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I know they’re mine.
The doctor was right. My Heat is violent, and scratch and bite marks appear on River’s chest more often than I’d like to admit in the next few days.
“Don’t worry about it, baby,” he tells me, his emerald eyes burning as I make a face at them. “I hope they leave scars.”
They feed me. They clothe me.
They treat like a princess, and for once, I don’t feel guilty about it.
I just let myself enjoy the wild days of my Heat.
I allow myself to be taken care of.
It lasts about a week.
I can tell my Heat is ending when I walk into the living room and see Vincent on his laptop, sitting on the couch.
Reality crashes down on me.
“Oh no,” I blurt out, and he frowns.
“What’s wrong?” he demands, closing his laptop and coming towards me. “Are you in pain, is it?—”
“You’ve missed work for days,” I say, horrified. “All those cases?—”
“Skylar. Don’t,” he warns, but I press on, my face hot with shame.
“You dropped everything to come here, right after the press conference, and?—”
He steps forward and kisses me hard, stunning me. He cups my face with his hands as his eyes blaze into mine.
“This needed to happen,” he promises me. “Did you really think we would let you go through this alone?”
Guilt eats at me. “But what about April? I forgot all about her.”
Vincent shakes his head. “No, you didn’t,” he says. “Sit down with me. I want to show you something.”
Vincent’s scent swirls around me, rich and heady, as he leads me to the couch.
“I can sense your anxiety,” he tells me quietly as he opens his laptop. “Hopefully, this will help.”
There’s a video on the screen. It’s from the press conference from the other day, but it’s a clip of my speech.
I frown. “Why are you watching this?”
“Look at the views,” Vincent says.
I pause.
It’s in the millions.
“What is this?” I whisper, unable to believe my eyes.
“Your speech went viral,” Vincent says, a hint of pride in his voice. “People that normally don’t pay attention to press conferences suddenly know all about the missing Omegas, including April.”
I can’t breathe. I stare at the number of views on the screen, flabbergasted.
My own voice echoes from Vincent’s laptop.
