Chapter 17
Gia
Cooking usually calmed me down.
Usually.
The rhythmic chop of garlic.
The scent of olive oil warming in the pan.
Fresh herbs.
Simmering tomatoes.
All of it normally settled my magic and soothed the anxious parts of my brain.
Tonight?
Nothing was helping.
Not the spaghetti Puttanesca that was bubbling on the stove.
Not the breaded chicken cutlets crisping golden in oil.
Not even the salad I’d meticulously assembled like a woman pretending she wasn’t slowly losing her damn mind.
Everything felt wrong.
Too hot.
Too tight.
Too sharp.
I leaned heavily against the kitchen counter and pressed my hand to my stomach again as another cramp rolled through me.
“Ow. What the hell?”
It wasn’t exactly painful.
Not fully.
More like pressure.
Heat.
A strange, pulsing ache low in my belly that kept building and easing and building again.
And Goddess.
More heat.
My skin felt feverish.
Sensitive.
Every brush of fabric against my body irritated me.
I’d already changed clothes twice because everything suddenly felt suffocating.
I was wearing a thin strap tank top and the boxers I usually slept in.
Even the cabin itself felt too warm despite the cool mountain air drifting through the open windows.
If this was my period, Mother Nature was being weird about it.
I’d checked in the bathroom earlier—and nope—no spotting or anything.
Nothing.
So apparently this was not my period.
Which honestly made this whole thing even weirder.
I pushed away from the counter and headed for the bathroom again.
Still nothing.
Just flushed skin and blown pupils staring back at me in the mirror.
And my eyes—oh wow—my magic glimmered faintly beneath them like green fire flickering under glass.
“What is happening to me?” I whispered.
The bond pulsed suddenly beneath my skin.
Warm.
Hungry.
Need rose immediately behind it so intensely my knees almost weakened.
Wreck.
I needed Wreck.
The realization hit hard enough to steal my breath.
Not emotionally.
Physically.
My body ached for him.
For his scent.
His hands.
The weight of him wrapped around me.
His knot.
“Oh shit.”
The phone rang before I could spiral further.
I lunged for it instantly.
Wreck.
Relief crashed through me so fast I almost moaned.
“Hello?”
Static crackled through the line immediately.
“Honey? Honey, can you hear me?”
His deep voice rumbled through the speaker rough and distorted.
“Yes! Wreck?”
More static.
Then voices in the background.
Women laughing.
My stomach tightened sharply.
“We just finished the trees,” he said, breaking up badly. “Had to give a ride—”
The line crackled again.
“—car broke down—”
A woman laughed somewhere near him.
Heat flared violently beneath my skin.
“We’ll head back up the mountain soon—”
“What women?” I snapped before I could stop myself.
“Honey? Signal’s bad, I can’t—”
Another female voice drifted through the speaker.
Then the line cut completely dead.
Silence filled the cabin.
I stared at the phone.
My pulse thundered instantly.
No.
No no no.
My stomach cramped viciously again.
The heat beneath my skin surged harder.
He was with women.
After last night.
After everything.
The bond pulsed sharply in protest.
Mine.
But now it felt tangled with anger and hurt, and humiliation.
I paced the kitchen restlessly while irrational thoughts spiraled faster and faster.
Maybe that woman, Stephanie, was right.
Maybe this was all instinct and heat and novelty.
Maybe Wreck did this all the time.
Maybe—another cramp doubled me over briefly.
“Oh Goddess, please!”
My magic flickered wildly around the cabin.
The lights dimmed.
Plants on the windowsill stretched suddenly toward the ceiling.
A spoon bent itself in half on the counter.
Okay.
Definitely not normal.
The minutes crawled by after that.
The storm had finally eased up outside, leaving the mountain wrapped in damp fog and dripping pine branches while tension coiled tighter and tighter beneath my skin.
By the time headlights finally appeared outside the cabin, I was vibrating with frustration and heat and hurt feelings I knew were probably irrational.
Didn’t matter.
I was still furious.
The front door opened a minute later.
And there he was.
Rain-soaked.
Huge.
Still dressed in his work clothes with damp hair curling against his forehead.
And smelling faintly—my entire body went rigid—of perfume.
Familiar perfume.
Like Stephanie’s.
Rage exploded through me instantly.
“What the actual hell?”
Wreck blinked once at my tone.
“Honey?”
“Why do you smell like her? Like that woman?”
His expression shifted immediately from exhaustion to confusion.
“What?”
“That woman,” I snapped, magic crackling visibly beneath my skin now. “Stephanie!”
Understanding flashed across his face.
Then concern.
Not guilt.
Concern.
Which somehow only made me angrier.
