Every omega is warned.
When the heat comes, you don't run.
You hide. You lock the door. You take the suppressant drops. You let the pack elders watch you like a child until the fever passes.
However, nobody warned me that it would feel this way.
Corseted, prim, the epitome of grandeur, I was sitting in the library of the Veyne estate when it happened. A fierce, ravenous heat that pierced my spine like lightning. The book I was reading fell out of my hands as I gasped. My thighs were suddenly slick. My lips parted. I couldn't breathe.
"Seren?" my tutor asked, confused.
I didn't respond.
Because the scent—the craving—was already rising in my throat like smoke.
Alpha… I need…
I bolted.
The halls were endless and echoing. My father's guards shouted as I flew past. One reached for my arm, but I gave him a piercing, savage snarl, and he staggered back as though he had been burned.
With my skirts up high and my bare feet bleeding on the gravel, I ran through the gardens. I didn't give a damn.
Not from danger.
But from whatever part of me was begging to be taken.
Like a secret lover, the forest embraced me. The smell of the dirt blended with the hot, rolling waves of my own pheromones as soon as I entered the tree shadows. I was breathing heavily.
Clothes clung to me. My nipples ached, hard as stones. My womb—gods, my womb throbbed like it had teeth.
I was burning from the inside out.
Then I felt it.
A shift in the wind.
Another scent.
Alpha.
Not just any Alpha.
Something ancient. Savage. Like firewood and blood and control.
I froze.
I turned cautiously as a rumbling growl reverberated through the trees.
He emerged from the shadows as if he were a part of them.
Broad shoulders, bare chest, a body cut like a weapon. Eyes cold as iron. Black hair, tousled. Bare feet on the dirt like a beast untethered.
He looked at me like I was meat.
I couldn't move. Couldn't speak.
Then he smiled.
Not soft. Not kind.
Possessive.
Hungry.
"You're early," he murmured. "But I'll take you anyway."
"W–who are you?" I managed to whisper.
He didn't answer.
He just took one step forward—and I fell to my knees.
My body offered itself without my permission.
I hated it.
I wanted it.
"Alpha…" I whispered, shaking.
He crouched in front of me and inhaled deeply. His eyes fluttered half-closed. "Fuck," he growled, voice low and wrecked. "You smell like ruin."
"No," I breathed.
"Yes."
He grabbed my jaw. Rough. Possessive. He tilted my head to the side and ran his tongue along the space just beneath my ear.
I shuddered violently.
"You're Seren," he said. "The Veyne brat. You smell like legacy. Like shame. Like something that needs to be claimed."
His hand slipped beneath my torn bodice. His thumb grazed my breast.
"No," I said again.
But I was moaning.
He laughed darkly. "Your body's saying yes."
Then everything went black.