Page 75 of Bloom in Darkness

Astra

My eyes keep going to the bite above Caelan's collar.

I know Bryn did it. He called Caelan his freshly bonded Alpha while I was on the phone last night, and the bite was impossible to miss when I got to the house. My attention keeps catching on the dark mark above his tux collar, every look putting Bryn’s teeth against my own skin in my head. Caelan wore the same stupid smile over his coffee this morning every time Bryn walked into the kitchen.

Caelan straightens my lapel for the fourth time, and I catch his wrist before he can start on the collar again. “Stop touching me.”

“I’m helping.”

“You’re making me hotter.” Bryn’s hand is resting on my thigh on the other side of me, so I look down at it and then at him until he reluctantly moves it too. “Both of you. Hands to yourselves for thirty seconds. I’m already sweating through a tux that cost more than my first car.”

Caelan sits back. “You were complaining about being hot before we left the house.”

“Because you two fucked me half the night.”

“That was mostly Bryn.”

I give him a look. “You participated enthusiastically,” which makes Bryn turn toward the window before I can catch him smiling. The car slows at a light, and I tug at my collar before Caelan can stop me. My skin has felt too warm since I woke up, but my head is clear. There’s no float or chemical hum, none of the weird hot-cold shivering that comes with too much Bloom. Just a steady heat low in my body and slick that won't quit. This feels like my cycle, not the Bloom.

I shift against the seat, my underwear damp enough that I can feel it. "Honestly," I say, "I kind of want to go crawl back into bed. I feel like I'm sitting on the edge of my heat or some bullshit."

Bryn is already reaching for me. “We can go home.”

I catch his hand before it reaches my thigh again. “No. I can want your bed and six blankets and still want to do this. My head is fine. I'm nervous, horny, overheated, and dressed like somebody is about to auction off a minor prince. None of those things mean I changed my mind."

Caelan waits a beat before nodding. "You call if your head stops being fine."

"I will."

When he leans forward, his collar shifts and exposes more of the bruising. I touch the side of my own neck where it meets my shoulder.

Bryn notices where I’m touching my neck, his attention locking there before I drop my hand back into my lap. The image stays with me anyway: his mouth against my skin, his teeth sinking into the same place he marked on Caelan. The car pulls up outside the Omega entrance while the image is still warm in my head.

Caelan reaches for my collar again, and I slap his hand away. “If you keep touching this fucking tux, I’m going to walk into the Night of Scarlet looking like I got fucked in the parking lot.”

“Sweetheart, you already smell like you got fucked at home,” he says, which gets an actual laugh out of Bryn before I can glare at either of them. I open the door before either of them can make it worse. Bryn catches my wrist long enough to pull me back for a slow kiss that sends the heat under my skin another degree higher.

“Inside,” I tell him when he tries for another.

Bryn keeps hold of my wrist for another second. “We’ll be there.”

“I know.” I squeeze his fingers once before getting out of the car.

The Night of Scarlet is already underway when I check in on the Omega side. A staff member in black formalwear confirms my name, gives me a slim ribbon marker for my lapel, and reminds me where the quiet rooms and security stations are if I need them. Beyond the entry corridor, chandeliers wash the ballroom in warm gold. Dark red roses sit in arrangements along the walls, but the room itself is softer than the club ever is, live music under the conversation instead of bass shaking through my ribs.

Omegas move through the crowd carrying roses from people who have approached them. Some have one. One man near the champagne table is carrying at least a dozen.

Sabine finds me before I make it across the room, looking me over once before inhaling. “You could have showered.”

“I did.”

Sabine’s mouth tightens. “Not well enough.”

I almost smile. “Take it up with them.”

She doesn't ask who I mean. Instead she turns slightly and points out Silas near the bar, Rourke a few yards away, then two established pairs farther across the room. "Any of them can settle your balance tonight. Silas has confirmed it. Rourke has confirmed it. Both households I sent you information about are willing to do the same."

“And if I don’t choose any of them?”