Twenty-four hours after Liam's ultimatum, Hart discovered that werewolf heat cycles were not, in fact, a metaphor, and he was going to murder Cole Haanshil for downplaying exactly how bad this was going to be.
"I'm fine," Hart lied through gritted teeth, clutching the edge of the bathroom sink while his entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out.
His reflection looked like hell, his pupils is wider, and he was sweating through his third shirt of the day.
"Perfectly fine, nothing to worry about."
"You're absolutely not fine," Lewis Sekwig his Bestfriend said from the doorway with crossed arms, he's wearing his investigative journalist face that meant he was mentally cataloging everything for the exposé he'd probably write if they survived this.
"You look like you're dying, and also I just watched you nearly tackle Cole in the hallway because apparently you can smell him from three floors away now."
Hart splashed cold water on his face, which helped for approximately four seconds.
"In my defense, he smells really good, like unreasonably good, and I'm pretty sure that's a supernatural roofie situation because I've never been attracted to someone based on smell before."
"That's the mate bond," Cole said, appearing in the doorway behind Lewis, and Hart's entire body responded like someone had plugged him into an electrical socket.
All his nerve lit up, his skin got hotter, and the low cramping in his abdomen intensified, same as the desperately wanting.
"And it's going to get worse before it gets better."
Lewis looked between them, his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline.
"Okay, I'm leaving before this gets weird, and Hart, I'm telling you as your best friend that you need to make a decision about this mate situation before you combust, because watching you suffer is making me uncomfortable."
"Traitor," Hart called after him as Lewis fled, leaving Hart alone with Cole, which was both the best and worst thing that could happen right now.
Cole stayed in the doorway, clearly maintaining distance on purpose, though his eyes tracked Hart's every movement.
"The suppressants I gave you yesterday are wearing off faster than they should, which means your dormant wolf genetics are waking up and accelerating the process."
"Fantastic, love that for me." Hart turned back to the sink, gripping it very hard enough.
"So what happens if I just ride this out without choosing anyone? Do I spontaneously explode, or is it more of a slow agonizing death situation?"
"Your body will eventually shut down from the stress, probably within seventy-two hours." Cole's voice was carefully neutral, but Hart could hear the tension underneath.
"Or you'll become so vulnerable that any dominant wolf who gets near you will be able to claim you by force, and the bond won't fight it because you'll be too far gone to resist."
Hart closed his eyes, breathing through another wave of heat that made his legs shake.
"You really know how to sell the werewolf lifestyle, anyone ever tell you that?"
"I'm not trying to sell you anything." Cole finally moved closer, and Hart's body sang with relief at the proximity even as his brain screamed warnings about supernatural bonds and loss of free will.
"I'm trying to keep you alive long enough to make a real choice, and that includes being honest about what's happening."
"What's happening is that I'm apparently part of some ancient prophecy, your psychotic brother wants to own me like a collectible action figure, and my body is staging a mutiny because it thinks you're the answer to all my problems."
Hart turned to face him, and the distance between them felt both too far and not nearly far enough.
"And the worst part is that I can feel it, Cole. I can feel the bond trying to convince me that choosing you is the right call, and I don't know if what I'm feeling is real or just magical manipulation."
Cole's jaw tightened, and something painful flashed across his face.
"The bond doesn't create feelings that don't exist, it amplifies what's already there and removes the barriers that normally keep people from acting on attraction. Everything you feel is real, Hart. It's just accelerated."
"That's not reassuring."
"I know." Cole said and reached out slowly, giving Hart plenty of time to move away, and pressed his palm against Hart's forehead.
"Your temperature is spiking again. I need to give you another dose of suppressants, but they're going to knock you out for a few hours."
"Do it," Hart said, because staying conscious through this was rapidly becoming unbearable.
Cole pulled a syringe from his pocket, already prepared, and Hart would have laughed at the presumption if he had the energy.
The injection burned going in, but within seconds, the heat started fading to a dull throb, and Hart's legs finally gave out.
Cole caught him before he hit the floor, lifting him easily and carrying him toward the bed.
Hart's brain was too fuzzy to protest, and he found himself leaning into Cole's chest, breathing in that smell that made his hindbrain purr with satisfaction.
"Tell me about Liam," Hart mumbled as Cole set him down on the mattress.
"Tell me why he hates you enough to do all this."
Cole sat on the edge of the bed, his hand moving to Hart's hair in a gesture that was probably meant to be soothing but just made Hart want to pull him closer.
"Liam and I were close when we were young, before our father died. We trained together, hunted together, and planned to lead the pack as a unit.
But when our father was killed during what everyone thought was a challenge for Alpha position, something in Liam changed."
"What really happened?"
"Our father was murdered, not defeated in fair combat." Cole's voice went cold and hard.
"Someone staged it to look like a legitimate challenge, but there were too many inconsistencies. I spent five years investigating, and when I finally had proof, I discovered Liam had been involved in the conspiracy."
Hart's eyes were getting heavy, but he fought to stay conscious.
"Why would he kill his own father?"
"Because our father was planning to name me Alpha and give Liam a position leading our international operations, which Liam saw as an insult."
Cole's hand stilled in Hart's hair. "He wanted the power, title and pack's complete loyalty. When he realized I was gathering evidence against him, he tried to kill me during a pack meeting and claim self-defense.
He barely failed, and I exiled him instead of executing him because I couldn't bring myself to kill my own brother."
"That was stupid," Hart said. "He's clearly going to try again."
"I know." Cole's thumb brushed against Hart's temple.
"And this time, he's using you as his weapon, because he knows the fastest way to destroy me is to take what's mine."
Hart wanted to argue about the possessive language, but the suppressants were winning, dragging him down into darkness.
The last thing he heard before consciousness faded was the sound of raised voices from somewhere else in the manor, and Jethro's urgent tone.
"Alpha, Liam's sent another message. He's challenging you to a blood duel at dawn. Winner takes Hart, and loser dies."
Hart tried to force his eyes open so he could tell Cole not to accept, but his body didn't cooperate.