Chapter Twenty-Six – Heat
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Heat
J o, Shane, and Jay all freeze.
It’s strange we didn’t realize it sooner. It’s been almost four months since we bit her. Her heat isn’t just close, it’s late.
“The need to be with you all the time… the rage when you’re not home… the nest feeling all wrong… it all makes sense now,” she whispers.
The urge to check on her crashes over me again, but this time, I know what I’m looking for. I press my palms to her arms, then slide them down to her thighs.
Her skin’s warm, not hot. Good.
“Your temperature feels normal,” I say quietly. “So we’ve got time to prepare.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, Jay and Shane move, touching her too. Relief spreads across their faces now that they understand why they’ve been doing it.
We weren’t acting crazy; we were reading her. It’s instinct, deep and old. It’s how aegis track the changes on the nyra’s body. The moment her temperature rises, we’ll know she’s entering full heat.
They exhale, tension slipping from their shoulders like something just clicked. They both look at me, relieved, but already slipping into panic.
“What do we do?” Shane asks.
A wave of panic rises in me too. All I’ve got are flashes of memories of my fathers getting ready for Lydia’s or my mother’s heats. One of the first things they always did was send us kids to our grandparents’, so I don’t remember that much. I try to piece together everything I can.
“My fathers used to buy a ton of Lemon-Lime Gatorade,” I say. “And granola bars. Like… whole boxes.”
Jo nods, her expression serious now. Her eyes are wide, with a flicker of fear beneath the surface. It’s a first time for all of us.
“Yes,” she says. “Everything I’ve read says the most important thing during heat is staying hydrated and keeping blood sugar stable.”
My brothers and I head back to the truck and do a full loop around Milstone, gathering supplies.
We end up with bags full of Pedialyte Sport, protein bars, and chocolate.
Before we check out at the last store, I remember that talk with Jo about birth control, so I grab one of those huge bulk boxes of condoms too.
The cashier pauses when he sees it, eyes flicking from each of us to the box. “ Big plans tonight, huh?” he says, and I swear there’s a hint of jealousy in his awed expression.
Jay tries to keep a straight face, but Shane almost drops the chocolate laughing. I just swipe the card and pretend nothing’s happening.
When we get home, Jo’s already on the phone talking to someone from the hospital.
“Dr. Lindstrom isn’t happy,” she says, sighing as she sets the phone on the table. “I had to explain why I need more time off right after just getting back, and he went speechless for an entire minute when I said the word heat .”
That reminds me that I need to make our own arrangements at work.
I call the Solomons first. The reaction is completely different from Jo’s human supervisor. The second I say our mate is going into heat, Josh is all over it.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “Take care of your nyra. I’ll formally place your pack on a week of heat leave. DEA will be notified.”
I hang up and glance at Jo. She already seems calmer.
I don’t know if it’s the clarity of what’s happening, or the comfort of seeing us get everything ready for her heat, but her mood’s lighter, more like herself.
Still, she fusses around the nest on and off all day, rearranging pillows and blankets, only to move everything again ten minutes later.
By nightfall, she finally looks satisfied.
A nest is just a wide mattress over a wooden platform, so it usually resembles a human bed, only much bigger.
Jo likes to cover it with soft sheets and stack a few pillows at the head.
It never really looked like a nest, not in the way the word implies.
I never questioned why it was even called that until now. This is different.
She’s arranged pillows and blankets around the edges, building soft walls with a deep center. When she curls up in the middle, she’s almost invisible. It looks exactly like a nest now.
We press in around her, tight and close, the nest pulling us into a ball of warmth. I don’t sleep much, just light dozing, waking over and over to check on her. But at some point, I must have gone under deeper, because the next thing I feel is Jay shaking me.
I jolt awake, Shane stirring beside me.
“She’s running hot,” Jay says.
Jo’s still asleep. I press my hand to her forehead, and Jay’s right; she’s burning up.
We debate whether to wake her, but we don’t really know how this works, so we let her sleep, trusting her body to wake her if it needs to.
I’ve never resented not having my fathers around. After they gave up on finding my mother, I hated being near them, watching them with Lydia, like they’d forgotten my mother ever existed .
Watching them raise their sons with her to form a pack, while I was condemned to be a solitary aegis, would’ve been worse than anything I went through in the Strays Program. And not having Jay and Shane is just unthinkable. They’re part of me.
