12. Rosalind
ROSALIND
Something is wrong with me.
I wake before dawn drenched in sweat, my skin burning like I have a fever but without the accompanying illness. My nightgown clings to my body uncomfortably, every thread feeling like sandpaper against hypersensitive skin that seems to crave touch I can't provide.
But worse than the physical discomfort is the ache low in my belly—a hollow, desperate need that has nothing to do with hunger and everything to do with the growing emptiness that only Kaelen's presence seems to fill.
I'm addicted to him. To his touch, his praise, the way his green eyes darken when I respond exactly as he wants. What started as simple learning and exploration has become something deeper, more dangerous. I crave his attention more than I've ever craved anything in my life.
The realization should horrify me. Instead, as I pace my chambers in the pre-dawn darkness, it fills me with a desperate urgency that makes my hands shake.
I need to see him. Need his touch, his voice, his reassurance that this aching need consuming me from the inside out is normal, expected, part of the awakening process he's been guiding me through.
When Lady Ferra finally arrives with breakfast, I'm practically vibrating with restless energy.
"Lady Rosalind," she says, setting down the tray with her usual serene efficiency. "You look... flushed. Are you feeling well?"
"I don't know," I admit honestly. "I feel strange. Restless. Like my skin doesn't fit properly."
Her knowing smile tells me she recognizes exactly what's happening to me. "Your heat is beginning to stir," she explains gently. "It's perfectly natural. His Highness has been expecting this."
Heat. The word sends a thrill of fear and anticipation through me. I've read about omega heat cycles in the diplomatic briefings, but reading clinical descriptions and experiencing the reality are entirely different things.
"When will it break fully?" I ask, though part of me already knows the answer from the growing urgency in my body.
"Soon," she says. "Perhaps today. Perhaps tomorrow. But when it does, you'll need your alpha immediately. The biological imperative becomes... overwhelming."
My alpha. The possessive phrase should bother me, but instead it sends relief flooding through my system. Kaelen isn't just the man who captured me anymore—he's become essential to my very existence.
"I need to see him," I say, abandoning any pretense of dignity. "Please. I need to see him now."
"Of course," Lady Ferra agrees, as if my desperate plea is perfectly reasonable. "He's been waiting for you."
The walk to his study feels endless, every step making the ache in my core more pronounced. By the time we reach his door, I'm fighting not to run, not to burst through without permission like the desperate creature I'm becoming.
"Enter when you're ready," Lady Ferra says, but I'm already knocking, already pushing through the door the moment his voice grants permission.
"Kaelen," I gasp, his name torn from my throat like a prayer.
He's standing by his desk, fully dressed but radiating the kind of tension that suggests he's been waiting as impatiently as I have. The moment he sees me, his nostrils flare and his green eyes darken with something that looks like hunger.
"Your scent," he says roughly. "It's changed."
"Something's wrong with me," I tell him, moving toward him with unsteady steps. "I can't think straight. I can't settle. I need?—"
"What do you need?" he asks, though he's already moving toward me with predatory grace.
"You," I whisper, the admission spilling out without shame or hesitation. "I need you. I need your touch, your voice, your presence. Everything aches without you."
His arms come around me immediately, and the relief is so profound I nearly sob. This is what I've been craving—his strength, his warmth, his complete attention focused entirely on me.
"Your heat is beginning," he murmurs against my hair, his voice carrying satisfaction and something that might be relief. "Earlier than expected, but not surprising given how responsive you've been."
"What does that mean?" I ask, though I'm not sure I care as long as he keeps holding me.
"It means your body has decided it's ready for claiming," he explains, his hands stroking my back in soothing motions. "Ready to be bonded permanently to your alpha."
The possessive certainty in his voice should alarm me. Instead, it sends heat racing through my veins.
"How long do I have?" I ask, because even through the haze of need, I can sense this is just the beginning.
"Until your heat breaks fully? Hours, perhaps less." His hold on me tightens possessively. "And once it does, there's no going back. Your body will demand claiming, and I'll give it everything it needs."
"Promise?" The word slips out desperate and needy.
"I promise," he says, and seals it with a kiss that tastes like possession and forever.
But even as his mouth claims mine, the ache in my core intensifies rather than subsides. I break away from the kiss with a whimper, pressing closer to him as heat floods through my system.
"It's getting worse," I gasp, my hands fisting in his shirt. "The ache. I need—I don't know what I need."
