Page 51 of Sold to the wrong Alpha
“Ren.”
Brody’s voice. Close. The squeak of a chair being pushed back. Quick footsteps.
Ren raised a hand. Palm out.Wait.
“Don’t touch me,” his voice came out broken, splintered. “Not yet. Listen to me.”
The floor beneath his hands was cool, and Ren pressed his forehead against it. He was breathing through his mouth. Short. Fast. Like a wounded animal.
“What’s going on?”
“Heat.”
Silence. A silence so violent that Ren felt it in his bones.
“The suppressants.” Ren swallowed. His throat was burning. “They took them from me at the casino. I have taken nothing since… I don’t know. Days. A week. More. I’ve had a fever for two days but didn’t recognize it. I’ve never had it without suppressants, no…”
The words tangled in his mouth. A wave of heat rose from his lower abdomen and wrung a sound from him that was neither a word nor a moan but something in between, something primitive and shameful that echoed in the silent office.
“Ren, look at me.”
He couldn’t. Looking at him meant smelling him more closely, and smelling him more closely meant losing what little control he had left. But his body no longer belonged to him. The heat was devouring him from within like a fire that someone was feeding with every breath, and the fuel was Brody; his scent, his proximity, his damn existence.
“I need…” Ren clenched his fists against the floor. “Do you have suppressants? Anything? Anything at all?”
“They won’t work once the cycle has started.”
Ren clenched his teeth. He knew that. Of course, he knew that. Suppressants were preventative, not curative. Once the heat entered the active phase, no chemical could stop it. There were only two options: endure the pain for days or…
Another wave. This one was worse. It twisted his stomach and doubled him over. A liquid, hot pain that originated in the center of his abdomen and expanded in concentric waves. Ren gasped. He bit his lower lip until he tasted the metallic flavor of blood.
“It hurts,” he murmured.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t,” Ren finally lifted his head. His eyes were watering from the effort of holding himself together. He saw Brody kneeling in front of him, less than a meter away, his hands resting on his own thighs, his knuckles white. “You do not know what it feels like.”
Brody’s eyes were dark. Not gray. Black. His pupils dilated until they swallowed the iris completely. Ren saw him struggling. He saw the tendons in his neck taut as cables, the vein in his temple pulsing visibly beneath his pale skin, his jaw locked at an angle that had to hurt. The alpha inside Brody was awake, standing tall, roaring against the bars of a discipline that was creaking.
“Help me,” Ren’s voice was a whisper. “Don’t make me go through this alone.”
“Ren…”
“I’m not giving up.” Tears fell down his cheeks. Hot. Fast. He hated them. “It’s not giving up if I’m choosing. Do you hear me? I’m choosing.”
Brody didn’t move. He wasn’t breathing. Ren saw the struggle in his eyes, the titanic effort of a man who had promised himself he wouldn’t touch without permission and who, now that he was receiving permission, didn’t trust it.
“If I touch you now,” Brody said in a voice that was more gravel than sound, “I won’t be able to stop.”
“I know.”
“No. You don’t know. Listen to me,” Brody leaned forward. The scent intensified, and Ren moaned involuntarily. “If I touch you now, the bond is complete. There’s no turning back. Do you understand what that means?”
Ren understood. He’d read about it in the library books. A completed bond was permanent. Irreversible. Etched into both their biology like a mark on bone. It wasn’t a contract that could be broken or an agreement that could be renegotiated. It was forever.
Another wave of pain shot through his abdomen, and Ren fell forward. His hands found Brody’s shoulders, and the contact felt like sticking his fingers into an electrical outlet. The jolt ran through his arms, down his chest, and exploded in his stomach. His whole body arched toward Brody in desperation. His movements were involuntary but, inevitable.
“Forever,” Ren whispered against Brody’s neck, his lips brushing the alpha’s warm skin, the scent of raisins and walnuts flooding his lungs. “I know. Help me.”
