Page 39 of Snowed In With the Dragon Kings

Well. I knew that. In theory.

The village women have talked about it for as long as I can remember. How a woman in heat can drive men wild. How she has to be careful. How that's exactly why she needs a husband right away.

But hearing them gossip over the laundry is one thing. Lying here, burning up, in a bed with three unmated men, is something else entirely.

"We should tell you something," Rhydian says gently from my right. "We've known."

I turn my head toward him. "Known what?"

"That you're in heat. Since not long after we brought you in."

My face goes up in flames.

They knew. All day. The whole time I was so careful. Blaming my red cheeks on the soup. Ducking my head every time a wave of heat came over me. Feeling so clever about keeping my secret.

And they knew.

I want to pull the blankets over my head and never come out.

And then a worse thought creeps in.

All day, I've been looking at them. Noticing things. Zarek's shoulders. Rhydian's smile. Kaelen's arms when he caught me. I thought it was just me. I thought I was the only one going quietly mad in this cabin.

What if I am?

Maybe they've known all along and they've just been politely ignoring it? Pitying the poor, desperate village girl who can't stop staring?

"Has it..." I swallow. "Has it affected you? My heat? At all?"

"Gods, yes," Kaelen mutters.

He sounds so thoroughly, miserably frustrated that I almost laugh. Instead, I yank the blanket up to my nose and try to sink through the mattress.

"We've been trying not to make you uncomfortable," Rhydian says. "That's all. We didn't want you to feel like you weren't safe here."

I lower the blanket and stare at him. Then at Zarek. Then over at the big, dark shape of Kaelen, who seems to be gripping the edge of the bed like it's the only thing keeping him on it.

All day, they've been completely normal. Bringing me food. Hanging garlands. Making eggnog. Telling stories by the fire.

And the whole time, they were feeling this, too?

"How?" I ask. "How have you been acting so normal? Do you just have amazing self control?"

"It isn't about self control," Zarek says.

I turn back to him. In the low light from the fire, I can just make out his face. That hard jaw. Those serious gray eyes, looking straight at me.

"Wanting someone doesn't give you the right to touch them," he says. "No matter how much you want them. No matter how strong it gets. Without permission, it's not yours to take."

I don't know what to say to that.

Back home, nobody would ever say that. Back home, a woman's heat is the whole reason she has to be married off immediately. Like it's a fire someone needs to put out. Like it gives every man in the village the right to decide what happens to her.

Silas would've used it as an excuse. He'd have smiled and said it was for my own good.

And here's this man, who could probably snap me in half without trying, lying in the dark and telling me it's my choice.

Something inside me goes soft and warm in a way that has nothing to do with my heat. I lie quietly for a long while after that, thinking about it. But thinking doesn't help. The restlessness doesn't go anywhere. If anything, it gets worse. My legs won't stay still. My skin prickles. There's a heavy, aching throb low in my belly that won't let up.