Daphne
"Daph! Can you get more gauzes before your break?"
"I'm on it."
As Daphne strolled away from the bed, she tugged at her elastic headband, her blonde hair cascading around her shoulders.
The last drunk patient to the ER had been quite the fighter. Keeping him down long enough to sedate him had her looking like she'd gone through the wringer.
She ran her fingers through her blonde hair before wrapping it in a tight ponytail. It was impossible to get a break when you covered the night ER shift.
But she didn't know how long she could go without stepping aside. This was a bad night.
She was in heat.
Her skin was clammy, her nerves were on edge, and everything sent her in the wrong direction. She hated the frailty it brought forward, how needy it made her.
The smell of blood.
The intoxicated men were flirting a little too much…
It was getting to her. At least everyone was human.
She pressed her index finger between her eyes and massaged the skin to soothe her headache.
Thinking straight was no longer possible.
Gauze, and then some fresh air. She could do this. She could get through the night. Then she'd go home and take care of the desires that had tormented her the entire night.
Like she often did during these times. It was safer.
There was only one person she ever sought comfort from—she pulled through it solo mode the rest of the time.
It wasn't natural for her to seek another werewolf; she wasn't like most of them. Daphne wasn't born like this. She became a werewolf.
Thankfully, her meetings with other members of her new species were far apart.
Sometimes, in the street, she'd get a sniff, her body would tauten, and she'd know what to do instantly: run like hell.
She'd always heeded that advice. Sure, tonight was a little more dangerous.
But—she'd never seen a werewolf this far into the city, and she knew no one at work was one.
It was safe. It was almost over.
Daphne refocused her concentration on her task, unlocking the blue metal cabinet with the key dangling from her ID badge.
She grasped as many packs of gauze as she could and pressed them to her chest.
She locked it back with one hand and turned around, her back pressing into the door of the nearby patient observation room. Then it hit her.
An alpha.
She'd never smelled one before, and yet—her body knew.
The second the scent caught her nose, she stiffened up. She could see the staff, the patients, and the visitors as they walked past her, but she felt in another dimension.
She stood there, clasping at gauze, frozen in place.
His scent was the sole thing she could smell. It fogged up her mind, her body heating as she dug her teeth into her bottom lip.
No. It wasn't possible.
Her heart thumped faster, straining against her chest. She would have known. The second he would have walked in… Had he been there already?
She'd been busy…supervising patients in the ER, rushing off to get some much-needed supplies.
Could she have overlooked it?
She made a point to always be careful. Human side first, instinct later.
However, that musky scent in the air called out to her.
This was why she never worked during her heat—it made her prone to stupid decisions like this. One wolf had been around her while her heat plagued her.
Only one. Daphne's self-control had been poor, to say the least.
He warned her. He told her. Stay home.
Her best friend had asked for a favor, and she had obliged. How could she deny this one favor? She did so much for her.
Plus, werewolves rarely came striding into the emergency room. What could happen in twelve hours?
This Daphne. This could happen.
She tried to swallow, her mouth like paste, as she smacked her lip, desperate for wetness—other than the one yielding her panties damp.
She felt it dripping from her core, staining her underwear.
He was in the room next to her; she could tell. There was blood and his scent, which was all she could focus on. Her heart reverberated in her chest like a drum as her nostrils twitched.
He got closer. Too close.
And then…
Everything happened so fast—too fast for her to register it.
Before her next air intake, something slammed her against the door, the aggressive motion closing it shut simultaneously.
The next time she blinked, there were hands on her—everywhere. Large hands palmed at her stomach and glided their way up until they cupped her breasts through the blue fabric of her uniform.
She held her breath, her head tilted back as she dared to open her eyes. There he was. In front of her, his imposing frame covered her much smaller one, his height causing him to tower over her. He trapped her.
Emerald eyes darkened as he gazed down at her face.
The trail of his glance on her body lit up her skin, and suddenly even the air she breathed in was hot. She was breathing, but it suffocated her at the same time.
Like dying and living all at once.
His hands slammed on the door behind her, his arms creating a barrier on each side of her body, entrapping her.
Her bottom lip quivered as she parted her mouth, desiring to speak but unable to find her voice.
She had partially lost control and inhibitions during her first heat—no one to explain what to expect or what would overwhelm her. She'd lost her virginity to another stray, her friend.
Her limited understanding of her own kind made her grateful for her packless status. Still, sometimes it came with the sting that she knew nothing. Since then, she'd learned to control herself, to establish a safe environment.
Sometimes, the pain became unbearable, and she'd give in to it.
It was an itch to scratch. A passing need.
This?
Her body was on fire.
The only answer to quench her thirst was him. More of his touch.
The thought of begging crossed her mind.
