Chapter 19: Heat

This wasn't my body.

This didn't feel like my body.

This body felt foreign. It felt strong, it felt attentive, it felt powerful. In all of my eighteen years, nothing had ever felt that way. Powerful was never a synonym for Darcy.

The sun was shining brilliantly through the window. It was open and warm, an easy breeze drifting through. It had to be at least eighty out, and I peeled the blanket off of my legs, wrinkling my nose at the smell. Sweat and body odor - it was like I hadn't showered in a week.

My glasses weren't on my face, but I could see better than ever. I saw every little hair on my skin, every thread in the blanket. I could smell grass and flowers and pollen. I was alone in the room, but I could hear voices coming from far off, chatting and laughing. I could hear the smiles on their faces.

"I mean, come on - I get that he wanted to get laid, but he was acting so desperate."

"He was so thirsty! Like, seriously!"

I did my best to tune out of the chatter. Instead, I stood, stumbling slightly on my legs. I wasn't sure how long I'd been out, been in the coma, but my entire body felt weak. Then, a voice.

Darcy? It was Nicks voice. I'd grown sort of used to it, by now, but I wasn't used to the tone of his voice in my head. It was a question. Directed at me. Everything came rushing back to me then.

He'd marked me. He'd wedged himself into my mind, and by now, he probably knew the deepest, darkest secrets I had. He probably had a fucking condo in my head. He'd saved my life, and I was thankful for that - hell, I couldn't blame him, his animal wouldn't let it's mate die. But by doing so, he'd stripped me of my free will. Of my right to choose the life I wanted. He didn’t have a choice, I had to remind myself.

Pain hit me like a brick wall. It wasn't bullet-in-your-forehead pain, but it was like I had the chicken pox. I wanted to scratch myself all over, but the itch was down to the bone. I'd have to tear right through my skin, and I almost wanted to, to make it stop.

My nails scratched against my wrist, and I gasped when it burned. When I glanced down and stared at the thin lines of blood. I'd literally scratched myself.

Alpha strength alright.

You'll get used to it. He told me, making me frown. When I'd marked him, I'd had the decency to keep the wall up; he'd jumped right over onto my side. I could feel him in my head, a slight buzzing in the back of my mind. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was annoying, like a persistent fly.

I'm just trying to make sure you're alright.

Fuck you.

Will do.

I heard his laugh, and that sent my anger to the back of my mind. All I could think about was how wonderful that laugh was, how I wanted him right here with that laugh. And his body. Oh, the things I would d-

The pain intensified. Everything itched even worse, and I had to ball my hands into fists to resist losing my shit and tearing my skin off. I was in heat, I reminded myself. And the only one who could fix it was...

Almost there.

He literally read my mind, and I didn't complain this time. I could feel him moving closer, my heart skipping a beat every time he rounded a corner. Closer, closer...

He swung the door open looking like a dog with a bone. Literally. His eyes were wide, his chest heaving as he panted, and I half expected him to come scoop me up and take me off to his silver chariot. But he didn't, because he was reasonable. Relatively.

Instead, he shut the door and grabbed a chair, propping it under the handle to keep others from coming in. Then, he was in front of me, leaving me sandwiched between him and the bed.

"Lay dow-" He started, but I wasn't dealing with that Alpha bullshit, not anymore. There was a new little voice in the back of my head, an Alpha herself.

"No." I told him, shaking my head. I grabbed him by the collar of his tee shirt, pulling him in and pressing my lips against his. It wasn't slow and romantic, I didn't have the patience for that right now. I was hungry, the animal was hungry. And he was a steak.

There wasn't that hot, electrifying feeling, not anymore. Instead, it was so... familiar. It was like I'd known his mouth my entire life, it was safe and comfortable and reassuring. My hands flittered up to his shirt and, lacking any form of patience, I tore it in half down the center.

I didn't take time for the cliche stuff. I didn't marvel at the spectacular abs. I didn't yank his pants to his ankles and check him out. Every instinct I had wanted this pain to stop, and there was only one way to-

"Darcy, wait." He said, panting once I'd begun to tug his boxers down. I glared up at him, my lips set into a frown, not sure what could possibly matter more than- "I don’t think we’re— ready for kids at the moment."

Oh. The idea of protection hadn't even crossed my mind, and I was ready to say fuck it and hope for the best when he pulled a little red square from his pocket, clearing his throat.

"Just hurry." I said with a frown, reaching behind my head and tearing the few strings that held the hospital gown together, letting it drop to the floor. He took a minute to give me a once-over, but thought better of wasting time. I stood there, unsure of what to do or how to tell when he was... ready, but he had me pinned onto the bed a minute later.

His hands, firm and calloused against the flesh of my legs, lifted them to place each on his shoulder. My breath is hitched as he moves in, his tongue meeting parts of me that I hadn’t thought were possible. It’s not long until I’m panting and moaning, heels digging into his back muscles, back arching as a tension built inside of me, pushing me closer, closer, until I was a sweating, panting, screaming mess.

By the time I calmed down enough to look at him, I see a small smile toying on his lips, taking some delight in the show he’d orchestrated. My entire body feels limp and weak, every movement far too much effort, and though the Alpha in the back of my head demanded more, I didn’t have the strength to go throwing him down. I wasn’t sure I had the strength to even sit up in that moment.

