CLAYTON
I tear at the hands restraining me, snarling with a fury that nearly chokes me. The scent of my mate—my omega—still clings to my skin, an intoxicating perfume that drives me to the brink of madness.
"Let me go!" I roar, thrashing against the iron grip of my beta and the guards I'd assigned to Ava's room—all mated, all safe from her heat. They hold fast, dragging me further from the room where she lies. Further from the sweet siren song of her scent.
"Alpha, you must control yourself," Rowan grits out, his voice strained with the effort of containing my rage. But control is a distant memory, shattered the moment I caught her scent. The moment I knew she was mine.
Have been SEVERELY ill, in/out of urgent care!