Chapter 1: The Cursed Heat

POV: Lucian Thorne (First-Person)

The pain started as a dull ache in my lower back. By noon, it felt like my spine was on fire.

I gripped the edge of my desk. I was Lucian Thorne, the sole heir to the Thorne empire, a top Alpha destined to rule. I had never bowed to anyone, and never shown weakness. But right now, my body was betraying me in the worst possible way.

My skin was too hot, my shirt was soaked with sweat and the scent…God, the scent. It was sweet, like overripe peaches and honey. An Omega scent.

"No," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Not me. I'm an Alpha."

But I knew the truth. I had been feeling strange for weeks. My strength had plummeted, my temper had become erratic and then, this morning, my father, Harrison Thorne, had looked at me across the breakfast table with pure disgust.

"You smell like a bitch in heat," he had said, his voice colder than ice. "You are no son of mine. Get out of my sight before I have you thrown into a clinic."

I had run to the only place I could think of, that is the VIP lounge of the Thorne Hotel. I had curled up on the leather sofa, praying for the pain to stop.

But the heat didn't stop. It grew and clawed at my insides. It made my thoughts fuzzy and my body weak that I could barely stay conscious.

And then I heard footsteps.

The door to the lounge clicked open. I forced my eyes open. Standing in the doorway was a man: Damien Cross. The CEO of Cross Industries. My father's biggest rival and the Alpha with a 98% compatibility rate to my scent.

I had seen him at galas. I had shaken his hand at business meetings, I had always thought he was dangerous, but I had never been afraid of him. I was an Alpha so I would say I was equal to him.

But today, I was burning alive and he was looking at me like I was something to be devoured.

"Don't just stand there," I snapped, my voice shaky. I fumbled with the buttons of my shirt, my fingers trembling. "If you want it, hurry up! I don't have all day."

I expected him to pounce or pin me against the wall and take what he wanted. That's what Alphas did.

Instead, Damien just stared. His gaze was hotter than my fever, raking over my exposed chest. He took a slow step forward, then another. His movements were calm and calculated like he had all the time in the world.

"Even like this," he whispered, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. "You are still so alluring."

He reached out and gently took my hand. Before I could pull away, he pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles. It was so tender, so completely opposite of what I needed, that it made me furious.

"What are you waiting for?" I snarled. I tried to kick him in the chest, aiming for his ribs. But Damien was faster. His large hand caught my ankle mid-air, holding it effortlessly.

I expected him to twist it. I expected him to remind me that I was weak now, that I was nothing but an Omega in heat.

Instead, his other hand moved to my stomach. He rested it there gently, his palm warm against my feverish skin. His gray eyes softened, filling with a tenderness that made my heart stutter.

"Let's change positions," Damien murmured, his thumb tracing a slow circle on my belly. "Don't hurt the baby."

The words didn't register at first. They bounced around my foggy brain like a foreign language.

"What?" I gasped, trying to pull my ankle free. "What on earth are you talking about? I'm an Alpha. I can't be pregnant!"

Damien didn't argue. He just reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He held it up so I could see.

It was a medical report. My medical report. From a clinic I had visited three weeks ago when the nausea first started. I had gone there because I thought I had food poisoning. I had demanded a blood test and had never gone back for the results.

My eyes scanned the page, my heart hammering against my ribs. And then I saw it.

Patient: Lucian Thorne.

Status: Second Differentiation confirmed. Omega.

Test Result: Positive. Gestation: 4 weeks.

The room spun. The air left my lungs. I stared at Damien, my lips parting, but no words came out.

"That's impossible," I finally managed. "That's a fake. You forged it."

"I don't forge medical documents, Lucian." Damien said, I'm response.

"I've never had sex with you!" I yelled. "I would remember."

Damien's jaw tightened. He looked away for a moment, and when he looked back, there was something dark in his eyes. Guilt? Anger? Something else I couldn't name.

"You don't remember," he said quietly. "Because you were drugged."

The room went silent and my heart stopped. "What?" I whispered.

"That's about three months ago at The Cross Industries annual gala. You were there. You were wearing a black mask. Someone spiked your drink."

I tried to remember everything that had happened in the gala. I remembered feeling dizzy, and somehow how I was being led to a room. I remembered a voice, a deep one at that telling me I was safe.

I wanted to make sure I remember everything accurately. "That was you," I breathed.

Damien nodded. "I found you in the hallway. You were burning up and you were begging me to help you. I tried to get you to a hospital, but the heat was too strong. You wouldn't let go of me and it was quite unfortunate I couldn't leave you."

"You took advantage of me," I spat, my hands shaking.

"No," Damien said, his voice hard. "I saved you. Someone else drugged you. Someone else wanted to hurt you. I stayed with you all night and when you woke up the next morning, you were gone before I could explain."

I stared at him. My mind was reeling. "Why didn't you find me?" I asked.

"I did," Damien said. "I've been watching you for three months. Waiting for the right time to tell you. Then I saw you at the hotel today, I smelled you must be around. I knew the heat was coming. I knew you needed me."

"You're a stalker," I said.

"I'm your Alpha," he corrected.

"You're not my anything." I spat out of frustration.

Damien reached out and gently touched my stomach again. I flinched, but I didn't pull away.

"This baby is mine, Lucian," he said softly. "And I will protect you both. Even if you hate me."

"I don't hate you," I said, and the words surprised me. "I just... I don't trust you."

"Then let me earn your trust." Damien said to me.

The heat surged again, violent and overwhelming that my knees buckled. The room tilted. I reached out, grabbing Damien's arm to keep from falling.

He caught me instantly, pulling me against his chest. I hated how safe he felt.

"You're burning up," he murmured, pressing his lips to my forehead. "We need to get you out of here."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," I mumbled, but my body was already giving up. My eyes were closing and my mind was slipping.

"You don't have a choice," Damien said. He lifted me easily, cradling me against his chest like I weighed nothing. "You're mine now, Lucian. And I don't let go of what's mine."

I wanted to argue but the darkness was pulling me under, and the last thing I heard was his voice, low and possessive.

"Sleep, little Omega. When you wake up, everything will be different."