Chapter Thirty-Five

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Now Playing: Resentment- A Day to Remember

I’m starving, tired, and want to be in my nest. We’ve spent the majority of the day in the studio where the guys have been practicing their new songs. I shift on my chair for the hundredth time in a few minutes before giving in to my instincts.

The guys wave me off, promising to be up in a bit. I leave them to their work and head upstairs to find a snack.

Wandering to the third floor, my nose calls me into the closet. The pile of dirty laundry smells like heaven. I need this shirt for my nest. And these sweats. A pair of Nexus’ lacy boxers? These are mine now too.

Picking out a few other pieces, I shove my snacks in my hoodie pocket and haul them all into the nest. Rearranging all of the blankets with my new additions woven in helps settle the antsy feeling in my chest.

It’s only as I’m scarfing down my second granola bar I realize what is happening. I’m nesting and irritable. “Shit,” I whisper. Pulling up the calendar on my phone, I curse again. My heat is supposed to start soon. I’d hoped the suppressants I was using would push it off, but apparently not.

Physically, I feel better than I did two weeks ago. But is that enough? What if the damage done to my body by the chemical rejection is too much for me to handle a heat? I can’t answer these questions myself, so I take a deep breath and dial Doctor Russell’s office. The nurse tells me she is with another patient and will call me back.

Several of my snacks are devoured before the phone rings. I answer quickly, gripping the device a little too tightly.

“Good afternoon, Omen. How are you feeling?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m in pre-heat.” I rush out the words, trying not to panic. One step at a time, slow and steady is how you face difficult situations.

“Okay, and you have concerns about experiencing a heat?” She asks politely.

“Is it even safe for me to have a full heat? What if my body can’t take the extra toll?”

“Deep breaths. You have a bond–”

“Three bonds.”

“Even better! You have multiple bonds to help stabilize you through the heat. As long as you don’t go too long without being knotted the first time, I see no reason to be concerned about a proper heat.” I can hear her mouse clicking on the other end of the line. My phone dings a few seconds later with an email. “I’ve sent you the paperwork your pack will need to submit to their label for the time off to help you through the heat.”

“Can’t I take suppressants? Delay it for a few more weeks?” I beg. I’m not ready for a heat. Not after the last time I went through one…

Time is irrelevant when my entire world devolves to nothing more than the searing heat flowing through my veins and the emptiness slowly seeping into my very soul. After my sister had been married off, her bedroom emptied in mere hours, I thought I’d known loneliness. Yet the broken consuming loneliness I feel between waves of this heat are almost debilitating in their intensity.

While I recognize that the severity of my growing depression is a result of compounding trauma and not specifically my current isolation, it isn’t easy to think rationally when I’m so wrung out I can barely move.

I’m not sure how long I have been confined to the hotel nest. Based on the rancid smell of stale sweat and slick that permeates every molecule in the tiny space it has to have been at least a week. The thought nearly sends me into another depressive spiral.

Seven days of pain and longing.

Seven days of solitude.

They aren’t coming. There isn’t some romantic rescue waiting on the other side of these nest doors. My future is filled with promises of more lonely heats, not mates to care for me.

“You’re scared, and that’s a completely normal response after all you’ve been through.”

Doctor Russell’s voice pulls me from the memories of my last heat. I try to shake off the dejected train of thought remembering that hell has stirred up.

“Why don’t you give your therapist a call? Maybe fit in an emergency session to discuss this?” she suggests. “I can tell you with certainty, taking suppressants to delay this heat would be inadvisable. It could throw off your entire system causing an increase in both severity and duration, as well as unpredictability. Your heats could come more frequently or they could not come at all, neither of which is good for your body.”

“Okay,” I sigh. She gives me a list of signs to watch for during the heat, and an emergency contact number in case anything goes wrong.

Hanging up with her, I send my therapist a message. Luckily, he is able to fit me in for a tele-visit in an hour. After soaking in a hot bath, I feel a little more stable as I connect to the video call with Mr. Bartlett.

“Good afternoon, Omen. Tell me what’s going on.”

I jump right into everything. Explaining about my pre-heat symptoms and upcoming heat, Doctor Russell’s advice, and my fear of going through a full heat. When he asks about my fear, I tell him about being drugged outside of the guy’s show in Boston and the hellacious nine-day heat I suffered through after.

“Are you worried about experiencing an extended heat, or being abandoned afterward by your mates?”

“Both?” I chew my lip as I answer. When he raises one eyebrow and narrows a hard look my way, I sigh. “The last part. I know if the heat goes on for too long Doctor Russell will find a way to stop it.”

“Mhmm, and is there anything you can think of that would alleviate your fear? Steps you can take?”

“Not having a heat at all?” I joke, but it falls flat. “I know you want me to talk to the guys. To explain my fear to them so they know what I need from them during the heat. But what if they don’t want to be here for it?”

“You’ve bonded with two of them, correct? Nebula, and…” He glances at his notes. “Nexus?”

“Titan too, so three of them.”

“Doctor Russell could corroborate this as well, but an alpha walking away from their bonded omega when they are in heat is physically impossible. Every instinct in their bodies will narrow their focus to meeting your needs. Smelling your heat perfume may even trigger their ruts.”

“Okay, but what if they do find a way to walk away?” Tears burn in my eyes at the thought of going through my heat without all four men at my side.

“You’re thinking of Nebula in particular?” He thinks for a moment, studying me. “The best thing you can do is be honest with them. With Nebula specifically. If they don’t know these are things you fear, how can they take steps to alleviate them?”

After finishing the emergency session, I flop back onto the bed and stare up at the halo of twinkling lights above the bed. I don’t know what is scarier: them not helping me through the heat or admitting my fears.

