Page 37 of Ruffled Feathers

Did she have food poisoning? Was she having a panic attack? She looked wrong.

“I’ll take you,” I said firmly, then looked at Hopkins. “Call the office later.”

He nodded, his eyes watching Otillie-James in a way that made me want to growl like an Alpha. I hustled her out of the station and to my car at lightning speed. My Omega was thrashing around inside me, and I didn’t know why.

But as I closed my door, and her sweet floral scent hit me square between the eyes, I knew. My Omega knew too, and he waspanting.

Fuck.

“Otillie-James, are you okay?” I asked her softly, and she gave me a panicked expression.

She shook her head almost violently. “No. My body aches,” she whined, curling over. “Maybe I ate something bad?”

She was twenty-three, which was old for this. It was extremely rare, but not unheard of.

“Sweetheart, I think you might be going through your designation and your first heat all at once. I think you might be an Omega.”

Her pretty eyes flashed to mine. She looked at me like I was stupid. “I’m Unshown, Strat. I’m okay with that.”

I shook my head, holding back a chuckle, because it wouldn’t be helpful at this moment. “Does your belly feel like it’s burning, yet you feel so slick that you’re worried I’ll be able to see it leaking down those pretty thighs? Does your skin feel so sensitive that even the smallest breeze feels painful, yet you know that if I touched you, you’d feel better?” Okay, that was a little presumptuous on my behalf. But I definitely hoped that it was true. “Do you feel hot and cold and so needy that you just want to peel off your skin?”

“Yes,” she breathed through gritted teeth.

“Then babe, I think you’re an Omega, and you’re going into heat. There are a couple of options now,” I tell her, pulling outinto traffic. I had to get her somewhere fast, because I finally realized why my Omega had felt so off all day. She was pushing me into a sympathetic heat. Probably because it was her first one, and probably because it was delayed, it was going to be a doozy, and my Omega pheromones were all too happy to join in on the fuckery.

“I can take you to a heat house, and hand you over to some lovely nurses, who’ll have some Alphas who’ve all had health checks and criminal checks, and signed agreements to keep you safe. They have all sorts of safeguards to protect Omegas during their heat. I've been to a few myself. I can drive you there personally.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice light, which was harder than expected. “I think you’re throwing my Omega into heat, so we could ride it out together. It won’t be perfect, and we’d be pretty mindless, so if there’s someone you trust to check on us and make sure we aren’t dehydrated husks, it would be best to call them.” Her pheromones were starting to make my mind fuzzy now. “Alternatively, I can drop you home to your Alphas, if you trust them to get you through your first heat.”

“Home,” she breathed. A whine slipped from my lips, disappointed that it wouldn’t be me and her, but I understood. When you were in the haze of heat, your instincts naturally wanted an Alpha. We were literally made for each other.

“Okay, sweetheart. Hold on.” Using the car’s bluetooth system, I pulled up Truett Heathstone’s phone number. Then I reached over and wrapped my fingers in hers, holding her steady, pushing calming pheromones her way.

I remembered my first heat. It had been terrifying. I’d designated almost a year earlier, though, so I’d had time to plan and prepare, both emotionally and physically. To get a double whammy all at once must be so scary.

The phone line clicked. “Heathstone.”

I almost panted at the sound of his voice. I was going to have to deliver Otillie-James and head straight to a heat house myself. My Omega whimpered.

“Hello?”

“Truett, it’s Strat. Uh…”How do I say this without sounding insane?“I need you to meet me at the Chalmers Estate right now, and call your Packmate too.”

“Excuse me?”

“Otillie-James has just been through designation, and her first heat is hot on its heels. She’s an Omega.”

The silence down the end of the line was so loud, I could almost feel it hum around the car, only broken by the sound of Otillie-James’s whimpers of pain.

“Truett?”

“I’m sorry, I swear you just said OJ was an Omega.”

I growled. “Idid.Now get your ass home and attend to your damn Omega, Heathstone, or I will.” I jammed the end call button and squeezed her hand. “Almost there, sweetheart. I promise, your Alphas will make it all better.”

Or I’d kick their asses myself.

Nineteen

Otillie-James

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