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That's the only explanation. I'm lying in the middle of a bed the size of a small barn, wearing nothing but a borrowed shirt, with three of the most ridiculously handsome men I've ever seen stretched out around me. And I just told them I have a question.

A question I'm now realizing I very much do not want to say out loud.

The silence stretches. Nobody moves. Nobody even rustles the blankets.

They're waiting.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe if I lie here long enough, they'll fall asleep and forget I said anything. Maybe I'll fall asleep. Maybe the roof will cave in and spare me the embarrassment.

None of that happens.

What happens instead is that my body keeps right on doing what it's been doing for the last hour, which is driving me absolutely out of my head.

I knew the heat would make me want a man's touch. Every woman in my village knows that much. The married ones whisper about it over the wash and giggle like girls, and the unmarried ones pretend not to listen. I'd always thought it would be like a strong craving. Like wanting spiced apple tarts.

This is not like wanting spiced apple tarts.

My skin is too hot. My whole body is restless, buzzing, like there are bees trapped under my skin. I've kicked the blankets off twice and pulled them back up twice. The shirt I'm wearing keeps brushing against my breasts every time I move, and every time it does, I want to scream.

And the men aren't helping.

They're not doing anything. That's the problem. They're just there. I can hear them breathing in the dark. I can feel the heat coming off their bodies, even with all this space between us. Every time one of them moves, the mattress dips, and the whole bed sways a little, and I swear I can feel it in my bones.

And they smell good. Why do they smell so good? Soap and spice and woodsmoke and something underneath it all, something warm and dark that makes my mouth water.

It's impossible to think about anything else.

I'm so tired my eyes are burning. But there's no chance of sleep. Not like this.

"Elara?" Zarek's voice comes low from my left. "What did you want to ask?"

Right. The question.

I stare up at the dark beams and try to think of a delicate way to say it. Something polite. Something a lady might say.

There is no delicate way to say it.

"How much do you know," I ask carefully, "about a woman's first heat?"

There's a short pause.

"Quite a bit," Zarek says calmly. "What would you like to understand?"

He says it so evenly. Like I've asked him about the weather. Like this is a perfectly normal conversation to have with a stranger in bed in the middle of the night.

That helps. A little.

It also makes me reckless.

"Is it normal," I blurt, "to feel so ridiculously, unbearably horny that you can't think straight?"

Over on the far side of the bed, Kaelen groans.

It's low and deep and rough, almost a growl, and it goes straight through me. Every hair on my arms stands up. And suddenly, the air in the bed is different. Thicker. Charged, like the sky right before lightning.

I want to die.

Zarek, somehow, doesn't miss a beat. "Yes," he says. "It's normal. Strong desire is a natural part of heat. It's your body's way of looking for a mate." He pauses. "It can also have a powerful effect on any unmated men nearby."