jerked backward at the thought and—worse—at how she’d started to step into the room.

What is wrong with me?

She peered back at the open door, at the figure she could still see, and a rolling wave of need that went so deep it almost hurt clued her in.

Suddenly, that overwhelming desire took a backseat to a cold chill and she trembled.

There was no other explanation.

I’m going into heat, and it’s too late to stop it.

* * * *

Mia hated the gowns that the omega clinic gave out. They were nice enough, thin and made of real cotton. She suspected they were supposed to calm her, that the soft fabric would ease her while the material whisked away sweat from her skin.

At least the clinic kept the rooms chilly. It helped with the way her body felt like an overheating furnace.

She still recalled her first time in such a place, when her mother had spirited her away from the house in the middle of the night to the local clinic like some dirty little secret.

That’s not fair. Mia rubbed at her eyes, knowing her general poor mood was making her critical. Her mother loved her and had done everything she could to keep Mia safe, which in their world meant hidden.

She’d only spent the first part of her heat conscious before one of the doctors had come in and given her a sedative. The rest of the event had passed in a blur of drugged pain and soft whimpers amongst a nest she’d made of blankets in the corner.

Since then all her heats had occurred in clinics. The idea of going through one at home terrified her, even as far out as her home was. She would always picture some alpha venturing too close, catching a whiff and following it to her. She knew damn well she’d never refuse him.

She’d gone without medication a few times, experiencing the full brunt of the painful horror that was her natural biology. If an alpha were present, she’d have begged for him to take her just to make it stop.

A soft knock on the door preceded a doctor walking in. Only betas worked at the clinics, a safety measure since they were unaffected by an omega’s heat. This one was a woman who had a pair of large glasses perched on her nose and a clipboard in her hand. She didn’t wear a doctor’s coat, but rather a pair of scrubs with a cartoon character on them.

She reminded Mia of a kid’s doctor. Then again, some omegas went into heats young, so maybe they needed that.

The thought made Mia shudder.

“How are you feeling?” The doctor lifted pages of the file, her gaze tracing whatever was written there.

“Fine.” Not strictly true, but a close enough answer. Asking someone whose insides were rioting and wrecking the place how they were feeling was a stupid question anyway. If the question was stupid, she felt justified in being a bitch with her answer.

Which was, again, probably a result of her poor mood.

She’d been at the clinic for three hours already, and worse, it was one she’d never been to. She couldn’t have gone to the one back in her own town, because that drive wouldn’t have been smart in her condition. Instead, she’d taken the SUV they’d driven there and searched on her phone for the nearest clinic. They’d been able to get the records from her regular clinic—all files were anonymous and placed under a number to ensure privacy—and hurried her in.

The doctor finally lifted her gaze to look at Mia directly, and she had that same edge of pity they all had. Mia understood why betas worked at such places. Omegas could be driven into their own heats by the proximity, and alphas couldn’t be trusted. The only alphas allowed were the ones who either gave samples—scents to ease omegas—or the ones who came to service those who chose that route.

Mia had never dared that. The chances of pregnancy were low, since alphas would take a medication to help prevent conception, but they weren’t zero. Plus, the idea of being mounted by some random alpha who volunteered to fuck omegas in heat had never sounded all that appealing to her.

Still, she always felt a bit like a specimen to the beta doctors and nurses, like something they studied but couldn’t really understand themselves.

“You’ve done this before,” the doctor said. “Do you have changes to your medical history? Any questions? Concerns?”

Mia shook her head.

“I’m surprised it’s been this long. Have you been isolating?”

Lack of exposure to alphas could help extend the time between heats.

“I’ve been using suppressants.”

“Ah,” she said, disapproval in her tone. The use of the medication was widespread, but not always supported. “Then I’d guess you’re taking more than you should?”

Mia shivered, the clawing pain in her stomach enough to force her to hunch forward and breathe slowly through it.

When it eased, she remained leaning forward. “I’ve been taking enough.”

She made a soft sound, something that said she disagreed.

Too bad. You’re not the one who had to go through it.

“Well, this will probably be an especially rough heat, then. The more you put them off, the worse they are when they do show. I’m going to suggest heavy sedation, and we’ll monitor you the entire time.”

Which sounded perfect to Mia. Already the pain, the dryness in her throat, the sluggish way her brain worked all said she did not want to try and ride this heat out awake and aware. Plus, all the other times her thoughts had been scattered. This time she could still smell the alphas on her, could picture them. If she tried to endure this one, she’d be entirely consumed by thoughts of them.

She’d left them without a word and shut off her phone as soon as she’d found her way to the clinic. They’d be worried, no doubt, and maybe she should have felt guilty about it. Leaving without explanation, especially with the situation with Mack, was foolish. They’d think the worst. Still, she hadn’t had a choice.

She’d needed to get out of there before one of them woke and came close enough to her to realize. They’d smell it on her, know what she was, and everything would be over. She would lose everything. Not to forget that she had a poor sense of self-control at the best of times, so even calling or sending them a message made her worry. What if they convinced her to explain to them? What if they tricked her into giving them details and they ended up finding her?

No, as hard as it was, this was for the best. With Mack behind bars, she was safe.

They’d forgive her for running off eventually. She would claim it was a panic reaction, that she was sorry. She could resume her life after her heat, even if they were mad. If they found out the truth, though, it was all over.

The doctor told her it would be another few hours before they would administer the sedative, enough time for her body to fully transition into heat.

Once alone in the room, Mia took one of the moments between the waves of pain to glance around. The room was small but cozy. They didn’t have beds, but rather a large mattress on the floor in the corner with folded, clean bedding at the end. Not just one blanket, but enough to pile them however instinct demanded to create a nest.

She rarely did so, though. Somehow it felt like a mockery to make one knowing she’d be in it drugged and alone. There was a minifridge in the other corner full of food and water bottles and a shelf of books and magazines for those hours before it quite hit, when distraction helped.

They seemed to do everything to make the room comfortable, but it was still just a room, the same type she’d suffered in time and time again.

She moved off the small portable exam table, all the vital-taking and prodding done with. Her grip around the front of her gown kept it closed. In hospitals they made these open in the back, but she guessed the ones for omegas were different, because the ones she’d had in the clinic always opened in the front.

To give alphas access. A soft, broken moan escaped her lips as she pictured Hart’s dark hands parting that fabric and sliding along her sweat-soaked skin.

Another wave started, slow like a tsunami, first pulling away and making her feel empty. Her knees gave out and she hit the hard tile floor, the pain washing over her until she released a whine and curled into a ball.

The door opened, probably one of the nurses checking on her. She lifted her lip to snarl, wanting them to all just go away.

“Unless you have the sedatives get the fuck out,” Mia bit out through the pain.

“No sedatives, sorry.”

That voice. Mia closed her eyes tightly until the pain finished. There was no way to rush it, to stop it, so she could only try to not tense as it clawed its way through her body and left her breathless and weak.

Once it stopped, when it gave her a moment of reprieve, she twisted to find what she already knew she would.

The alphas stood there, staring at her.

They knew everything.