33. Henry

My head is a mess, and it feels like my body is on fire, but not in the usual way. It's Zara. Her heat is kicking up a storm, and I'm caught smack in the middle of it.

I've called Ben but had to leave a message, so fuck knows if he is on his way back here or not yet.

I try to concentrate on my work, going over the spreadsheets, but the scent of her heat wafts through the house, thick and sweet as syrup. It's like the air itself is saturated with her need.

I pick up the softest moans that slice straight through my soul. I know she's burning up, skin probably flushed with that tell tale rosy glow of an omega in full heat.

She's trying to be quiet, but each little whimper she lets slip is a siren call to every alpha instinct I've got.

A part of me wants to storm right up there, offer whatever relief I can, this time not taking no for an answer. She has thrown me into my rut with her heat. I can help her. But another part, the sensible part, reminds me that this isn't just about biology. It's Zara, the gorgeous omega who has been throwing me off balance since the day we met.

I pace downstairs, restless, glad that Mia is still asleep. Every nerve in me is on edge, and it's all because of Zara. I can hear her upstairs, the sound of her discomfort seeping around me. It's making a mess of my concentration. She needs help – that much is clear.

Bollocks to this.

I stop pacing, running a hand through my hair. Offering myself to her isn't something I take lightly. But neither is standing by while she's up there needing someone, and I'm down here doing fuck all about it.

It's not just about easing her heat; it's about showing her I care, that I want to support her, be there for her – in whatever way she needs.

I care about her. A lot. The feelings bubbling up inside me lately are proof enough of that. They've been growing, evolving into something that feels both terrifying and brilliant.

I shuffle up the stairs and down the hallway, my mind a whirl of concern and nerve. Each step feels like I'm walking a tightrope between overstepping boundaries and offering genuine help. The scent that wafts from under Zara's door is a mix of sweet desperation and that lavender and honey scent that is uniquely hers.

Before I can make another move, Mia starts crying, and I gulp. Glancing at Zara's door, she is in no fit state to see to the baby. Ben is nowhere to be found, so it's up to me. Steeling myself, I push open the nursery door to see Mia kicking and wailing. Glancing around, I see all the bottle stuff on a table down the side of the room, along with some machine that looks like it's meant to help.

"Okay, Henry. You are a smart man. You've got this." I walk over to the table and pick up the tub of formula, reading the instructions so I know what I'm doing.

So far, so good.

Scooping out the required amount, I glare at the machine. Luckily, the instructions are tucked underneath it, probably because Ben was as clueless as I am right now. Giving it a quick read while Mia screams the house down around me, I don't let it rush me. I'm steady and set about pushing the buttons and doing what the booklet tells me to. What seems like a lot of time later, what with all the wailing for me to hurry the fuck up, I'm armed, prepared and ready for action. I scoop Mia up and sit in the big armchair next to her cot, cradling her gently as I press the bottle to her lips. She knows exactly what to do as she latches on, suckling like a fiend.

"Thank fuck!" Zara shouts from next door. "You good?"

Chuckling, I shout back, "Yeah. Are you?"

"Bit lucid. I can help if you need me."

My heart thumps a couple of times. Lucid means she got her knot. I lick my lips at the thought of her using one of those knotty dildos to ease herself.

"No," I croak, and then clear my throat. "No, we're okay. You rest."

"Change her nappy."

I stare at Mia for a second before I gulp. "Yeah, okay."

"You don't sound so sure." I can hear the giggle in her weary tone.

"I'm on it like a car bonnet," I retort and then shake my head at myself. What the fuck was that?

"Okay," she snorts. "Call me if you need me."

"No, we're good. You rest."

She goes quiet, and I know it's because while the dildo will give her a bit of relief, it's not enough. Her body knows the difference.

I quickly finish feeding Mia, burping her like a pro—or at least, that's how I'm trying to come off. She gives a few contented sighs, and I feel like the king of the world for a moment. But then reality hits. It's nappy-changing time. I lay Mia down on the changing table and gather my wits. "Right, Henry, let's get this over with," I mutter.

With a surprising amount of grace – considering I'm an alpha who has never done this before - I manage the whole process without much fuss. I see how the wet one comes off, and it's plain how the fresh one goes on.

"Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. Just glad it was a number one," I coo to her, feeling like an idiot.

However, Mia is clean and happy, so my work here is done. For now. Laying her back down in her cot, she looks up at me as if I'm her personal hero before her eyes close and she's asleep.

That's when it hits me again; Zara's need is like a heavy weight in my chest—heavier now that my focus is no longer on tending to the baby.

I step out of the nursery, pause in the hallway, and take a deep breath. Zara's scent is overwhelming. It seeps under the door like an invitation or a challenge. A part of me wants to kick down that door and take care of her needs as only an alpha could.

But that's a gross violation. She is in no fit state to accept my help without it falling under dubious circumstances. If she asks, that's one thing; if I offer again now, that's a whole other bag I'm not willing to open.

Luckily, I'm saved from the torment as I hear a car pull up outside, and I make my way back downstairs, glad I'm not alone in the house anymore with an omega in heat and a baby who is going to need more care than I'm capable of at some point.