"I know what you need," he says, his voice rough with arousal and something that might be tenderness. His antlers begin to glow with soft golden light as my distress triggers his alpha instincts. "And I know how to give you temporary relief until your heat breaks fully."
His hands are already moving to the fastenings of my dress, and I help him eagerly, desperate for his touch on my burning skin. When the fabric falls away, leaving me bare before him, the cool air provides only momentary relief.
"Look at you," he murmurs reverently, his green eyes dark with hunger as his antlers brighten further. "So beautiful in your need. So perfect."
"Lie down," he instructs, guiding me toward the familiar arrangement of cushions. "Let me ease this for you."
I obey without question, my body already anticipating the relief only he can provide. When he kneels between my spread thighs, his antlers now blazing with light that fills the room with the scent of roses and arousal, I'm already trembling with need.
"This won't be like our previous lessons," he warns, his breath warm against my inner thigh as he presses soft kisses to my fevered skin. "Your body is hypersensitive now. Everything will be more intense."
"I don't care," I pant, my hips lifting toward him unconsciously. "Please, Kaelen. I need you."
"Such a good girl," he praises, his voice thick with arousal. "Asking so sweetly for what you need. I'm going to take care of you, dear one. I'm going to make it better."
The first touch of his mouth against my core makes me cry out in relief so profound it brings tears to my eyes. But he's right—everything is more intense now. Each stroke of his tongue sends lightning through my nervous system, each caress amplified by my body's desperate need.
"That's it," he murmurs against my flesh, the vibration adding another layer of sensation. "Let me hear how good this feels. Let me know I'm giving you what you need."
His antlers pulse brighter as my arousal fills the air, pheromones flooding the space around us. The combination of his skilled mouth and the magical scents makes my head spin with pleasure.
"Better?" he asks, looking up at me with green eyes that seem to glow as brightly as his antlers.
"Yes," I sob, my hands tangling in his dark hair. "So much better. Don't stop. Please don't stop."
"Never," he promises, his voice rough with his own need. "You taste like heaven, like everything I've ever wanted. I could worship you like this for hours."
He doesn't just pleasure me—he devours me with single-minded devotion, his mouth and tongue working with practiced skill to bring relief to the burning ache consuming me from within. Every moan, every gasp, every desperate plea for more is met with murmured praise.
"Perfect," he growls between long, slow strokes of his tongue. "Such sweet sounds. Such beautiful responses. You were made for this, made for me."
His words, combined with the magic radiating from his blazing antlers, push me toward the edge faster than ever before. When the first climax hits, it's with an intensity that nearly whites out my vision.
"Beautiful," he breathes, his voice full of awe as he watches me fall apart. "Look how perfectly you respond to me. How your body knows exactly what it needs."
But instead of satisfaction, the climax only provides temporary relief before the need builds again, stronger than before.
"More," I beg shamelessly, my body already seeking his touch again. "I need more."
"Of course you do," he soothes, his antlers pulsing with renewed light. "Your body is preparing for claiming. This is just the beginning of what you'll feel."
He brings me to climax again, his mouth relentless in its devotion, his praise constant and worshipful. "Such a responsive little omega," he murmurs between caresses. "So eager for your alpha's touch. So perfect in your need."
The second climax is even more intense, leaving me sobbing with pleasure and relief. But still it's not enough, the heat in my blood demanding more than temporary satisfaction.
"One more," he promises, his voice strained with his own arousal as his antlers blaze like golden torches. "Let me give you one more before we rest."
This time he's merciless in his thoroughness, using every technique he's taught me to crave until I'm screaming his name and clinging to his shoulders for anchor. The third climax breaks over me like a wave, so intense I lose all sense of time and place.
"Perfect," he whispers as he finally pulls away to gather me in his arms, his antlers slowly dimming but still glowing softly. "My perfect omega, so beautiful in your surrender."
I'm shaking and oversensitive, but the desperate edge has been blunted enough that I can think again.
"Thank you," I whisper against his chest, meaning it with every fiber of my being.
"Always," he promises, his arms tightening around me possessively, and I can feel his hardness pressing against my hip—proof that pleasuring me affects him just as deeply. "When your heat breaks fully, I'll give you everything you need. Complete relief. Permanent bonding. No more aching emptiness."
As his mouth claims mine, his breathing rough with his own arousal, I realize with crystal clarity that I don't want to go back anyway. Whatever I was before this awakening began feels hollow compared to what I'm becoming in his arms.
Soon—maybe even tonight—he'll claim me completely.
And I can't wait.