Page 141 of Run Wild Omega

On Tess’s other side, Dylan is still possessively curled around her.

Tess sleeps between them, her breathing even, her face turned to Dylan’s chest. The bite mark on her shoulder is raw, the punctures already scabbing over.

He claimed her.

The thought settles in my chest. The pack I helped design has been altered by a set of teeth and a biological imperative none of us planned for, shifting our dynamic in a single night.

Wyatt answers, his voice low. “Dr. Nguyen.”

He listens, his gaze scanning Tess’s face.

“Temperature is down,” he says. “It was 101.1 when I last checked. The initial spike is plateauing.”

More talking on the other end.

“No complications. The bond took.” A pause. “Yeah. Dylan. One of my pack mates.”

Dr. Nguyen’s tone sharpens enough for me to hear it.

“She consented,” Wyatt says firmly. “Explicitly. Before, during, and after. She’s coherent. She asked for it.”

I sit up, swinging my legs off the mattress. The sheets are a wreckage of fabric, soaked with sweat, slick, and release. I grab my boxers from the floor, step into them, and pad barefoot toward the door. Wyatt glances up, and I tilt my head toward the living room. He nods.

The hallway is cool, the temperature difference hitting my skin like a reset button. Out here, the air is cleaner, smelling of cedar and leather rather than the overwhelming honey of Tess’s heat. My head clears. Marginally.

I open the refrigerator and survey the contents. Eggs, bread, butter, and cheese. I pull out the viable options and start assembling.

The kettle goes on. Bread into the toaster. Eggs cracked into a bowl, whisked, and poured into the pan. The sounds are mundane, domestic, absurdly normal given that twenty feet away, my pack mate is bonded to the woman I love.

I’m scrambling eggs when Wyatt appears in the doorway, sliding his phone into his pocket.

“Nguyen says the temperature drop is a good sign for the first wave,” he reports, leaning against the counter. “She wants another check-in at the eight-hour mark. If Tess holds below 101, the first cycle is stabilizing.”

“And the bond?”

“She wants to examine Tess once the heat breaks. Confirm the mark and document the bond for the registry.”

“The registry.” I flip the eggs. “Which we still haven’t filed.”

“No.”

“So Dylan’s claim is legally undocumented.”

“It is.”

“Which means Rourke can still challenge it.”

Wyatt’s jaw tightens. “I know.”

I set the spatula down and turn to face him. “We need to file today. The emergency clause, the pack registration, all of it. The bite mark is biological, but without legal documentation, it’s just a scar.”

“I said I know, Miles.”

“Did Nguyen say anything about the rest of the timeline?”

“Well, she said the acute fever phase should break within twelve to twenty-four hours. The residual waves can last a few days, but the dangerous part is over,” Wyatt says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Since Dylan bonded her, the intense fever spikes should level out, but she’s likely going to roll through waves of heat for the next seventy-two hours. This was just the first wave.”

I nod, turning back to the stove. Three days of this intensity will wear us all down to the bone. I slide the eggs onto two plates, add toast, and set one in front of Wyatt.