So, in the end, I’m grateful my fathers gave me up.
But right now, this is the first time I feel their absence like a weight in my chest. They would’ve explained everything. Taught me how aegis care for their nyra during heat. I have no idea what I’m doing.
I try to sleep again, but it’s no use. I lie there, staring at the ceiling, counting my own heartbeats. When the sky outside the window starts to lighten, that first faint glow of sunrise creeping in, Jo’s scent goes wild.
A wave of spice rolls over me, so potent it knocks the air from my lungs. It’s blinding. A rut fog slams into me out of nowhere, and I have to fight it with everything I’ve got just to keep my mind clear. Everything I’ve ever felt or thought about desire suddenly feels distant and weak.
This is insane.
My cock’s throbbing, leaking through my shorts.
I’m trembling, hands twitching, the urge to touch her, take her, scraping at the inside of my skin.
I swallow hard. Her scent fills my nose, my throat.
It burns. A hum starts deep in my chest, but this time it’s different.
It’s deeper, resonating through my bones, louder than it’s ever been.
When I reach out to check her again, heat radiates off her skin. She’s on fire.
Shane and Jay are up in an instant. I didn’t wake them; her scent did.
They’re already humming too, loud and raw, the sound tearing straight from their chests. We sit around her in the nest, all three of us shaking. Fighting it. Holding back. Waiting for her to wake up.
Jo shifts in her sleep. Just a small motion at first, her shoulder twitching beneath the blanket, one knee pulling up. Then a low sound, not quite a whimper, rises from her chest.
We freeze. Jay’s fists curl, and Shane swallows hard. My pulse slams against my throat, and for a second, I can’t breathe. The last time I felt like my body was rebelling against my mind like this, it was the day we met her. I clench my jaw and lock every muscle to keep still.
It must be a dream, though, because she’s still asleep.
Shane shifts beside me, breathing unevenly. His jaw’s clenched so tight I can see the muscle twitching in his cheek. “I’m gonna… walk it off,” he mutters, voice raw like he’s been holding back a scream.
I nod. Jay doesn’t even look up, just says, flat, “Track if you have to.”
But Shane doesn’t move. He’s glued to the nest, torn between getting out and staying near her. He meets my eyes, and I can see how much it costs him to breathe.
“Jay and I will stay with her,” I say. “Do what you gotta do. ”
He’s gone in seconds, holding his breath and pulling on his clothes like he can’t get them on fast enough.
I get it. I never thought it could be this hard not to lose control. All those women who were afraid of us, who looked at us like we could snap any second, like we were mindless animals driven by lust, I always thought they were ignorant. Victims of stupid rumors.
And the others, the ones we slept with, who were disappointed when they realized we were in control the whole time. Who wanted us to lose it and go feral. I thought they were just chasing a fantasy, wanting a thrill.
But right now, I feel exactly like the aegis they all imagined.
I hear Shane’s boots hit the street outside. He’s running.
Jay shifts suddenly, rising from the center of the nest and stumbling back, careful not to brush her. He passes the wall of pillows she built, and sits on the floor, cross-legged, fists to his knees, breathing deep through his nose. He’s not doing well either.
“You okay?” I ask, voice tight.
“No,” he replies. “But I’m managing.”
I nod, eyes back on Jo.
She shifts again. And her scent — fuck, her scent — spikes so hard it feels like it cuts through my skin.
My whole body jolts. I bite down on the inside of my cheek until I taste blood.
I can’t stay this close anymore. I get up, cross the room to the closet, and press my palms against the door.
The wood is cool against my skin. I close my eyes, trying to breathe through it.
Jay stands too. “I’m going for a shower,” he mutters, already halfway to the door.
Now it’s just me and her in the room, and it’s even harder to fight my body.
After a while, Shane comes back. He doesn’t approach the nest, just stands near the door, muscles locked.
The second Jay steps into the room, towel wrapped around his waist, Shane walks past him, straight to the bathroom.
I can’t take it anymore. I nod at Jay and head downstairs. I sit on the couch and try to breathe, counting seconds between trembles, waiting for the shakes to ease. When the sound of the shower cuts off, I take the stairs. My turn for a cold shower.
When I return to our room, Jo’s moving again.