What the heck was wrong with me? Oh, God.
She felt his nose pressed against the column of her throat, yielding her breathless.
Her shoulder-length blonde hair tickled her skin as his lips followed along her neck, and she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.
A musky, earthy scent clung to him like a campfire on a chilly night and made her insides clench.
She bit her lip, waiting on his next move. The flutter in her empty stomach grew when his mouth found her ear.
Nibble, sharp teeth grazed against her earlobe before he jerked at it.
A warm puff of air tickled her as he huffed.
Coarse callus fingers brushed away the light strand of her hair sticking to her sticky, moist skin. They dove into her scalp.
This man hadn't uttered a single word to her, and her legs were shaking.
His scent carried his authority while unexplainable pressure in her chest came from his need for control.
She had been told about alphas, but she could have never guessed this was what it was like to be near one.
It shouldn't be… She'd been told many things, but…
No one told her it was dizzying, no one told her one brush of a finger, and she'd be soaking through her panties.
His skin was smooth beneath her touch—though she couldn't even remember when she had gripped his broad shoulders.
Finally, he made a sound, his voice feeling like silk ricocheting along her flesh. "Do you belong to someone?"
He ushered his words—a stolen whisper.
Belong to someone? His question rattled her brain, and despite the heat pooling in her stomach, she found her voice. "M-myself."
It would have had a significant effect without the trembling in her voice. That she mustered a verbal answer at all already represented a victory.
He chuckled—a sound dark and rich, sending a vibrating rumble through her body. That alone was enough to elicit a clench in her core.
There was always pressure; find a pack, follow an alpha.
She never took that path—not after what happened to her. She made her own pack with two friends. There were recluses and mismatches, but there wasn't an alpha to look after them. They look after themselves. It was better that way.
No one to hurt you, no one to go on a rampage.
It left her with a few surprises. She didn't want an alpha; she surely didn't want to fuck one. Like this one.
They took what they desired and didn't care about the hurt they left behind.
They were insatiable monsters. It wasn't for her.
Yet, despite her resolve, her fingernails dug at his skin, her thighs squeezing together, praying for relief.
"I'll take that as a no."
"I-I have to go."
Gauzes. That was her task.
Now that she could string two thoughts together, she discovered that she had lost them in the commotion. They were definitively not in the room.
Come on, Daphne. Think. Pull yourself together. It's just an alpha. You know better.
He didn't seem to care about her hesitance as his thumb brushed against her bottom lip, dragging it downward. "Go then," he challenged.
Great. That was precisely what she would do.
Except her body didn't follow.
Her legs didn't move.
She didn't break the staring contest they had going on.
Daphne was a statue.
"Don't seem so eager to leave," he teased, his warm breath tickling her cheek.
Let him.
She could hear it. The small voice inside of her, the one she so often shunned. It was the wolf inside her, the one she pretended wasn't there for many years. The one that compelled her to follow a path that wasn't hers.
She was a human first and foremost.
Daphne didn't care that the moon impacted her body, that animal instincts drove her. She spent sixteen years as a human. She couldn't throw that away.
Daphne had only been a wolf for six years—it didn't liken. No. She wasn't doing this—whatever it was. She didn't know this man. She didn't know who he was, his name—he was a stranger.
"I'm gonna kiss you."
It wasn't a question—it was an order.
Maybe a forewarning?
She didn't move. She couldn't. His voice was commanding, his words echoing through her like they were law. Was this the unbreakable control of the alpha?
That one she had heard so much about? He wasn't her alpha. She hadn't committed herself to him; she hadn't vowed to obey and protect. She didn't even know his freaking name.
He'll make you feel better.
No, he won't. It was fine.
She could take care of the growing hunger herself. It didn't matter that his hand clutching at her hip was enough for her to want to moan. It didn't. Really.
He did well on his word.
His lips collided with hers, his mouth melting against hers. His fingers dug into her skin while his other hand dragged down the length of her spine until it found her rear.
Forceful fingers squeezed it, earning a gasp from her.
Now that her mouth opened, he took full advantage, his tongue invading, mixing with hers.
She had let the instincts win a few times, but it never seemed like this.
It compared fireworks erupting in her chest, each of his touches making her wetter than the previous ministrations. The thought of more wasn't even enough to keep her sane.
The part of her she kept locked inside was clawing to free itself. It would give him a better surrender than Daphne ever would.
It roared in her head, telling her he could make it all go away; the emptiness, the need—the urge she wasn't even aware existed. No.
He popped off her mouth, leaving her lips bruised and swollen by the time he pulled away.
Something magnetic in his eyes kept her looking even when she didn't want to do so.
"Shouldn't be out here when you smell like that," he said, pushing his forehead to hers.
