My life

Heat

GENEVIEVE POV

I'd been at the pack for a little over a month now, and somehow, quietly, things had started to change.

Not all at once. Not magically. But slowly like my body and mind were learning a new rhythm after years of chaos. I was eating better. Sleeping better. I wasn't hurting myself nearly as often anymore. When I looked in the mirror, I didn't look so hollow. My eyes weren't constantly dull with exhaustion, and my skin didn't have that gray, sickly tint anymore.

And I wasn't alone inside my head anymore either.

I'd found her.

My wolf.

Her name was Layla.

She wasn't loud or demanding like I'd expected. She was calm. Warm. Protective in a quiet, steady way like she'd been waiting patiently all this time for me to be ready. We talked constantly. About everything. About fear. About healing. About how strange it felt to exist in a body that was finally waking up.

We weren't strong enough to shift yet. Mica said my body still needed time. But Layla didn't mind. She was just happy to be heard.

That night, I went to sleep feeling content in a way I'd never felt before.

And then I woke up burning.

Not warm. Not uncomfortable.

Burning.

It felt like my skin was on fire, like heat was trapped under my skin with nowhere to go. I threw the covers off, heart racing, sweat already dampening my clothes. The air felt thick, heavy, suffocating.

Why is it so hot?

The house had always been cool, perfectly regulated for pack comfort. No one could sleep like this. My stomach churned, nausea rolling through me in waves.

I got out of bed and stripped without even thinking about it. I didn't care if Mica saw me he wasn't even there anyway. And even if he had been, survival mattered more than embarrassment right now.

I stumbled into the bathroom and turned the shower on cold. The water hit my skin and I gasped, relief flooding me for half a second before the heat crept back in, stubborn and relentless. It helped but not enough.

Frustrated and shaky, I turned the water off and wrapped a towel around myself before sitting down on the cold tile floor. The chill seeped into my skin, grounding me just a little. I leaned my head back against the cabinet, breathing hard.

Layla stirred inside me.

Something's happening, she murmured not panicked, just alert.

Before I could respond, the bathroom door opened.

Mica stepped inside and he looked different.

His movements were sharp, restless. His eyes glowed gold, bright and intense, like his wolf was riding dangerously close to the surface. He looked frantic and focused all at once, scanning me like he was searching for injuries.

"Why is it so hot?" I demanded, my voice shaky and irritated. "This house is way too hot. Who could even sleep like this?"

He let out a small chuckle.

That was a mistake.

I grabbed the wet washcloth from the sink and threw it at him with all the strength I could manage. It hit his chest and slid down, dripping onto the floor.

"This isn't funny," I snapped. "I feel sick. I can't sleep. Everything hurts."

The smile disappeared immediately.

---

MICAS POV

I'd gone out for a jog because my wolf wouldn't settle.

Jack had been pacing beneath my skin for hours, restless and agitated in a way I hadn't felt since the day I found my mate. No matter how hard I ran, the tension didn't ease. Halfway home, the scent hit me.

Sharp. Warm. Overwhelming.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

I sprinted the rest of the way, fear and instinct driving me faster than thought. When I reached the house, I followed the scent straight to the bathroom.

She was sitting on the floor, wrapped in a towel, skin flushed, eyes bright with discomfort and frustration. The heat rolling off her was unmistakable.

She was in heat.

I laughed once, breathless and shocked not out of amusement, but disbelief.

She threw a washcloth at me.

That made me laugh harder until I really looked at her.

She wasn't just uncomfortable.

She was in pain.

Her breathing was uneven. Her hands trembled. Her scent wasn't inviting it was distressed. My wolf quieted instantly, replaced with something fierce and protective.

I crossed the room in two strides and lifted her easily into my arms. She tensed for a second, then relaxed, her body instinctively settling against mine as the heat eased just a little.

"I've got you," I murmured. "I know. I know it hurts."

I carried her back to bed and lay down with her, holding her close but careful anchoring, grounding, not taking anything she wasn't ready to give. Her breathing slowly steadied, the worst of the discomfort dulling in my arms.

I texted the doctor immediately, explaining everything and asking if there was anything anything at all I could do to help her through it without crossing boundaries she wasn't ready for.

The reply came quickly.

Stay with her. Physical closeness helps regulate it. No pressure. No intimacy. Just presence. Heat usually lasts a day but given her status as future Luna, it may last longer.

I swallowed hard.

I could handle longer.

I tightened my hold just slightly, letting her feel my steady heartbeat beneath her ear.

"We'll get through this," I whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."

And for the first time since the heat began, she slept.

Not because the pain was gone but because she wasn't facing it alone.