Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
TRISTON
M y head throbs, and my throat is dry as the desert.
I swallow convulsively, trying to ease the burn, but that only makes it worse.
My scent surrounds me, thick enough it’s overwhelming.
I carefully feel the space around me, trying to reconcile the last memories I have of Tyler’s terrifying growl and grip with the soft, dark place I am now.
A wave of need pulses through me, centering between my hips. I groan and turn my head, burying my face into the pillows surrounding me.
He’d given me a trigger shot, hadn’t he?
That would explain the growing need to be surrounded by vanilla, be held and knotted and locked.
Just the thought has my skin tightening.
I press my hips into the soft bed beneath me.
The friction is enough to have the haze receding a fraction.
I run my hand over the sheet beneath me.
It’s soft but not like the way my nest feels.
The pillows are comfortable but not quite right.
A blanket covers my feet. It’s just off enough to have my skin itching.
Why am I somewhere other than my own nest? The one I’ve spent the last two weeks building and marking until it feels safe and precious and mine . Tears burn my eyes, but I squeeze them tighter. Crying when my head is pounding will just make me more uncomfortable.
The latch of a door rings through the room, louder than a gunshot.
I can’t help but flinch, twisting into myself, pulling my knees into my chest. Another pulse of heat burns in me, scalding my skin.
I can’t help but whimper. The throbbing in my head gets faster, centering behind my eyes.
I want to claw them out, want to bury myself until the throbbing fades enough I can fall back asleep.
“Triston?” It’s a deep voice that I don’t recognize.
A desperate whine is all I manage.
A whisper of a touch skates down my neck and spine, soft enough I want to lean into it.
My scent explodes around me, drowning me.
A soft lavender mixes with it. The ball of heat burns hotter, spreading into my legs and up into my chest, stealing my breath.
The pounding in my head gets worse. In the span of a few heartbeats, it morphs, filling my ears until it feels like I’m underwater.
“Triston,” the person says again, even softer than before. “Do you know where you are?”
I shake my head, sending radiating pain into my jaw. I suck in a breath, and the hand on my neck flattens. A thumb caresses the sensitive spot beneath my ear. Clove lashes out, a siren’s call I can’t stop. The person grunts.
“You’re in a Haven,” they say. “You’ve gone into heat.”
The lavender grows stronger, blending with my own scent until it’s impossible to separate them. Despite everything, despite my desire for my vanilla, my body soothes.
Even still, all I can manage is to beg for the scent. My scent.
My voice shakes.
“V-vanilla.”
The person croons. The hand traces down my spine. The brush of the shirt against my skin makes me want to rip it off. I shake off the touch, and the croon grows deeper, louder.
“Vanilla.” This time it’s a sob.
“I know, Triston,” the person murmurs. They sound… apologetic? A cramp rolls through my stomach, and I gasp. “She’s on her way, all right? We’ve called her, and she knows you’re here. She’ll be here to help you as soon as she can.”
“N-now,” I moan. “Now.”
There’s a heavy weight beside me, and then arms are pulling me into a hard chest. My shirt rubs against my skin, and I squirm.
“You need your shirt off?”
I suck in a breath.
“Yes,” I admit.
I rest my nose in the crook of their shoulder, not opening my eyes.
I don’t want to see them, don’t want to be reminded it’s not my vanilla.
It’s not her . They croon again, low enough it vibrates through me, too.
Some of the painful cramping eases even as slick coats my thighs, soaking the pants I’m wearing.
Clove swirls around me, that edge to it growing sharper.
The Alpha breathes in slowly, their hands faltering for a moment. Then they carefully guide my shirt over my head. The crush of fabric falling to the floor has me grimacing. Their touch is just as soft as before as they trace my spine and then my shoulders. I shiver and press harder into them.
“It’s going to be okay, Triston,” they whisper. “Let me soothe the ache enough and then she’ll be here to make it go away completely.”
With a careful nod, I press my chest into theirs.
Except it’s still not right. I pull at their shirt, too, needing it off my skin.
Without a word, they pull me just far enough away that they’re able to take it off.
Then it’s my skin against theirs, their lavender scent surrounding me.
The worst of the cramps fade, and my skin no longer feels like it’s burning off.
I press my nose into their neck again and breathe deeply.
A sob catches in my throat, and they croon.
They trace my ear and jaw and then my throat, their touch no more than a whisper of sensation at any moment.
It’s enough.