Chapter 7

Amaya's pov 

I wake up feeling like I've been hit by a truck.

My head pounds. My body aches in a way that has nothing to do with what happened two nights ago—this is deeper, like my bones are trying to rearrange themselves. When I try to sit up, the room spins so violently I have to lie back down and wait for it to pass.

My wolf is restless, pacing and whining. Something's wrong.

"Just the flu," I mutter, forcing myself out of bed. "It's just the stupid flu."

Except I never get sick. Werewolves don't really get sick.

I make it through my morning routine on autopilot, though brushing my teeth makes me nauseous and the shower leaves me exhausted. By the time I'm dressed, I'm sweating despite the cool air in my room.

Maybe I should stay home.

But staying home means lying in bed thinking about them, feeling the bond pull and tug, and I can't handle that. School is a distraction. School gives me something to focus on besides the three alphas I'm still desperately trying to avoid.

The drive to campus takes all my concentration. Twice, I have to pull over because my vision blurs. My hands shake on the steering wheel.

"You're fine," I tell myself firmly. "Just get through today."

I'm barely out of my car when I feel them converge.

The bond flares—three distinct threads pulling tight as Alvaro, Javier, and Luciano all seem to sense something's wrong at the exact same moment. I can feel their alarm spike, their protective instincts kicking into overdrive.

No. No, no, no.

I try to walk faster toward the main building, but my legs feel like jelly. The morning sun is too bright. Everything's too loud. Someone's laughing nearby and it feels like nails on a chalkboard.

"Amaya."

Luciano materializes in front of me, seemingly out of nowhere. His hand goes to my elbow, steadying me, and his green eyes narrow as he takes in whatever he sees on my face.

"I'm fine," I say automatically.

"You're burning up." His other hand presses against my forehead. "And you look like you're about to pass out."

"I said I'm fine." I try to pull away, but he doesn't let go.

Then Alvaro and Javier are there too, flanking me, and suddenly I'm surrounded by worried alpha energy that makes my wolf want to roll over and submit. Show them I need help. Let them take care of it.

I shove that instinct down hard.

"What's wrong?" Alvaro demands. His hand joins Luciano's, cupping the side of my face, and I can see his wolf in his eyes—gold bleeding through, protective and fierce.

"Nothing's wrong. Let me go."

"Like hell." Javier's studying me like I'm a puzzle he needs to solve. "When did this start?"

"There's nothing to start. I'm just tired."

"You're shaking." Alvaro's thumb brushes my cheekbone, and I hate how good it feels. How much I want to lean into his touch. "And you smell different."

Because of course they'd notice that. Mates notice everything.

"I smell fine," I mutter, but another wave of dizziness hits and I sway.

All three of them tense. Luciano's arm wraps around my waist, holding me upright, and the protective rumble that comes from his chest makes several passing students look over nervously.

"We're taking you home," he says. Not a suggestion.

"No. I have class."

"Fuck class," Alvaro growls.

"Language, Mr. Reyes." Ms. Foster appears from nowhere, her voice sharp and grating. She's my English teacher—middle-aged, perpetually annoyed, and she hates when students congregate in the parking lot. "The bell's about to ring. All of you need to—"

Alvaro rounds on her so fast she actually steps back. "Lower your voice."

The command in his tone makes my wolf whimper. Makes Ms. Foster's eyes widen.

"Excuse me?" she says, but her voice is quieter now. Instinctively responding to an alpha's order.

"She doesn't feel well," Javier says, his tone more controlled but no less firm. "And your voice is making it worse."

Ms. Foster looks between them, then at me still swaying in Luciano's arms, and seems to reassess the situation. "Does she need the nurse?"

"She needs us," Luciano says flatly. "We'll handle it."

I should protest. Should tell them all to back off and leave me alone. But my head is pounding so hard I can barely think, and honestly, standing upright is taking all my energy.

Ms. Foster opens her mouth like she wants to argue, but something in their expressions makes her reconsider. "Fine. But I'm noting this as an absence."

She walks away, and I try again to pull free. "You can't just—"

"Watch us," Alvaro mutters.

They start guiding me toward the parking lot, moving as a unit. Luciano keeps his arm around my waist. Javier walks slightly ahead, clearing a path. Alvaro stays close to my other side, his hand on the small of my back.

The bond hums with their combined concern, and it's almost overwhelming. I can feel how worried they are. How their wolves are on high alert, ready to eliminate any threat to their mate.

We're halfway to Luciano's truck when Tyler Morrison—a junior alpha with more ego than sense—steps into our path.

"Hey, Amaya," he says with a grin that shows too many teeth. "You look like you could use some help. I could—"

The growl that erupts from all three of them simultaneously makes Tyler stumble backward. It's not human. It's not even close to human. It's pure alpha dominance, a warning that rattles through the air like thunder.

Tyler goes pale. "Jesus, okay, I was just—"

"Walk away," Javier says quietly, but there's a threat underlying every word. "Right now."

Tyler walks away. Practically runs, actually.

"You can't threaten people," I mumble, though my voice sounds distant even to my own ears.

"We just did," Alvaro replies.

My vision blurs again. The ground tilts sideways.

I hear Luciano curse, feel his arms tighten around me, but it's like I'm experiencing it from very far away. The world is spinning too fast and my body is too heavy and—

"Amaya. Stay with us."

Someone's carrying me. When did that happen? I'm pressed against a chest that smells like cedar and smoke. Alvaro. Definitely Alvaro.

"Almost there, baby," he murmurs against my hair. "Just hold on."

I want to tell him not to call me that. Want to push away and insist I can walk on my own. But the truth is, I can't. My body has decided to stop cooperating entirely.

Doors open. I'm being laid down on something soft—the back seat of a truck. Luciano's truck, based on the leather smell.

"What's wrong with her?" Javier's voice, tight with worry.

"I don't know." Alvaro's hand is on my forehead again, then my neck, checking my pulse. "She's burning up but she's shivering. This isn't normal."

"We need to take her to the pack doctor," Luciano says from the driver's seat.

"No." I force the word out even though talking feels like moving through molasses. "No pack doctor."

Because the pack doctor will tell my parents. Will make this official. Will confirm what I think might be happening and that I'm absolutely not ready to deal with.

"Amaya—" Javier starts.

"Please." I grab his hand without meaning to, holding on like an anchor. "Just... take me home. I'll be fine."

The three of them exchange looks. Having a silent conversation I'm not part of.

Finally, Luciano pulls out of the parking lot. Not toward my house, I realize dimly. Toward his apartment—the one he shares with Alvaro and Javier off campus.

"Wrong way," I mumble.

"Our place is closer," Alvaro says. He's sitting next to me in the back seat, and somehow my head has ended up in his lap. His fingers run through my hair in a soothing rhythm that makes my wolf practically purr. "And we can keep an eye on you there."

I should argue. Should demand they take me to my own house where I can suffer through whatever this is alone.

But another wave of dizziness crashes over me, strong enough that I curl into myself with a small sound I can't suppress.

Alvaro's hand tightens in my hair. "We've got you," he says softly. "I promise. We've got you."

The bond wraps around me like a blanket—three threads of warmth and protection and something else I'm not ready to name. Despite everything, despite all my efforts to push them away, my body relaxes into it.

Into them.

Just for today, my wolf whispers. Just until you feel better.

I let my eyes close, let myself drift. 

I feel safe.