Page 105 of Heat & Deceit
He lifts his head and meets my gaze, eyes burning with desire. “I’m struggling,” he rasps, rolling his hips against mine. Fire lights up my insides. Something thumps against the floor, and the neighbor below me screams at me to shut off the detectors. I place my hand on the one around my throat and slowly peel it off, regretting it almost instantly.
“I’m not leaving,” I tell him again.
Finally, maybe believing me, he steps back.
I slip around him and rush into the kitchen, turning off the oven and turning on the overhead vent. I grab a towel to wave near the smoke detector. Lycus comes into the kitchen, tattooed hands in his pockets, gaze set on me. I’m so short, it’s almost comical how far away I am from the alarm. Without needing to be asked, Lycus walks to me and takes the towel, reaching up and waving it an inch below the ceiling.
Once the alarm is off, I let out a heavy breath and move to the oven, taking out the very burned cupcakes and placing the pan on the stovetop.
“That’s a lot of cupcakes,” Lycus says.
I turn and take in the counter covered in flour, sugar, frosting, and cupcakes. He reaches for one, but I lunge, snatching it from his hand. “Don’t,” I say, shaking my head.
“Why?” He lifts an eyebrow. “Are you going to a birthday party?”
“No.” I walk toward the trash can and throw away the one he’d grabbed, then carry the bin to the counter. One by one, I toss the cupcakes. Lycus narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything. Once they’re all gone, I grab a rag to start cleaning up.
“You weren’t here.” Lycus takes the rag from my hands, ignoring the glare I send his direction. “Who helped you through your heat?” There’s a thread of anger sewn within the question.
“No one,” I admit, turning on the water. “I ended up in an abandoned warehouse.”
Silence falls between us, stiff and uncomfortable. I glance over my shoulder, startled to see his hands braced against the counter, shoulders bunching together.
“Alone?” he asks, voice rough.
“Yes. Like I said, I don’t have a pack. Not anymore.”
“I’ll be right back.” He tosses the rag on the counter and storms out of the apartment. The door snaps shut behind him.
Worry gnaws at my insides. I want him to come back, but I refuse to be desperate. He said he’d be back...and I have to trust that. As much as trusting others is hard for me, Lycus has earned mine. Cleaning while constantly checking over my shoulder, I worry myself sick for twenty minutes until the door bursts open and he stomps over to where I’m leaning against the counter.
His knuckles are bloodied, and his hair is even more of a mess.
“What did you do?” My brow wrinkles, and I reach for his hand, inspecting the split knuckles.
“He kicked my ass.” Rome steps into the apartment, one eye dark and puffy. Bruises are scattered across his face and arms. He clutches his middle, hunching over slightly.
“Oh my god, Lycus!” I run over to Rome, and even though I’m mad at him for not giving me the suppressants, I check over his injuries. He looks horrible.
“He knew you were an omega and didn’t tell us. He could have stopped this.”
“I suspected,” Rome says with a sigh. “I thought youmightbe an omega. I wasn’t sure until you actually went into heat.”
“No thanks to you,” I murmur, taking a step back. Maybe that was a little unfair.
“About that.” Rome flicks his gaze to Lycus. “Can we talk alone?”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
I look at Lycus over my shoulder. “She can speak for herself.”
He swings his gaze to meet mine. “She doesn’t need to deal with this asshole.”
Straightening, I step toward him and poke his chest. “She can handle herself.”
“She—”
“Oh my god, Lycus,” I say with a frustrated huff. “Stop talking about me in third person.”
