Page 135 of The Case of the Missing Love Stone

“We have.” He starts toward the attic stairs. “You continue to misunderstand it.”

I look over his shoulder at Roman. “Are you allowing this?”

Roman collects my grandmother’s letter, the map photographs, and his sketch. “I support carrying you to bed on the grounds that I would like to join you there.”

“Corruption throughout the agency.”

Wes carries me down the stairs to the second floor. Halfway to the bedroom, another wave of heat moves through me.

It is deeper than arousal. It spreads beneath my skin and settles low in my body with a heavy, rhythmic pull. The ache isn’t easing with my exhaustion. My body feels full and restless, as though the orgasms fed the need instead of satisfying it. My scent thickens around us.

Both men go alert.

Roman touches my wrist, counting my pulse. Wes’s arms tighten without hurting me.

I think of Dr. Cole’s questions about my cycle, temperature, and scent changes. The possibility I’ve been refusing to name settles between us.

My heat is coming.

Chapter 31

Wes Osprey

Scarlet goes hot in my arms before we reach the bedroom. The change is swift enough that I feel it through my shirt. One moment she is warm from the attic, loose with exhaustion and pleasure. The next, heat pours from her skin, and her scent blooms so thickly through the hallway that my alpha surges forward with a force that nearly stops my feet.

The scent of green herbs sharpens beneath honeyed sweetness. Wet earth turns rich and fertile. Every instinct in me answers. Take her to the nest. Keep her there. Fill her until the heat breaks.

I tighten my hold and keep walking.

Roman reaches her bedroom first. He strips back the comforter and pulls the curtains while I lower Scarlet onto the mattress. Her fingers catch in my shirt before I can straighten.

“Don’t go.”

“I won’t, sweetheart.” The words ease the pinch between her brows, though her grip remains.

Roman kneels beside her and presses two fingers to her pulse. “Fast.”

Scarlet turns her face into my chest. “It feels wrong.”

“How?”

She breathes through another wave. “Too quick. I’m on suppressants. I’ve been on them so long, they don’t stop my heats entirely, but they’ve been giving me a few days of warning.” Her fingers tighten on my chest. “They’re usually mild. I get through them alone.”

My alpha reacts badly to the word usually. She has done this before. Alone. I’ve known that she was an unbonded omega living outside town, but facts on a page are devoid of emotion. Scarlet trembling against me while her body calls for a pack she has never had is anything but unemotional.

Roman meets my eyes over her head. “Call Cole. She’s already monitoring the exposure and Scarlet’s bloodwork.”

I pull my phone from my pocket without shifting Scarlet away from me. Dr. Cole answers on the second ring, her image appearing beneath harsh laboratory lights.

“Osprey.”

“Scarlet’s temperature is rising. Scent change, accelerated pulse, persistent pelvic pressure after orgasm. Suppressants don’t appear to be working.”

Scarlet lifts her head enough to glare at the phone. “You make me sound like a malfunctioning appliance.”

“You’re still insulting me, so neurological function appears intact.”

Her mouth twitches, but another cramp steals her expression.