“You okay?” He asks, but between our boundary I feel his thoughts pressing, and I know he knows I’m fine. He thinks this is— funny.

“I need more,” I managed to mumble, the last of the tremors of pleasure dying off as he slid upward, his mouth finding mine. His lips are firm against my own, rough and hungry, my arms wrapping around his shoulders, nails unwillingly digging into the flesh of his shoulders, the need and anticipation building inside of me as his hips aligned with mine, pressing at the entrance, and then—

Then, the itch stopped.

A tidal wave of relief floods me, that painful need for more leaving from beneath my skin as Nick made his way into me. Slow, at first, tense but gentle enough for my body. Slow, then faster, then harder. He eases into it, and all of a sudden I need more, and it’s not long until he’s gripping the thin metal frame of the bed and twisting it out of shape, cries of pleasure escaping us as we go for a small eternity. My heels dig into his lower back, the place he’d marked me burning.

The boundaries between our minds fall, and there’s no thinking. No dark thoughts of his, no fear. I catch a glimpse of myself through his eyes in that moment, feel every movement from his perspective, and he slips into mine. Through this, he’s apparently aware enough to recognize I’m being scooted upward, and his hands grip my hips tightly, lifting me into his arms and pressing me against the wall. A moan escapes me as his hands move to my rear, supporting me as he moves, his face burying itself in my neck.

And then, those waves are rolling of me. Pleasure and relief and exhaustion as every muscle tightens, my nails digging into his back, and his hands tighten hard enough on me that I know it’ll bruise, and I relish every second of it. We stay like that for a moment, sweaty and exhausted as we hold each other until the waves subside into slow ebbs and falls, and after a minute we collapse onto the starchy sheets, half entangled.

We lie there, side by side on the creaky twin mattress in the makeshift hospital, listening to the sound of the heartbeats. Our heartbeats, the heartbeats of the people in the hallway, the heartbeats of everyone in the house. The sound echoed between our minds like drums, and I felt myself pour back into my body.

"Nick?" I asked quietly, my voice seeming so loud in the silence.

"Yeah?"

"How long was I out?"

"A little over five months."

His words hit me like a thousand bricks. I'd lost five months of my life. I'd lost five months of the lives of those around me. Minnie would have gone into labor by now, she'd have had the twins. Natalie and Tyler, they ought to have pups of their own. Five months, I'd been dormant in this bed while everyone I knew kept living without me.

Everyone except-

"She's buried in the cemetery, not far from here. The funeral was nice." He spoke softly, staring down at me with a sympathetic, yet cautious expression. He was worried I'd act out. I'd go suck on the end of a shot gun and try to join her. In a way, I sort of had; Candy had died, and I'd charged at Mila like I could actually do something.

I bit back the tears. I couldn't cry, wouldn't cry, because I wasn't sad. I was angry.

"Mila got out, in the chaos of everything. I could stop her, or I could save you, and I— had to make that choice."

"You should have chosen her." I said quietly, a coldness seeping into my tone. I was angry. Not because Mila had shot me, but because she'd shot Candy. Candy had never done anything, she'd always been good. She took care of us, of the whole family. She was the other parent in place of our father. She was funny and friendly, she was open and honest and unafraid of anyone and anything. She was so fucking strong.

He didn't even have to speak. I saw it in his mind, the argument, the rebuttal.

“We have people hunting her down, she’ll be found and justice will be served. She’s got nothing, no one. Her army is my army now. They've all been forced to submit and become a part of my pack. Anyone who refused was killed. Mil-" He began trying to explain it out loud, but I was dumbfounded.

Pushing myself up, I twisted my body to face his, frowning. "Nick, why the fuck did you recruit them? Are they here? The people who were ready to kill your mate and sister?" I snapped, unable to help the rush of anger and frustration flowing through me, so much stronger with the impulses of an Alpha. "Nick, one of them put a gun to my head. He would have killed me if given the orders."

He sat up himself, so calm, so collected. I could see the disapproval in his mind. He thought I was being childish - as though I didn't have a right to be pissed.

"That's a good soldier. They would gave killed if given the order. They physically can't act out against you unless it's a challenge, Darcy. They don't have the rank to be able to do that. They'll do whatever I say, whenever I say it. That's how most of my men are, how I've gotten most of them."

I was angry. I was furious. My blood was boiling beneath my skin and I wanted to shout and break something and tell him that this wasn't right, this wasn't fair.

"I want her dead. At my own hands. I want to know that bitch will rot like she deserves.”

“You need to be composed about this, Darcy,” he says, standing up and tugging his pants back on, worried eyes following my movements, “you let your heart run you too much, you need to use your head. Don’t let this anger become you.” I glance at him in time to see the unspoken words etched into his features; not like it became me.

"I need to see it." I say quietly, sliding off of the bed.

“What?”

“Her grave.”

He swallows, nods. "There's some clothes in the closet over there. Someone can drive you." Nick said quietly, and I followed his gaze to the rather inconspicuous closet in the corner.

I wasted no time and no air, rushing over and pulling out the tee shirt and blue jeans and tugging them on. I turned for the door, unpropping the door and opening it. I caught a very passive aggressive no goodbye? and I bit my tongue, feeling angry once again.

Now you know what it's like, I shot back, walking out and putting up the mental walls between us.