The Alpha's Addiction [BXB]

Chapter 41: Heat

I don't remember it being this painful. To crave an alpha so badly that your core cramps up, clenching around nothing. Needing it to be a cock.

I moan in discomfort, sweat beading on my brow despite the cool towel Oliver brought me. This is absolute torture. The puddle between my legs is only growing, preparing my body for penetration that won't come. I will have to suffer like this. It's all I can do.

Oliver glances up at me from the other side of the room, where he continues his homework. "You're sick, mama. You need Juliet to come check you."

I shake my head, managing a weak smile. "I'm not, baby. It will pass."

What feels like a stab to the abdomen suddenly shoots through me and I gasp, curling up in agony. My canine sinks into my lip, only intensifying the pain.

"Oh, fuck," I mutter beneath my breath, vision going blurry. Why is my body punishing me for not having sex?! I used to be punished near-constantly with the act of sex in the Blood Pack. I can never catch a break. Why am I finally having another heat, after all these years of its absence?

This must be a fluke. A last ditch effort by my body to trick me into taking my mate back. To make me believe I'm no longer infertile, just to rip the possibility of having Cyrus's pup away from me again. There's no way I can get pregnant. Going so long without a heat is a sentence to a barren womb. With nothing to nurture it for so long, it cannot give life.

I squash the sprouts of hope like weeds. To hell with this. I wish I'd pass out, rather than endure this nightmare called a heat.

Oliver abruptly stands up. "I'm gonna get Cyrus. Something is really wrong with you!"

I bolt up from the bed. "No, Oli. I told you, I'm fine."

His lower lip puffs out as he frowns. "I don't like when you pretend you're all okay. You need him. You never want to see him now, and it's hurting you. I learned at school that being apart from your fated mate is bad!"

"Please, I get it, but—"

He runs to the door. "I'm sorry mama. I have to do this,"

Before I can convince him otherwise, he's left the room. If I tried to go after him, I imagine I'd make it two steps before falling into a useless heap on the floor.

Is this what I've come to? A pathetic mother who makes his child needlessly worry after him?

I sling a shaky leg over the edge of the bed, cringing at how my pajamas stick to my skin with sweat. I'm only wearing thin shorts and a light loose top, the latter plastered to my chest and putting my nipples on practical display.

I brush a hand over one, whimpering at the ache the touch induces. They're hard with arousal.

I want Cyrus to suck on them with those full lips of his, suck and bite them hard until they're red and raw—

The door busts open, revealing the hulking silhouette of an alpha illuminated by the candlelit hall. It's grown dark outside already, so I can barely make out his features in the dim light of the lamp and moonshine from the window.

But I know it's him. The immediate tensions that seeps into the air, taut between the two of us.

"Oliver told me you were ill." His voice is icy. But underneath, I swear I hear a note of concern. He's out of breath, too, something that would only happen to a person as in-shape as he is if he came here the fastest he could.

Or am I imagining things? Perhaps the way I ruthlessly ripped his heart out a month ago has already significantly lessened his affection towards me. He was the one letting Beau all over him.