Chapter 161: Heat (1)
Lucas woke slowly, like the air itself had thickened around him. He was still wrapped in the cocoon of cool linen and Trevor’s steady warmth, but something had changed. Not in the room, but within him.
Trevor’s scent was the first thing he noticed. It was everywhere: on the sheets, in the pillow beneath his cheek, and soaked into the skin against his back. Clean, cool, and sharp, like alpine wind, snow melting on pine bark. However, there was something deeper beneath it, a thread of something darker and warmer.
It made Lucas’s breath catch.
He shifted beneath the blanket, his body aching in ways that had nothing to do with fever and everything to do with the slow hum beneath his skin, which became more intense when Trevor adjusted beside him, still half-asleep, his palm low on Lucas’ waist.
Lucas closed his eyes, trying to think of something else to distract himself from the scent of the alpha beside him, the heat of his palm seeping into his shirt and then his waist.
... It wasn’t working.
The more Lucas tried to ignore it, the worse it got. Trevor’s scent wasn’t just there; it was everywhere, braided into the fabric of the sheets, coiled inside the pillow, and threaded through the air like smoke. And the problem was that it wasn’t just the alpha scent. It was his alpha’s scent, even if neither of them had said those words aloud. It was the crisp clarity of snow, the weight of pine and storm and safety. And underneath it, something molten and possessive, like heat just waiting to rise.
Lucas exhaled through his nose, slow and shaky. Tried to move an inch away... and failed. His body betrayed him, shifting back instead, chasing the warmth of the hand on his waist.
Trevor stirred behind him, the motion lazy and drowsy, but his voice was alert and amused. "You’re squirming."
Lucas bit the inside of his cheek. "I’m not squirming."