Page 28 of What We Don't Say: Part Two

The language is cold. I knew it would be. It says I consent to a temporary witnessed Alpha bite from Idris Ward. It says I understand the bite creates temporary biological standing for Idris Ward as one of my Alphas for care and placementpurposes. It says I'm not under command, coercion, or heat impairment severe enough to prevent consent. It says I may request later review of the bite’s status and any placement actions taken under it.

My name sits at the bottom with a blank line beside it.

Theo Mehra.

For a second, seeing my full name there almost takes me apart. Bellwether used my full name on every form. Garrett used it when he wanted me to remember structure. The fake messages used it with my picture, my name turned into a door closing on Callie. I press the pen to the paper and make my hand move anyway.

The signature comes out shaky, but it is mine.

Zana signs beneath me as legal witness. Dr. Mercer signs as medical witness. Idris signs last before the bite, his handwriting steady except for the first letter, where the pen presses too hard and leaves a dark spot in the paper. I notice. He notices me noticing. Neither of us says anything.

“Where do you want the bite?” Dr. Mercer asks.

My face heats again. I look at Idris because I don't know the answer. His eyes move from my face to the place where my hoodie covers the curve between my neck and shoulder, then back up without lingering.

“Somewhere easy to document, easy to monitor, and easy for you to cover if you want privacy,” he says. “Shoulder is cleanest. Neck is more intense. Wrist is possible, but less stable.”

“Shoulder,” I say quickly, then breathe because quick doesn't mean wrong. “Shoulder.”

Sloane shifts beside me. “Do you want me behind you or beside you?”

The question almost hurts because it gives me another choice, and choices still feel new enough to bruise.

“Beside,” I say. “I want to see Idris.”

Sloane nods, and the pain that crosses his face is brief but real. He helps me sit forward, careful of my blanket and Callie’s sweater, then stays at my side with his hand in mine. Idris moves from the sofa to the floor in front of me, kneeling so I'm above him. The position makes something in my chest loosen.

“May I move your hoodie?” he asks.

“Yes.”

His fingers brush the collar, and my body shivers so hard I hear my own breath catch. He pauses, looking up at me from beneath dark lashes, and waits until I nod again. Then he eases the hoodie off one shoulder, only enough to expose skin. The room is warm, but air touches me like water, and I grip Sloane’s hand tighter.

Idris comes closer, careful enough that my body recognizes the question before the bite ever happens. He places his good hand lightly at my ribs, not holding me in place, only giving me a point to lean against.

“Last check,” Dr. Mercer says. “Theo, do you still consent?”

I look at Idris. His mouth is close to my shoulder, but he hasn’t lowered his head. He won't move until I give him the words.

“Yes,” I say. “I consent.”

Idris closes his eyes for one breath. When he opens them, they look darker.

He leans in slowly. His mouth touches my shoulder first, warm and careful, barely more than a kiss. My whole body reacts. Heat moves under my skin in a soft rush, with something gentler and humiliatingly sweet. I make a sound before I can stop it, a low little moan that slips out against the silence of the room.

My face burns. “Sorry.”

Sloane’s fingers tighten around mine. “Nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart.”

Idris doesn't lift his mouth from my skin when he speaks. His voice vibrates against me, and I nearly make the sound again. “You’re allowed to feel it.”

Then his teeth set.

The bite hurts for one bright second. Sharp pressure, skin breaking, Alpha biology striking through me like a match. My free hand grabs Idris’ shoulder, and Sloane’s hand closes around mine as my back arches. The sound that leaves me this time isn't small enough to hide. It trembles through the room, embarrassed and needy and mine.

Idris holds the bite steady.

He doesn't deepen it too far. I can feel the restraint in his jaw, in the way his hand stays open at my ribs, in the tremor that passes through him when my body answers. Something warm unfurls from the bite, a thread of black tea and rain slipping under my skin causing my purr to start.