Chapter 13: The First Full Heat

The world felt wrong.

Too bright. Too loud. Too sharp.

Aiden gripped the edge of the sink in the bathroom, knuckles white. Cold water rushed from the faucet, but it didn't help. His skin was burning. His heart thundered in his chest like it was trying to break out.

"Calm down," he whispered to himself. "You're just tired. Just sore from the fight." But the lie fell flat in the silence.

He wasn't tired — he was aching. His body pulsed with a heat he didn't understand. It wasn't just warmth. It was pressure. Need. Confusion. A desperate pull deep in his gut, like something had awakened and now refused to be caged.

His legs trembled.

He dropped to his knees, panting, gripping the floor like it might keep him grounded. Sweat clung to his neck. Every breath filled his nose with scent — not just his scent, but traces of alphas. Of him.

Theron.

A whimper escaped before he could choke it down.

"No, no," he gasped, curling in on himself. "I'm not— I'm not an omega. I'm not."

But his body betrayed him. His scent was shifting — growing sweeter, heavier, impossible to ignore. A part of him knew. Deep, primal instinct whispered truths he'd denied his entire life.This was his first heat.

He didn't even hear the footsteps until a door opened behind him.

"Aiden?"

Theron's voice — calm, low, but with an edge he hadn't heard before.

"Don't," Aiden hissed, curling tighter. "Don't come closer."

Theron didn't listen. Of course he didn't.

His footsteps were slow, careful, but deliberate. The air in the room changed, charged with tension. The scent of alpha filled the space like lightning before a storm.

Aiden looked up, eyes wide and glassy. "Stay away," he breathed.

"You're in heat," Theron said quietly.

"Shut up," Aiden spat, rage cracking through the haze. "Don't say it. Don't look at me like that—like I'm some fragile thing you need to handle."

Theron crouched a short distance away, hands resting on his thighs, posture relaxed. "You're not fragile," he said. "You're burning up. You didn't know this was coming, did you?"

Aiden's lips parted. But no sound came.

"No," he finally whispered. "I thought I was like the others. I thought—someone told me I was a beta."

Theron's eyes narrowed slightly, jaw tight. "Someone lied to you."

They stared at each other.

Aiden's body betrayed him again — a tremble, a whine in the back of his throat, the way his fingers curled helplessly on the floor. His scent was thick now, clinging to the walls. It made Theron shift where he crouched, muscles tightening in restraint.

"I can help you," Theron said, voice softer now, but there was something fierce beneath it. "You just have to let me."

Aiden shook his head. "I don't want your help."

"That's your heat talking."

"No," Aiden growled. "That's me. I don't want to belong to anyone."

"You don't," Theron said calmly. "But you do need to be safe. Do you trust me?"

Silence.

Aiden didn't know. Didn't know if this ache in his chest was trust or fear or longing. His body screamed for contact, for relief, for completion. But his mind— "I don't know," Aiden admitted.

Theron stood slowly. "Then let me prove it. I won't touch you unless you ask. But I'm not leaving you alone like this."

Aiden closed his eyes, tears prickling. He hated how much he wanted someone to stay.

The silence stretched between them, thick as smoke. Aiden's pulse thundered in his ears. His skin burned. Every nerve begged for something he couldn't name—relief, touch, control, escape.And yet, there Theron stood—calm.

Watching. Waiting.

Not with hunger, not with dominance, but something worse.

Understanding.

It broke something in Aiden's chest.

He turned his face to the floor, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. "You should leave," he whispered. "I'm not safe like this. I can't think. I might—"

"You won't hurt me," Theron interrupted, firm. "And I'm not leaving."

Aiden looked up, eyes bloodshot and wild. "Why? What do you want from me?"

Theron exhaled, his eyes gentler now, but filled with weight. "Nothing. Just you. Safe. Breathing. You."

That was too much.

Aiden lurched upright, staggering against the wall, his breath coming in gasps. "You don't get to say things like that! I don't even know what I am anymore!"

"You're Aiden," Theron said, stepping forward now—closer, but slow. "You're strong. You're loyal. You're brave as hell. And yeah—you're an omega. But that doesn't change the rest of you."

"It changes everything!" Aiden shouted, voice cracking. "I don't want to be wanted for my scent or some damn instinct. I want to be seen!"

Theron's jaw clenched. He took another step. Close now. Just an arm's length away.He lifted his hand but didn't touch. Just held it there, open, palm up.

"I see you," he said. "Heat or not. Scent or not. You're still you."

Aiden's breath hitched.

He stared at that open hand. One move and it would be over—he could take it, could lean in, let go. Let someone else carry the storm just for a second.

But that scared him more than the fire in his blood.

His body shook with a deep, involuntary tremor.

"I hate this," he whispered. "I hate feeling so weak."

"You're not weak," Theron said, and now there was fire in his voice. "You've held yourself together this long without even knowing what was happening to you. That's not weakness. That's survival."

Aiden blinked. A single tear slid down his cheek before he could stop it.

Theron didn't move. Didn't push. Didn't touch. Just stayed.

Aiden finally sank down, back sliding against the wall. His head fell into his hands, and for the first time in years, he let himself cry—not because he was broken, but because he didn't know how to stop holding himself together anymore.

And maybe... just maybe... he didn't have to.

After a few minutes, Aiden wasn't entirely sure when or how it happened.

One breath, he'd been curled against the wall, burning from the inside out. The next... he was no longer alone. Somehow, his body had moved on its own—instinct, not intention.He had crawled into Theron's space—into his body.

Aiden's chest was pressed to the alpha king's side, one of Theron's arms looped loosely around him in quiet permission. Not caging—just there. Steady. Present.

And Aiden's nose...

It was buried in the curve of Theron's neck, right over his scent gland. A deep, grounding inhale left Aiden in a slow, shivering exhale.

He should have panicked. Should have pulled away, apologized, run. But he didn't. Couldn't. His entire being was tethered to that spot—nose pressed to skin, breath hitching as Theron's scent poured through him like rain after fire.

Warm. Safe. Deep forest and lightning and something undeniably Alpha.

Theron didn't speak.

Didn't move.

Not even when Aiden tilted his head slightly and breathed him in again, slower this time. His fingertips brushed the soft fabric of Theron's shirt, fisting it lightly without even realizing.

A whine slipped from Aiden's throat, soft and raw, filled with confusion and desperation he couldn't put into words.

It wasn't sexual.

Not yet.It was need.Pure, bone-deep need.And Theron—gods help him—let him have it.

The Alpha king tilted his head just slightly, exposing more of the scent gland without a word. A silent offering.

Aiden's lips ghosted over the spot. Not a kiss—just closeness.

And the warmth that bloomed in his chest at that was unbearable.

Aiden gasped and jerked back, eyes wide. "I—I didn't mean—"

Theron caught his wrist gently.

"You're not doing anything wrong," he said softly. "You're in heat, Aiden. Your instincts are pulling you to what calms you. I'm not stopping you."

"But I—" Aiden's throat closed. His cheeks flushed. "I don't want to use you."

"You're not," Theron said. "You're seeking safety. That's not using anyone. That's survival."The words struck deeper than any touch.

Aiden let out a shuddering breath. "It hurts. It hurts so bad..."

Theron's thumb brushed over his wrist. "Then let me help."

Aiden stared at him, trembling, still caught between logic and instinct. But finally... slowly... he leaned back in.

This time, deliberately.

Scent met scent.

And for the first time that night, Aiden felt something solid under his feet again—like the world had stopped spinning quite so fast.