Chapter 7 - Kenzie

I didn't want to hear any of his excuses. In pain? Yeah, buddy, that's my entire existence. Especially right now.

My heart crashed against my ribcage, and as much as it infuriated me to admit it, I'd been downright terrified that Grayson was going to die in the fucking maze. Stupid mate bond .

"That's nice, Grayson. But don't expect a pity party from the wolf you rejected." Despite my efforts to sound intimidating, however, my voice came out thready and strained, so I threw up my arms and began pacing. "Gods! It's hot in here. Just…ugh, your healing is done. Just put on your stupid shirt, and let's just get some rest."

Demands to touch him rang through my brain, splintering me into pieces that were jagged and stabbed into the back of my eyes. Being that close to Grayson, touching him to ensure his wounds were clean, the way that was so damn similar to the first time we…

No, stop this. Don't think like that.

Aches rippled through me, and I knew that the fucking pill I'd taken earlier must be wearing off. I needed to take another, but I didn't want Grayson to notice and ask about it. Sure, there was nothing illegal or illicit about what I was doing to help myself. These remedies had been used by rejected mates before, but I didn't want him to know how much it hurt me.

It was my cross to bear, and I wouldn't be accepting any sympathy from the asshole who caused it.

Worse, the rejection was swirling with the natural call to be with him. Grayson had ignited that mate bond again because of that damn revealing ceremony, and fighting against desire and rejection was taking every ounce of strength I had. I was exhausted .

And cold and hungry and too hot and itchy from head to toe.

My body was a minefield of random symptoms at this point, and I couldn't handle this. I needed a break.

Grayson narrowed his eyes on me, and I did my utter best to school my expression, hiding the pain I felt behind a mask of annoyance.

Jeez, why is he just staring like that? Go away, pest. You might not feel like you're falling apart at the seams, but I do. I don't need to watch you handle this all in stride .

"Are you—"

"I swear to hell and back if you ask me if I'm all right, I'm going to murder you."

He froze in his attempted step forward, his arms still at his sides, where he clenched his hands into fists.

My knees felt wobbly, and I wanted to get into the bed and just get comfortable. Standing was taking way too much effort, and curling up into a mound of blankets seemed like the best course of action.

"MacKenzie," Grayson's voice pulled me out of my head, and I both wanted to smack him for it and kiss his stupid face, "I'm trying…never mind. Have you eaten since the trials? You look like you're seconds from passing out."

Confirmation that I looked as awful as I felt did not make me feel better. Maybe I did need to eat, but Grayson could go suck an egg for all his "thoughtful" questioning. I knew he just needed to keep up appearances.

"Don't pander to me with your fake concern. I'm fine. You know, except for the rejection burns I deal with on the regular, but who cares, right? You don't have to deal with them."

Grayson looked like I'd punched him in the gut, and my wolf whined, upset that I was being so cruel to our "mate." She could also go suck an egg.

A dull ache threaded through my stomach, and I had a feeling that hunger was probably right on the money as far as guesses went. I hung my head, closing my eyes briefly as I tried to suck in fresh air.

"I'm just trying to help, MacKenzie."

Flicking my stare up to his face, I glared, a low growl rumbling in my chest. "If you really want to help, why don't you get that food, huh? I need some alone time."

He returned my glare, his jaw working as he chewed on his tongue. But after a moment, Grayson walked over toward the bag he brought and reached inside for a clean shirt. That's right. Go on, buddy.

As he rifled around, I walked over to the bed. I still wanted to just lay down in the covers and bury my head until tomorrow came. Another needle of pain jabbed through my lower belly, the sensation only slightly dulled by the lingering herbs in my system. The rejection pain was returning, and I needed Grayson out of this room so that I could take more medicine.

Right at the side of the bed, my foot hit something soft, and I looked down to see Grayson's shirt still lying there where I'd dropped it. It was so dirty, covered in a large red stain from his blood. It also smelled so strongly of his scent that my head went all fuzzy at the edges.

Before my Gran passed away, she baked cookies for the winter. We'd go out and eat them on the little front porch of our trailer, watching the snowflakes gracefully fall to the ground.

That's what Grayson smelled like—spiced cookies and frost.

Crawling into the bed, I pulled the covers over me, but it wasn't right. They were all messed up from the last time I'd slept in them and from Grayson's stupid butt sitting on them. I yanked them up and off the bed, flapping them up in the air so that I could lie them flat across the mattress.