“Gia, we had to give some people a ride. A few girls were with them. Their car broke down after the storm, but I came straight here—”
“You came here for what?” I interrupted sharply. “For dinner?”
The heat inside me kept building.
Burning.
Everything hurt.
My skin.
My stomach.
Even my thoughts felt too sharp.
“Gia—”
“Fine,” I said too sweetly. “Sit.”
Wreck hesitated.
The Bear inside him clearly sensed something was wrong because his nostrils flared sharply while his eyes tracked every tiny movement I made.
Still, he sat carefully at the small kitchen table.
I grabbed the plate of pasta and chicken cutlets with shaking hands.
Then marched over and dumped the entire thing directly into his lap.
Sauce.
Pasta.
Chicken.
All of it.
Everywhere.
Wreck jerked backward with a startled curse.
“There’s your dinner,” I snapped furiously. “Now get out!”
Silence.
Heavy.
Dangerous.
The plants around the cabin trembled violently with my magic.
Wreck stared at me.
Not angry.
Alarmed.
“Gia,” he said carefully.
Another cramp hit.
Harder this time.
Pain lanced low through my body while heat exploded beneath my skin so intensely my vision blurred around the edges.
My knees buckled without warning, and I stumbled, reaching blindly for the ruined kitchen table still covered in overturned pasta and sauce.
“Shit—”
“Honey!”
Wreck moved instantly.
One second he stood frozen.
The next he was there behind me, huge and warm and solid, catching me before I could hit the floor.
I tried to pull away.
Couldn’t.
His massive arms locked around me immediately, hauling me tight against his chest while the entire cabin seemed to pulse with restless energy.
“Easy,” he growled roughly.
The sound vibrated through my spine.
I could feel him breathing against the back of my neck now.
Fast.
Uneven.
Like he was losing some brutal internal battle by the second.
Then suddenly—stillness.
Wreck inhaled sharply against my skin—his warm breath and lips nuzzling my flesh.
The entire cabin went dead silent.
Even the wind outside seemed to stop.
“Oh, fuck, Honey.”
The words came out low and wrecked followed immediately by a deep rumbling growl that absolutely did not sound human.
His Bear.
The realization flashed through me just as his grip tightened possessively around my waist.
“Gia,” he rasped, voice shredded raw already. “I think you’re in heat.”
My brain completely short-circuited.
“What?” I twisted slightly in his hold to stare at him. “That’s ridiculous.”
But even as I said it, another wave of heat rolled through me.
Need clawed low in my belly so violently I gasped.
The Bear surged visibly beneath Wreck’s skin.
I felt it in the way his chest rumbled against my back.
In the way his scent suddenly flooded the air, heavier and darker than before.
Smoke.
Pine.
Male hunger.
And underneath it all—I heard him.
Mine.
The word slammed through my mind so clearly I actually froze.
Need.
Claim.
Mate.
I wasn’t even sure he’d spoken aloud.
“Honey,” he growled shakily against my throat, “easy.”
Then I felt it.
The hard length of him pressing against my backside.
And judging by the tortured sound Wreck made immediately afterward?
That definitely hadn’t been intentional.
“I can’t help it, Honey,” he groaned. “Your scent… fuck… it’s driving me wild. I want you so badly. Need you, Mate.”
The words sent another pulse of heat straight through me.
Confusion and hurt tangled viciously with need, until I could barely think straight.
“N-no,” I stammered, gripping his forearms while another cramp twisted through me hard enough to make me moan helplessly. “You were with her while I was here cooking for you and I…” My voice cracked embarrassingly. “I feel so stupid.”
Wreck actually snarled.
Not at me.
At the idea itself.
“Gia, I fucking swear to you I wasn’t with her.”
His mouth pressed desperately against the side of my neck while he spoke like he physically needed my scent to survive.
“I was with the crew, and we gave some people a ride. That’s all. It wasn’t Stephanie.”
“But you smelled like—”
“Maybe someone had the same perfume,” he interrupted roughly. “I don’t fucking know. But I didn’t touch anyone. I swear it.”
His grip tightened almost painfully around my waist.
“I never would, Honey. No one but you.”
Something in his voice cracked open the last of my resistance.
Raw honesty.
Desperation.
Like the thought of me believing otherwise genuinely wounded him.
And Goddess help me, I wanted to believe him.
I was desperate to believe him.
Wreck groaned against the curve of my neck, then rolled his hips instinctively into my ass while holding me tighter.
The movement pulled a broken sound from both of us.
Moisture pooled between my legs until it soaked my shorts and dripped down my thighs.
His cock felt so good there.
Too good.
Every touch from him only made the heat worse somehow, like my body recognized him as the answer to something unbearable.
But it still wasn’t enough.
Nothing felt like enough.
I was hot.
Achy.
Frustrated.
Horny.