NICHOLAS (old version)

chapter nineteen: heat

This wasn't my body.

This didn't feel like my body.

This body felt foreign. It felt strong, it felt attentive, it felt powerful. In all of my eighteen years, nothing had ever felt that way. Powerful was never a synonym for Darcy.

The sun was shining brilliantly through the window. It was open and warm, an easy breeze drifting through. It had to be at least eighty out, and I peeled the blanket off of my legs, wrinkling my nose at the smell. Sweat and body odor - it was like I hadn't showered in a week. 

My glasses weren't on my face, but I could see better than ever. I saw every little hair on my skin, every thread in the blanket. I could smell grass and flowers and pollen. I was alone in the room, but I could hear voices coming from far off, chatting and laughing. I could hear the smiles on their faces.

"I mean, come on - I get that he wanted to get laid, but he was acting so desperate."

"He was so thirsty! Like, seriously!"

I did my best to tune out of the chatter. Instead, I stood, stumbling slightly on my legs. I wasn't sure how long I'd been out, been in the coma, but my entire body felt weak. Then, a voice.

Darcy? It was Nicks voice. I'd grown sort of used to it, by now, but I wasn't used to the tone of his voice in my head. It was a question. Directed at me. Everything came rushing back to me then.

He'd marked me. He'd wedged himself into my mind, and by now, he probably knew the deepest, darkest secrets I had. He probably had a fucking condo in my head. He'd saved my life, and I was thankful for that - hell, I couldn't blame him, his animal wouldn't let it's mate die. But by doing so, he'd stripped me of my free will. Of my right to chose the life I wanted.

Pain hit me like a brick wall. It wasn't bullet-in-your-forehead pain, but it was like I had the chicken pox. I wanted to scratch myself all over, but the itch was down to the bone. I'd have to tear right through my skin, and I almost wanted to, to make it stop.

My nails scratched against my wrist, and I gasped when it burned. When I glanced down and stared at the thin lines of blood. I'd literally scratched myself.

Alpha strength alright.

You'll get used to it. He told me, making me frown. When I'd marked him, I'd had the decency to keep the wall up; he'd jumped right over onto my side. I could feel him in my head, a slight buzzing in the back of my mind. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was annoying, like a persistent fly.

I'm just trying to make sure you're alright.

Fuck you.

Will do.

I heard his laugh, and that sent my anger to the back of my mind. All I could think about was how wonderful that laugh was, how I wanted him right here with that laugh. And his body. Oh, the things I would d-

The pain intensified. Everything itched even worse, and I had to ball my hands into fists to resist losing my shit and tearing my skin off. I was in heat, I reminded myself. And the only one who could fix it was...

Almost there.

He literally read my mind, and I didn't complain this time. I could feel him moving closer, my heart skipping a beat every time he rounded a corner. Closer, closer...

He swung the door open looking like a dog with a bone. Literally. His eyes were wide, his chest heaving as he panted, and I half expected him to come scoop me up and take me off to his silver chariot. But he didn't, because he was reasonable. Relatively.