30*

The first thing Suga saw when he woke up was the ceiling. His hand instinctively reached out to the side, expecting to find the warmth of the man who had fallen asleep beside him—but there was nothing.

Blinking away the haze of sleep, he slowly sat up, his gaze sweeping across the room. His fingers tugged at his damp shirt, a frown settling on his face as he felt the uncomfortable stickiness of sweat clinging to his skin, soaking into the fabric. It was suffocating.

His eyes flicked to the clock—it was still early. He pushed himself to stand, but the moment he moved, a sharp cramp twisted deep in his stomach. He momentarily froze. And then, realization sank in. Zion had been right. He could feel it. His heat had started today.

Zion had said he would stay. He had promised. So where was he? There was no way he had gone to work and left Suga alone like this.