But that wasn't right either. I was still so overheated from the damn rejection nonsense, so I bundled the covers up with the sheets and made a ring around me that I could hang one leg out of while squeezing the rest to my chest. That was better.

That smell of cloves and snow was still so thick in the air around me, and I buried my face into the pillow. It didn't do anything to dull the scent, but at least it was a pleasant smell.

Another kick of pain knocked me in the lower belly, and I gripped around the covers. My skin felt so damn itchy and hot, and I needed Grayson to leave so that I could take my fucking drugs.

You don't. Don't let him leave.

I rolled my eyes at my wolf's thoughts. Quiet, you. It'll be fine once I can take more stuff.

My hips ached as I lay on my side, and I needed to switch positions. But then my core brushed against the covers bundled between my legs, and I let out a low hiss. The sensation was so fucking intense, or more aptly, I was so damn sensitive.

That's weird. That's not usually—

"What are you doing with my old shirt?"

I looked up toward Grayson. He was fully dressed now, but the thin tee he wore did little to hide his chiseled chest and abs. You could wash your fucking clothes on them. My eyes traveled up toward his face, and I realized he was mouthing something.

"Earth to MacKenzie? Do you even hear me?"

The words came back in a flood and I was suddenly hearing things again. Apparently, I'd zone out enough to not even hear Grayson speak.

"I'm sorry. What?" I shook my head, frowning at him.

"MacKenzie, what's going on? Your scent is going haywire, and you're clinging to my bloody shirt."

Scoffing, I sat back, putting space in between us. What a load of crock. "I'm trying to get some rest. Weren't you supposed to get me food? And hell, water. I'm so thirsty."

But then, as I faced away from him, I realized that I was holding onto his shirt. I'd yet to let go of it when I snagged it off the floor. My heart thudded in my chest, and I dropped my stare to the bed. The ring of sheets I'd created looked very fucking inviting, but I wanted my clothes off. It was too damn hot in here.

Another pain rippled through my entire body this time, and it went straight through the barrier the natural painkillers I was using created. It racked me from top to bottom, a dagger point piecing my head as the same sharp sensation flowed from my center down each leg.

God, this is so much worse than normal.

"Hey," Grayson was right by me now, his hands up like he was approaching a wounded animal, "MacKenzie, I think you're—"

"Go away!" My tone came out harsher than I'd intended, but before I could apologize—if I even wanted to—another wave of sensation sent me curling into a ball. "I just need to eat. Go. If you still want to help."

"MacKenzie, you need to listen. I think you're—"

"Ugh!"

I doubled over the roar ripping through my body as my own scent perfumed the space around me so intensely I could taste it—salty ocean and the aged vanilla scent of old paper. Why was my scent so strong right now?

Instinctively, I started circling around in the bed, trying to get comfortable. I still clung to Grayson's shirt, but it was only because I couldn't bring myself to let go that the action would take too much effort.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Grayson step forward, raising his hip so that he could sit on the bed.

"No!"

I lashed out at him, swatting him away as a rumbling growl echoed out of my chest. Grayson cursed, scooting back until he was standing just to the side of the bed again.

Wait. That…

Another wave hit, and my eyes met Grayson's in shock, my mouth falling open slightly.

"You built a nest, MacKenzie." He shook his head, looking down at the floor before he returned his intense stare to me. "You've got my shirt. Your scent is…"

He breathed in deep, and the expression on his face was like the last time I'd seen him that worked up over it.

"So fucking strong."

I shook my head. No. No. This is impossible. It's too far away.

"I…" My voice wavered. "I don't…No. It's too soon."

But like it was trying to prove a point, another wave hit me—hot and desperate and all-consuming—and I fell to my knees. The pain was so profound, and I cried out before Grayson was there in front of me, gripping me by the elbows and trying to get me up.

"MacKenzie, I think you're…"

He let the words hang, letting me be the one to finally say it. I looked into his icy blue eyes. His blonde locks were still mussed from the fight, and his scent was flaring brighter, making the ache in my womb worse and better in equal parts.

I squeezed his arms, my eyes wide and a nauseating terror crawling up the back of my throat. It took me so long to say it; my stare locked on his as I waited for the pain to dull slightly. When I finally opened my mouth to speak, my voice was rough and thick, pained and… aroused .

"In heat."