Chapter 5
POV: Amara
She smirked faintly. “Why are you actually here?”
I blinked. “At training?”
“No.” She pointed the blade toward me dramatically. “Mentally.”
A laugh escaped me despite myself.
“I made a big discovery today,” I admitted after a second, blocking one of her strikes automatically. “A really big one.”
Guinevere’s brows lifted. “That sounds like a good thing.”
“It is.”
Mostly.
I stepped sideways as she lunged again, knocking her weapon aside before continuing more quietly:
“It’s just… a lot.”
Because apparently my body had chosen the exact same moment to completely lose its mind.
My heat had always been late.
Irregular.
Quiet.
And now?
Now it suddenly felt like it had arrived all at once the second I stepped inside Oak territory.
The second I met him.
Which was ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
Guinevere studied me for another moment before lowering her weapon slightly.
“Well,” she said, “if it helps, I’m also currently drowning in responsibilities.”
That pulled me from my spiraling thoughts.
“What do you mean?”
She groaned dramatically. “Beta paperwork.”
I laughed softly. “That sounds painful.”
“You have no idea.” She pointed toward a nearby stack of folders sitting beside the training benches. “Joseph keeps insisting we should reorganize reporting systems now that I’m officially involved in more command decisions.”
I tilted my head slightly. “Can I see?”
Guinevere looked immediately suspicious. “You enjoy paperwork, don’t you?”
“I enjoy efficient systems.”
“That’s somehow worse.”
Still, she handed me the folders.
And within ten minutes, I understood exactly why she was overwhelmed.
“This reporting flow makes no sense,” I muttered while flipping through patrol schedules and supply logs. “You’re repeating the same information across three separate sectors.”
Guinevere blinked. “We are?”
“You’re wasting hours on duplicated processing.”
I grabbed a pen automatically, reorganizing sections and drawing quick arrows between departments.
“If you reroute command approvals directly through patrol division first,” I explained, “you eliminate almost half the unnecessary review stages.”
Guinevere stared at the pages.
Then at me.
“…Amara.”
I barely looked up. “Also your guard rotation logs should be digitized.”
“You figured that out in five minutes.”
“It’s badly organized.”
She looked deeply offended on behalf of whoever created the system.
I grinned slightly.
An hour later, Joseph nearly lost his mind when Guinevere showed him the revisions.
“She fixed this?” he asked incredulously.
Guinevere pointed at me proudly. “Your new favorite genius did.”
Joseph looked down at the papers again. “This is going to save us so much time.”
I shrugged lightly, suddenly embarrassed by the attention again.
“It was mostly just restructuring.”
“No,” Joseph said firmly. “This is brilliant.”
The praise warmed me more than I wanted to admit.
Not because of pride exactly.
But because I felt useful here.
Needed here.
Like maybe I belonged more than I originally thought.
By the time I finally returned to my rooms later that evening, exhaustion sat heavily in my bones.
But unfortunately—
So did that heat.
The shower helped for maybe five minutes.
Then my body started burning all over again.
I dressed slowly for dinner, trying very hard not to think about why every single instinct I had seemed painfully aware of one specific man somewhere inside this packhouse.
Which obviously guaranteed that Riven Oak was the first thing I saw the second I entered the dining hall.
Of course.
His eyes lifted immediately.
Found mine instantly.
And there it was again.
That sharp pull low in my stomach.
God.
I sat beside Lyra while Joseph practically bounced in his seat across the table.
“Before anything else,” he announced dramatically, pointing toward me, “I need everyone to know Doctor Vale has officially improved both mining operations and my paperwork systems within twenty-four hours.”
Lyra blinked. “You touched Beta paperwork voluntarily?”
“She called it inefficient,” Guinevere said proudly.
“It was inefficient,” I defended.
Joseph looked personally emotional about this. “She reorganized three reporting divisions.”
Lyra turned slowly toward me. “You’re either a genius or deeply unwell.”
“Possibly both.”
That earned another laugh from the table.
Even Riven’s expression shifted slightly again.
Tiny.
Subtle.
But there.
Joseph leaned forward enthusiastically. “And the silver recovery changes alone are going to save Oak millions every year.”
Heat crept into my cheeks under the sudden attention.
“It’s really just optimization—”
“No,” Joseph interrupted immediately. “You keep saying that like you didn’t completely revolutionize systems people have struggled with for generations.”
Guinevere nodded. “She fixed my command flow in under an hour.”
Lyra pointed her fork toward me. “I’m starting to think we should just let you reorganize the entire pack.”
My laugh faded slightly as my eyes lifted instinctively toward Riven.
Wanting—
For some reason I couldn’t explain—
His reaction most of all.
Riven held my gaze steadily from across the table.
“You’re exceeding expectations, Doctor Vale,” he said calmly.
Cold words.
Controlled tone.
But somehow still approval.
Still recognition.
And irrationally?
That mattered.
Too much.
Lyra immediately rolled her eyes. “God, Riven. You make compliments sound like military evaluations.”
Joseph snorted into his drink.
A faint pulse moved in Riven’s jaw before his gaze returned to me again.
“You’ve done impressive work,” he corrected after a pause.
The quiet sincerity beneath the restraint hit harder than the actual words.
And suddenly the heat inside my body flared painfully again.
Too hot.
Too tight.
I looked down quickly at my plate, trying to ignore the rush of warmth spreading beneath my skin.
This was becoming impossible.
That night, I dreamed about him again.
Only this time—
It was worse.
Much worse.
Riven stood behind me in darkness, one large hand sliding slowly along my waist while heat coiled violently through my body.
I could feel him everywhere.
His chest.
His breath on my neck.
His voice low against my ear.
“Amara.”
Need pulsed painfully between my thighs.
My body arched back instinctively toward him, desperate for—
I woke gasping into the darkness.
Heat consumed me instantly.
Not metaphorically.
Physically.
My skin burned.
My heartbeat pounded.
Pressure twisted low in my stomach hard enough to hurt.
“Oh my God…”
I pushed the blankets away frantically.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
My thighs pressed together instinctively as another wave rolled through me, sharp enough to steal my breath.
The ache became unbearable.
Without thinking, my hand slid beneath my shorts again.
Tentative.
Curious.
Desperate for relief.
The second my fingers brushed against the sensitive ache between my thighs, my breath broke sharply. I keep brushing searching for a release, but instead of pleasure it was just pressure and pain.
But instead of helping—
It made everything worse.
The pressure intensified instantly.
Heat surged harder through my bloodstream until it almost felt painful.
“No,” I whispered shakily.
I jerked my hand away again, breathing unevenly.
What was happening to me?
This wasn’t normal.
My wolf paced frantically beneath my skin while instinct screamed loud enough to make my head spin.
I stumbled out of bed.
I needed information.
Answers.
Anything.
The packhouse halls were mostly quiet this late at night as I moved quickly toward the lower library levels, my entire body trembling with restless heat.
Maybe there were medical records.
Heat studies.
Something.
I barely registered where I was going anymore.
The ache inside me had become overwhelming.
Then suddenly—
Voices.
Low male voices drifted from farther down the corridor near one of the private lounges.
I slowed instinctively.
And the second I stepped into view—
Riven looked up.
Everything stopped.
His eyes locked onto mine instantly.
Then his entire body went rigid.
The scent of whiskey and smoke filled the room while several wolves turned toward me in confusion.
But Riven—
Riven stared at me like he already knew exactly what was happening.
And judging by the dangerous way his expression darkened—
He reacted to it too.