Page 48 of Trust No Alpha
“Tell me you saw it. Like something in the air ignited it, stretching out the flames.”
“Kris, you are a little feverish, I think. Other than the stomach upset, do you feel all right?”
I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. The roar in my ears was still there. And Thorne still had a pale purple aura. All over my skin prickled with sweat. I became very aware of my cock, like a heavy weight between my legs.
“Just a touch of flu.” But I had never had the flu. What was I saying? I knew deep down I didn’t want what I was truly thinking—and maybe Thorne was thinking it, too—to be true. So I behaved as if my hoped for outcome was real. I denied.
“I think maybe an early bedtime, then.” He spoke softly, the cadence like a stroke of reassurance. “I’ll make some tea and bring it in to you.”
Again I swallowed against a too-dry throat. “That sounds wonderful. With honey, please.”
He smiled indulgently. Then said, “Go on.”
I got up and felt a lot better when I walked away from the hearth and into the cooler air of the hallway. So refreshing. I pulled my sweater over my head to allow the air to absorb into my hot skin. My hair fanned about my shoulders, sticking to my skin wherever it fell. I hadn’t braided it today, so I had to reach back and gather it up, holding it to my head with one hand. Colder air pressed under my arms, feeling almost too good.
I leaned into my door, which stood open, and pressed my damp forehead to the wood.
I thought of Thorne in the kitchen making the tea, getting out the honey. Flames caressed the edges of my vision. I realized I should have asked for iced tea. And another glass of ice just to pour over my skin.
A cold shower. That was what I needed. I’d do that as soon as Thorne brought the tea and left.
I entered my room and tossed my sweater onto the seat of a chair. My pack sat, half-opened, on the top of a wooden dresser. I had not completely unpacked it because I felt nervous thinking I might stay here longer than a couple of weeks. What if things didn’t work out? What if Thorne turned out to really be a monster who had killed his Omega mate?
I’d brought the contents of my coat pockets into the room and hidden them in the top drawer underneath some t-shirts. I had cash and jewelry. It was worth quite a bit, though maybe not to someone like Father. But to me, who had nothing, it was enough to see me moderately fed, clothed and sheltered for several years if I was on my own.
I sat on the edge of my bed and kicked off my shoes. Thorne had loaned me a robe but I couldn’t see it anywhere. Still hot, I didn’t want to put it on, but Thorne was coming. It was only polite.
I leaned down and felt for it under the bed. I wasn’t usually such a slob, but maybe it had fallen.
Nothing.
As I pushed myself up into a sitting position, I heard a creak at my door.
Thorne stood at the threshold with two mugs in hand, the steam rising to fill the air with tiny dots of moisture. I could see those tiny dots clearly, reflecting the light of my room in a rainbow spectrum.
“May I come in?” Thorne asked.
He looked like a savior of perfection right out of my more private fantasies, his hair mussed a bit at the forehead, his trim figure all in black and silhouetted against the hall light. Pantherish.
I nodded, unable to find my tongue for a moment let alone my voice. I was bare-chested and still sweating and slightly embarrassed.
He stepped toward me and handed me one of the mugs. I made myself focus on the hot liquid, blowing on the surface.
“A good night’s sleep will probably do you well.”
I could only nod, not speak.
“Well, then, good night.”
He moved back toward the door and asked, “Do you prefer it open or closed?”
I had been too long behind locked doors. “Open,” I croaked out.
Thorne’s footsteps receded down the hall. My body lurched as if it wanted to get up on its own and chase him down. The urge was unique to me, and worried my mind.
I couldn’t stop a tremble of fear that ran through me. The Burn. I might never experience it, some texts said. But what if I did? What if I was on the edges of it right now?
“It’s the flu,” I said aloud to the empty room. “It’s the flu.”
