In heat

The warriors dragged me through the winding stone halls, my feet scraping against the rough floor. I stumbled once, earning a rough yank on my arm that made me grit my teeth. The pain was nothing new, but it fed the fire inside me. I wouldn’t scream. I wouldn’t whimper.

I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

They led me deeper underground. The air changed, grew heavier, damper. The scent of sweat and blood lingered, mixed with the iron tang of old fear. My pulse quickened as we turned a corner, revealing a massive iron gate and a wide circular space beyond it.

The pit.

It wasn’t just a place to fight. It was a place to break people. Just like the pit in my pack that I ran away from.

They shoved the gate open and threw me inside like trash. I hit the ground hard, my knees scraping raw. The cold earth beneath me was unforgiving, dust clinging to my skin. I barely managed to turn onto my side when the gate slammed shut behind me with a deep, final clang.

I lay still, panting, trying to brace myself for whatever was next.

But then something shifted.

A heat began to bloom in my core, slow, curling, insidious. It started in my lower belly, a flush of warmth, and within moments, it had spread like wildfire under my skin. My breath hitched as the sensation deepened, becoming unbearable.

No. Not here. Not now.

My wolf stirred, panicked, desperate. It’s starting… we can’t let them see.

My fingernails dug into the dirt as I bit back a groan. The scent of my own heat began to rise, sweet, heady, laced with vulnerability and need. I curled in on myself, shame burning through me even hotter than the fever crawling through my body.

Outside the gate, footsteps approached measured, slow, deliberate.

Alpha Winston.

He stopped just a few feet from the bars, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the dirt. His dark eyes locked on me, scanning every inch of my trembling body.

And then, he paused.

He inhaled, just once.

I saw it, the exact second realization dawned on him. His jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared, barely perceptible. He looked down at me, not with desire… but with annoyance.

“Tch,” he muttered. “Of course.”

One of the warriors stepped forward. “Alpha—”

“He’s in heat,” Winston said flatly, his tone clipped and cold. “Back away. Now.”

The guards tensed, suddenly uneasy. They averted their eyes, shuffling back like they’d just realized they were too close to something dangerous.

One of them cleared his throat. “What do we—”

“Get the suppressant,” Winston growled, cutting him off. “He can’t be in that state before the training begins.”

A warrior hurried off, and Winston remained still, staring at me like I was a problem that kept getting worse.

I forced myself to sit up, shaking, my muscles aching with the effort. My body screamed for touch, for release, but I shoved it down. I would not beg. I would not whimper. Even with my vision swimming, I forced myself to look him in the eye.

“Happy now?” I rasped, voice low and raw. “You wanted me weak. You win.”

He didn’t look pleased.

“You think this is weakness?” he asked. “This—” he gestured at me, “—this heat of yours? It’s biology. Not defeat.”

I spat blood to the side. “Then let me suffer through it alone.”

“No.” His voice was final. “You’ll get the suppressant.”

I laughed, bitter and sharp. “Why? So I can train like a good little soldier tomorrow?”

Winston stepped closer to the bars, crouching slightly to meet my eye.

“You’re not a soldier,” he said, voice low. “You’re a mate. Our mate. You think I want you this way? Writhing in dirt and pain, unable to think through your own heat? No. When you fight beside us, you’ll do it with strength. Not like this.”

I flinched at the word mate.

“I never asked to be your mate,” I hissed. “You keep saying ‘ours’ like I belong to you.”

“You do.” His eyes burned. “You just haven’t accepted it yet.”

The warrior returned, holding a small syringe filled with a pale blue liquid. Winston snatched it without a word, then entered the cage.

I tried to crawl back, but I was too slow, too weak. He knelt beside me and grabbed my arm. His touch wasn’t cruel, but it wasn’t gentle, either. It was just… firm. Steady.

“Don’t,” I whispered, but it was late, he was already pressing the needle to my skin.

Cold fire rushed through my veins as the suppressant hit my bloodstream. It chilled the heat, dulled the ache. My muscles relaxed against my will, and I shuddered as the flush of desire slowly ebbed.

The relief was immediate.

But it also felt like a loss. He let go of my arm and stood, brushing dirt from his coat like he hadn’t just touched me during one of the most vulnerable moments of my life.

“You’ll thank me later,” he said without looking back.

“I’ll kill you first,” I muttered.

His lips quirked, barely a smile. “I look forward to the attempt.”

Then he left the cage. The bars locked behind him. The warriors followed.

I was alone again.

Alone in a cold pit, body trembling from the aftershocks of the suppressant, mind reeling with too many emotions to name. Anger. Fear. Shame.

But also something worse.

Curiosity.

What did they really want from me? And why did the idea of standing beside them… feel like a fate worse than death,yet not entirely unbearable?

My wolf whimpered softly, and I closed my eyes.

This was only the beginning.

Tomorrow, they wanted me to train.

But tonight?!!

Before I could think of anything, black started to cover my consciousness.