Chapter 9: I'm Going To Be Fine

Iris's POV

"Iris."

My father's voice came through the phone. "How are you?"

"Fine." I kept my voice flat. "How's the trip?"

"I'm wrapping up. Listen..." He paused. The kind that meant Sandra had put him up to something. "Your stepmother mentioned you haven't returned her calls. She's been asking about you."

"I've seen her messages." I said.

"So?" He asked.

"So I've been busy, Dad." My voice came out strained.

"She's making an effort, Iris..."

"She's really not." I said, cutting him off.

He went silent.

"Maybe you should think about coming home for a few weeks," he said finally. "Give it a real chance."

"I'm good where I am." I said.

"You've been at Rafael's for almost a month now."

"Chloe invited me." I sat up, swung my legs off the bed. "It's not a big deal."

"Iris..."

"When do you land?" I asked.

He paused again, longer this time. "End of the month."

"We'll do dinner," I said. "I'll call you."

"Alright." He sighed. "Take care of yourself. Tell Rafael I said hello."

The line went off.

I held the phone in my lap and stared at the bedroom door.

I was in my day four of pre-heat. I'd been on suppressants since I was eighteen, low-grade, campus-prescribed, and paired with birth control, they'd worked fine through everything, exams, Tristan, every inconvenient moment my omega side had picked to surface.

This week they were working at about half strength and I was aware of it every waking second.

I got up, took my morning pill with a full glass of water, grabbed my lecture notes off the desk and told myself I could function like a normal person.

I headed downstairs.

The house was quiet the way it got mid-morning, the housekeeper not in until noon, Chloe at her tutorial until eleven. My bare feet were silent on the stairs and I was almost to the bottom when I heard him.

His study door was cracked open.

His voice came down the hallway low and unhurried. It was probably a work call, he was pacing, the way he did when he did when he was in full Alpha mode, the kind of energy that made every room bend to his will.

I should have kept walking.

I stood there instead, my notes against my chest, and let his voice move through me.

His voice wrapped around my ribs and squeezed. My thighs pressed together, my pulse spiking. I could feel myself getting wet, my pulse had already spiked, the heat already pooling low, my thighs already pressing together the way they'd been pressing together for four days every time I got within twenty feet of him.

I went back upstairs and locked the bathroom door behind me.

I locked the door, pressed my back against the cold tub, and exhaled. My skin was too hot, my top clinging to me. I could still hear the echo of his voice, could still smell him.

fuck, why could I still smell him? and my body was a traitor, throbbing between my legs. I slid a hand under the waistband of my skirt, my fingers brushing over my clit, already swollen, already desperate.

I thought of the pool. The way his hands had felt on my waist, the way his mouth had moved against mine.

My breath came faster, my hips lifting into my touch. I was so wet, so empty, and the ache was unbearable. I circled my clit, my other hand fisting in my skirt, my teeth sinking into my lower lip to stifle the moan building in my throat. It didn’t take long. My body was too primed, too needy. I came with a choked gasp, my back arching, my fingers pressing harder as the waves of pleasure crashed over me.

When it was over, I slumped against the tub, my chest heaving. My hand was sticky, my thighs trembling. I wiped my fingers on my skirt, my face burning.

"Get it together," I said out loud to nobody.

I washed my hands, splashed cold water on my face and patted my cheeks dry. My reflection was a mess in the mirror, lips swollen from biting them, eyes too bright, cheeks flushed. I grabbed Chloe's perfume from the vanity, sprayed it into the air, and walked through the mist, hoping it would mask the scent of my arousal. It wouldn’t, not really. An Omega in pre-heat was impossible to hide, especially from an Alpha like Rafael, but I had to try. I took another suppressant anyway and went to my room.

I was on my bed with a textbook when Chloe appeared in the doorway still in her jacket from her tutorial, bag over one shoulder, eyes landing on me with that immediate reading she'd always been able to do.

"You okay?" She asked. "You look… flushed."

"Just hot." I forced a laugh, my fingers tightening around the book. "Maybe coming down with something."

"You’ve been weird since the pool." She tilted her head. "Did something happen with Tristan again?"

Yes. Your father kissed me, and I’ve been thinking about it every second since.

"Nope." I shook my head. " Just tired."

She dropped her bag. "Is it a heat thing?"

My stomach tightened. "I'm on suppressants."

"I know you're on suppressants." She said. "I'm asking if it's a heat thing."

"I'm handling it, Chloe." My voice came out rough.

She looked at me for a long moment. "Does my dad know?"

"Absolutely not." I said quickly.

"Iris..."

"I said I'm handling it." I kept my voice steady. "It's fine. The pills just need to catch up, that's all. It happens."

She chewed the inside of her cheek, not fully convinced. "You'd tell me if it got bad?"

"Yes." I said.

"Promise?" She insisted.

"Yes, Chloe." I sighed. "I promise."

She let it go the way she always eventually let things go when I was calm enough about them. "Lunch in twenty?"

"Okay," I said. "I'll be right there."

She left. I put the textbook face down on the mattress and pressed both hands over my face.

The room smelled like me, like need. Like an omega four days in who was taking her pills and lying to her best friend and living in the same house as the one Alpha her body had apparently been saving itself for since she was sixteen years old.

I stared at the ceiling.

"I'm going to be fine," I said to myself, even though I didn't believe it.