Page 150 of Pack Rivals: Part Two
The next few moments are a blur.
The brothers carry their mom to the car port, Nate helps Molly to her feet and I race through the house, grabbing blankets and cushions and bottles of water. I thrust it all at Angel who stores them in the trunk, before kissing me and climbing into the passenger seat beside his mom, his sister on her other side.
Nate places his hand on my shoulder and I turn away from this family I love so much, and peer up at his face. It’s riddled with pain too.
“Go,” I tell him. “They need you.”
He hugs me, squeezing me tight against his muscular frame, and then he’s jumping into the passenger seat beside Axel as the car speeds out of the garage and down the drive.
I follow them out, racing down the driveway until the car turns a bend and disappears from sight.
When they’re gone, it hits me. My body shakes like Molly’s had. Tears roll down my face and my other three alphas surround me, pulling me close, enveloping me in their scents. We hold each other as the sun slinks behind the horizon and the world turns so much darker than it was just a few minutes before.
* * *
We don’t knowwhat to do with ourselves after that. We’re all tense, waiting for confirmation they’ve arrived, anxious to hear some news. Finally, Connor finds a movie for us to watch and Silver orders us a takeaway.
I don’t know if it’s the shock of what’s happened or if it’s just one of those damn annoying consequences, but my body decides now is the time to go a little berserk. We’re barely through the credits of the movie when a pain spikes deep in my gut. I double over and grunt and Connor looks at me with alarm.
“Bea, are you okay?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, waiting for the pain to pass, trying not to panic. This pain is familiar, all too familiar, and I can’t help shaking with the knowledge of what’s to come.
Slowly, the pain subsides. I rub at my lower belly and roll up.
“A cramp?” he asks.
“Yes, a bad one.”
“Your heat’s getting closer,” he says, nostrils flaring as he glances at Hardy.
I nod and chew on my lip.
I don’t want it to come yet. Not with half my pack away. Not with Mrs. Stormgate sick in the hospital.
Why can’t my freaking body behave for once?
I try to concentrate on the images on the screen, on the words the actors are saying. But it’s scrambled nonsense and my temperature creeps upwards. Sweat trickles down my neck, making my hair damp.
I take a deep breath in. Then out. As if I can blow the feelings away. As if I can cool this heat if I blow hard enough.
It’s no use.
I double over a second time, the agony even more intense. I groan.
“Shit, Bea your scent!”
I can taste it in my mouth; burned sugar. My stomach cramps harder, slick flooding between my thighs, soaking through the shorts I’m wearing.
“Oh no!” I cry out in horror.
“It’s all right,” Hardy says, “you’re okay.”
“But Mrs. Stormgate’s sofa!” I try to stand up and inspect the damage but when I try, I’m way too light-headed and end up swaying on my feet, Hardy catching me in his strong arms. “I think this is happening.”
“Let’s get you to the nest,” he says. But as he does the gong of the front door vibrates through the house.
“It’s our pizzas,” Connor says, “I’ll go get them.”
