Lila stirred first, groaning softly. The sharp, agonizing internal fire had subsided, replaced by a dull, throbbing ache and a dizzying exhaustion. The heavy, sweet smell of her own pheromones was still thick in the sealed air, but it had softened enough to allow conscious thought.
She blinked her eyes open. She was on the soft bed, cocooned in a large, plush, white towel. She looked down and realized the towel was the only thing covering her.
A slow, creeping realization of what must have happened—the shower, the fall, the nakedness—sent a wave of furious, mortifying heat rushing up her neck.
Adrian was still there. He was sitting on the floor beside the bed, exactly where she had left him, his back braced against the wall. He hadn't moved. His breathing was deep and measured, but his powerful body was tense, coiled with barely contained energy. His eyes were closed, his hand resting lightly on the edge of the sheet near her covered knee.
Lila moved, trying to pull the towel tighter. The movement was enough to alert him. Adrian's eyes snapped open. They were the intense, clear silver now, but they were shadowed with exhaustion and a deep, careful alertness.
He didn't move toward her, nor did he look below her neck. He simply watched her face.
"You're awake," Adrian said, his voice flat, drained of its usual power. "The immediate shock has passed. The suppressant is working."
Lila tried to sit up, but the movement caused a jolt of pain in her core and a dizzying rush of the sweet pheromone. Adrian, without command, gently placed a hand on her exposed shoulder, applying just enough pressure to keep her still.
"Rest," he advised. "The floor is hard. You took a fall. No serious injury, but you need stillness."
Lila swallowed hard, her cheeks burning. "Adrian," she whispered, her voice rough. "The shower... I... I don't remember everything. Did you... did you see me?"
Adrian's silver eyes softened instantly. There was no mockery, no analysis, just a deep, raw respect. He still did not look below her face.
"Lila," he replied, his voice gentle and low—a sound she had never heard him use before. "You were in pain. You fell. I entered to prevent further injury. I covered you with the towel, immediately. I did not look at you, and I certainly did not touch you—beyond moving you to safety. I respect your privacy."
The sincerity was breathtaking. It wasn't the controlling Alpha claiming his right; it was a man, worn down, who had fought his most primal instincts for her conscious dignity.
Lila managed a small, shaky nod. "Thank you," she mumbled.
A faint, almost invisible smile touched Adrian's lips. It was a sweet, utterly human expression of relief. He reached out and gently brushed a damp strand of hair off her forehead. The contact was feather-light, tender, and completely safe.
"You're welcome, Lila," he whispered. "We will get through this. Together."
That simple, shared moment of honesty and safety—a sliver of true connection in the midst of chaos—was their first moment. It was the brief, calm before the storm.
The calm lasted less than five minutes.
Lila felt the sudden, alarming shift like a violent internal clock striking midnight. The deep ache in her core intensified, no longer dull, but sharp, demanding, and overwhelming. The biological craving surged back, a thousand times stronger than before, flooding her mind with one single, powerful purpose, Release.
"No," Lila gasped, clutching the sheets, her eyes flying wide. "Adrian, it's coming back! The pain—"
The sweet scent exploded in the sealed room, thick and intoxicating, overwhelming the air filters.
Adrian shot to his feet, his silver eyes instantly losing their clarity. They began to cloud, the red color from his True Blood instinct fighting savagely to surface. He knew what this meant, the initial suppressant had worn off, and the core biological need was returning with a catastrophic vengeance.
"Lila, listen to me! Fight the urge! Focus on the pain, not the source!" Adrian commanded, his voice dark and guttural, fighting the urge to tear the towel away.
But Lila couldn't hear him. Her conscious mind was dissolving under the tidal wave of heat. Her body was wracked with violent shivers, and she cried out—a long, pure sound of distress.
Her eyes, usually a sharp, intelligent brown, suddenly changed. They bled a shimmering, impossible electric blue—the color of an Omega pushed entirely into the primal state of need.
"Alpha!" the Omega in her screamed, her hands reaching out, not for comfort, but for the hard, stable presence that radiated safety and power.
She lunged forward, scrambling off the bed and onto Adrian's armored chest. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, pulling his head down.
Adrian roared—a frustrated, savage sound of loss and possessive need. His eyes went from silver to a dangerous, swirling molten red-gold. Her overpowering scent and the desperate physical contact broke the last, fragile barrier of his control.
This was no longer a research subject. This was the only woman who had ever looked at him with defiant intelligence, and now her primal self was offering him everything.
Adrian's hands came up instantly, gripping her waist in a possessive lock. The gentle Alpha was gone, replaced by the savage True Blood who smelled only mine.
Lila's Omega instinct was pure aggression and desperation. She pressed herself against him, her body burning against the cold metal plates of his combat vest, seeking warmth and friction. Her lips found his with clumsy, frantic urgency.
Adrian responded with a guttural sound of triumph, claiming the kiss with brutal intensity. His lips moved savagely against hers, demanding, devouring. He was fighting the urge to bite, to mark, to seal the pact the Omega was offering.
His large, powerful hands slid from her waist, easily gathering the soft, towel-wrapped woman and hoisting her up until she was straddling his hard thighs, her core pressing against the undeniable, rigid evidence of his arousal straining against the fabric of his gear.