The door creaks open sometime later, interrupting my fretting. Spicy pink pepper and leather mix with my withering floral scent. “What’s wrong, firefly?” Titan asks as he climbs in beside me.

I bury my face in his chest, letting his large arms wrap around me and hold me tight. If I soak in a little of his strength, maybe revealing my fears won’t seem like such an imposing obstacle.

“I’m in pre-heat.” I finally tell him, muffling the words in his shirt.

His hand running through my hair freezes for several seconds before he uses his grip to pull me back far enough for him to see my face. Hunger burns in his obsidian eyes as they run over every exposed inch of my skin. “Mmmm, darlin’, a whole week of you ridin’ my knot? Sounds like my kind of adventure.”

A small part of my panic fades, but it’s a drop in the bucket in comparison to the ocean of fear still slithering protectively around my heart.

“Do you want us here to help you through it?”

“I do…” I hedge, trying to bury into his chest again.

“But?” Titan sees right through my attempt to hide, forcing me to hold his gaze. Sensing my emotions through our bond, his face falls a bit. “You’re afraid we will leave you to face it alone.”

“Or after. Last time–”

“Will never be repeated.”

I startle at Nebula’s firm voice. I hadn’t realized he was in here too.

“Every one of us would jump at the opportunity to take care of you during this heat. If you want us there. The choice will always lie in your hands.” He kneels on the edge of the bed, narrowing his eyes on me. “You're ours, Little Omega. Today, tomorrow, always. If we go anywhere, you’ll be right there with us.”

“He’s right, firefly. You’re stuck with us now,” Titan jumps in. His fingers brush over his bond mark on my neck, reminding me how permanent my place in their pack is.

“I promise you we will be here for every minute of your heat, and every day after,” Nebula swears.

“Okay.” I blow out a breath, resting my cheek on Titan’s chest so I can see Nebula too. “I want us all here. As a pack.”

“Then that is exactly where we will be, babygirl.”

Pain rips through my abdomen at the same moment slick soaks my thighs, leaking down to puddle on the bed beneath me. I can feel the haze starting to fog my thoughts.

My heat is here.

Stumbling from the pile of blankets and stolen clothes in my nest takes significant effort with the horrible cramps. They don’t usually come on this quickly, but given everything my body has been through over the past half a year it makes sense this heat might be as fucked up as the rest of my life.

I open the door to the pack bedroom, hoping to find one of my mates to ease the need flowing through my veins like lava. No one is in sight. Leaning against the bed to fight through another cramp, I glance to the side to see both the bathroom and closet doors open. The rooms beyond dark and empty.

A sinking feeling starts to spark in my heart, a gnawing sense of panic that slowly builds as I head downstairs to find the kitchen and living room vacant as well.

Where are my mates?

Closing my eyes, I block out the waves of pain and insistent desire long enough to see the spot in my heart where my bonds sit. The threads are there, but they’re stretched taut, the emotions from their side muted. My eyes fly open, a frown marring my face. Weird, but not unheard of. If they’re practicing and I’m not with them, they usually mute the bond so they can focus.

Running with that train of thought, I slowly work my way down the stairs. I pass room after darkened room until I reach their in-home studio. Hope swells in my heart when I see the closed door, but it shatters when I inch it open to find yet another unoccupied space.

“Guys?” My shout echoes back to me, unanswered.

Maybe they are out on the patio? Or at the beach?

The pain is so strong now I have to crawl up the stairs. Tears stream down my cheeks and blood coats my mouth from where I’ve bitten my cheek trying to ride out one of the waves. I collapse on the top step, curling in on myself and trying to force my pain and need down the bond I share with three of my mates.

The back door is too far away, but I spy a marker on the coffee table a few feet away. I can make it there, I think.

Grabbing the marker, I flop back to the floor. Panting and dazed and so fucking scared it’s taking every ounce of strength I have to not fall apart. The ink presses to my skin, my intent making the words tingle as I send them to all four men.

‘My heat is starting. Please come back to the house.’

Consciousness slips in and out as the ache of this heat wave surges through my exhausted body. I need a knot. Why aren’t my mates here? Why aren’t they answering? Panic crawls through my mind, twisting my every thought.

“Nexus! Titan! Nebula! Callisto! Please!” I scream their names over and over until my voice is hoarse.

No one comes. The house is silent. Dread spreads like poison carried through every cell of my being. It slowly infects me, weighing my limbs down with the weight of my own suspicions.

“No,” I growl. “They wouldn’t leave me. They promised.”

My hand slaps on the top of the table as I force myself to stand, sending a remote sliding across the floor. I must have hit it just right because the television comes to life. A live stream is playing from another one of the label’s charity concerts for my father’s victims.

The familiar notes of a song through the speakers have my heart stalling in my chest. My eyes fly to the screen, confirming I’m not experiencing an auditory hallucination. There, on a stage states away from our home, is my pack. Performing at a show I wasn’t even informed they would be playing.

My arms collapse from under me, sending me sprawling back to the cold hardwood floors. “No,” I plead, curling in on myself to try to brace against the agony. “Please, no. Don’t make me face this again.”

I sob, begging repeatedly for my mates, but I’m alone. Always alone.

I jerk upright, sniffling back tears. My eyes immediately travel over every inch of the room, but it’s empty. Phantom pain pulses through my stomach and I snap.

They left me. Again. Even the bonds between us aren’t enough to make them stay.

Anger takes over, making my limbs shake. I push to my knees and start to rip their clothes from my nest. I toss them into a pile in the corner of the room, wanting to rid myself of their scents. Why does everything in this fucking nest smell like them?!

Their scent doesn’t fade, so I kick all the blankets off next. Even going so far as to rip the sheet from the mattress.

When their combined scent isn’t as overwhelming, I curl into the middle of the bed and let the sadness rush back in.