Mine. The scent is everywhere. It is in my blood, my lungs, my soul. Her skin is impossibly soft against the rough fabric of the towel—like silk over fire. The heat radiating from her core is unbearable, beautiful, overwhelming.
He pulled his mouth away just long enough to growl. "You are intoxicating, Lila. My control is shattering."
Lila's Omega didn't understand words. It only understood need. Her blue eyes were fixed on him, filled with a primal, supplicating adoration. She began to rock slightly against him, a desperate, sensual movement that pulled a powerful, possessive growl from Adrian's chest—a low, rumbling vibration that shook her to the core.
Adrian's hands moved from her waist, sliding up her spine, then finally moving around to cup the soft curves of her bottom, anchoring her securely to his grinding hips. He kissed her again, slower now, dragging his lips across her throat, tracing the delicate curve of her jaw.
Control is a weakness.
His fingers slid into the folds of the towel, seeking warmth, seeking skin. He pulled her closer, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin beneath her ear.
I am giving her my marks. I know I am. Just the pressure of my jaw, the desperate need to bite, to mark this exquisite, responsive skin.
Lila gasped, a choked sound of pleasure and pain, her head tilting back, exposing the sensitive curve of her neck and shoulders. The towel, loosened by the action, slipped precariously low across her chest.
Adrian's eyes were blazing red-gold. The sight of her loosely covered breasts, rising and falling with her heavy, ragged breathing as she arched against him, was almost too much to bear.
Mine. Mine. Mine. Everything about her is mine. My omega, only mine.
He lifted her, adjusting her position, and the towel fell further, exposing the upper swell of her chest. Lila's hands were frantic, tearing at the front of his vest, trying to find skin, trying to urge him closer.
Their kisses deepened, becoming frantic, exploring. Adrian felt the slick heat emanating from beneath the towel, the undeniable sign that her body was desperately ready for him. He pulled back, his eyes locked on hers, the red-gold fire reflecting the chaotic blue in her own eyes.
He slipped one hand under the towel, his large, rough palm landing squarely on the tender, aching skin of her lower back. The simple, non-sexual pressure sent a violent shiver through Lila's body.
She cried out again, an intense, breathless sound, rocking hard against his thighs.
Adrian's breath hitched. They were at the absolute brink. The pressure was agonizing. His Alpha body was screaming victory. This was the moment of no return.
The thought, however, was simple, clear, and devastating: She is not here.
The woman who slapped him, the scientist who valued logic over survival, the one who demanded consent—she was gone. Only the Omega remained. And Adrian Wolfhart, the True Blood Alpha who valued control, refused to take what the Omega offered if the woman couldn't choose it.
With a superhuman effort that cost him an audible, desperate sob of resistance, Adrian stopped.
He pulled his mouth from hers. He fought the urge to thrust, to plunge into the heat that was consuming them both. He seized her arms, holding her tightly but gently away from his body.
"Stop!" Adrian commanded, the word raw, burning, and thick with pain. His voice shook violently. "Lila. Stop. I cannot do this."
Lila whimpered, her blue eyes closing in frustration and agony. She thrashed against his hold, her body rejecting the sudden halt. The sweet pheromone surged, assaulting his senses one final time, begging him to complete the biological function.
Adrian closed his eyes, fighting the urge to crush her to him and take the relief his body desperately needed.
"I apologize," Adrian gritted out, the apology less for her ears and more for his own honor. "I crossed the line. I will not take your Omega's consent."
He knew this wasn't over. Her heat would continue, and his control would remain fractured. They needed a physical barrier—something that would enforce the boundary he could no longer rely on his will to maintain.
I can't leave her alone again, she will injury herself.
With agonizing effort, he gently slid her off his lap and laid her back on the bed. His body was shaking violently.
He moved to the small, specialized Alpha kit on the desk. He returned with two things, a large, cold, chemical patch, and two lengths of magical suppression wire—thick, flexible cords designed to safely restrain powerful mages. They were soft, padded, and non-magical (to avoid interfering with her elemental biology), but impossibly strong.
Lila was still thrashing, whimpering, and calling his name.
"Lila, listen to my voice," Adrian commanded, his voice deep and absolute. "I need to secure you. For your safety. I will not touch you again. This is purely to ensure your well-being and to enforce your boundaries."
He applied the large, cold patch directly to her lower abdomen. The immediate, intense cold caused Lila to gasp and seize, breaking the frantic urge for a moment.
In that brief second of clarity, Adrian moved. He carefully lifted her arms and, using the soft, padded wire, secured her wrists gently but firmly to the strong, hidden anchors built into the frame of the isolation bed. He then secured her ankles with the second wire.
It wasn't a punishment or a display of dominance; it was a desperate act of preservation. He tied her down to protect her from his own loss of control.
Adrian stepped back, breathing heavily, watching the wires glow faintly in the subdued light. They held her safely, securely, enforcing a space of safety between them.
Lila lay pinned to the bed, the final surge of the heat's agony washing over her, her blue eyes staring at him with a mixture of confusion, frustration, and a deep, agonizing sexual plea.
Adrian looked down at her—the bruises from his grasp already forming faint shadows on her soft skin, the fever-heat making her scent heavy and unbearable. He knew he had done the only thing possible.
He dropped back down to the floor, leaning his head against the cold wall.
"Forgive me, Lila," Adrian whispered, the savage Alpha growl now a low, broken sound of self-control. "The lock stays sealed."