His eyes hypnotized her, and the words he spoke took a while to register. "Didn't anyone teach you that?"
She knew males could smell a female in heat.
She understood that her omega blood made her a bigger prey and a more appealing target.
Daphne heard different stories about how packs treated omegas. Honestly, she never desired to be someone's toy, baby machine, or good compliant little girl.
It didn't matter which way he thought; Daphne wasn't interested. She didn't want his way of life; she didn't want what he was, and she didn't want to be his little distraction.
But if she knew all that, why wasn't she fucking moving?
"No." She heard him as he sniffed her neck, taking her scent in. "No alpha, huh?"
"E-excuse me?"
He lifted his hand and grasped her chin between his fingers. He tilted her head backward, forcing her to look at him from below.
"You don't smell like you've got an alpha. Am I wrong?"
"I told you, I belong to myself."
He laughed again. "That's a lot of talk for a girl who hasn't moved yet."
He removed his tight grip on her hip. His hand inched upward until it framed one of her breasts. "Maybe you wanna know."
She held her breath, her chest caving in. "Know what?"
His lips suspended over hers, barely touching them.
His body moved forward, pressing against hers and allowing her to sense the full force of his own urges. "What it feels like when an alpha sinks into you."
She bit her lowermost lip at his words, teeth breaking the feeble membrane.
The taste of blood filled her mouth, but she disregarded it, his promise echoing in her mind. As his thumb flickered over her covered nipple, she knew his words were not full of fake promises; she could feel it inside her.
He'd take her if she let him and lowered her guard for a second. She'd be naked on that floor, her clothes ditched, and he'd be inside her before she could blink. And then she would feel better.
She wouldn't feel like she was dying. She wouldn't feel like part of her was missing.
Was it supposed to be like this?
"I've never had an omega before."
Her heart stopped.
"They say alphas lose control when an omega's in heat."
Did they?
"All they can think about is a taste of that sweet little nectar."
His eyes were half-lidded as if he were drunk, but she knew damn well he wasn't.
She tasted his mouth enough to know there was no alcohol in him.
She kind of wished she was drunk right now. Then she could handle this. The wolf wanted to get trashed. The human wanted to leave.
Her own heart repeatedly tore her in half.
"Are you gonna let me taste you?"
No. But the wrong word came out. "Yes." Her cheeks flustered, the heat spreading through her face.
Before she could take the word back, he laughed.
"So easy."
Fingers snared in the waistband of her pants, and she felt the cold air wrap around her rear.
She felt light as a feather when he lifted her from the ground, surrounding her legs around him.
His hardness pressed into her aching, wet core, forcing her to shiver. She could rock her hips and grind into him.
It wouldn't hurt if she let go and released the control. He'd satisfy her desire. It'd make it, so it didn't hurt so damn much.
One tear streamed down her face, and she couldn't tell if it was from her frustration or from fighting against this. It didn't matter.
His warm tongue brushed her face, licking away the tear.
She arched her back, inclining into him.
He palmed at her breast through the fabric; her nipples stiffened. He could ruin her.
Did she want him to, or did it like this?
The sound of metal clinging as his fingers fumbled with his belt buckle brought her back.
His momentary distraction allowed her to drop back to the ground, and she knew the seconds were ticking.
His bare chest was right in her face, causing her to notice his injury for the first time.
He had a deep wound beneath his ribs. The blood had dried. Stitches maybe. Why was she thinking about this now?
"You wanna do it?" he offered as his fingers let go of his belt.
No, she didn't want to do any of this.
She was at the right level. No. No. Get out of my head. She wanted to scream at herself, but she couldn't.
For the first time, he wasn't touching her. Finally, the fog in her mind was clear enough for her to think.
Yet she stood there, waiting for him to move, for him to proceed with fucking her senseless.
Fucking her until her voice was raw. Fucking her until her legs gave up. None of this was helping.
None of this was her combating this heat. Because she wasn't a goddamn animal, and she sure as fuck wasn't anyone's toy.
Run.
It was the only part she could think of now that the fog in her mind had vanished momentarily.
She used whatever power she had left to put her hands on his sweaty, glistening pectorals and pushed him away.
He toppled slightly, but it was enough to create more significant space between their bodies.
She bent over, her head swirling, and she gathered her bunched-up pants and slipped them on as gracefully as she could muster.
The next step was covering her trembling fingers around the metal door handle.
Daphne didn't look back at him; she didn't breathe. Only when she was on the other side of that door.
Her scent was strong; he was against the door. But he wasn't coming out.
A quiver rattled her stomach while a prickling sensation traveled down her spine. She had known heat before—this wasn't it. She tried to relax her shoulders, standing straighter, but couldn't unfold her body.
Every drum of her heart reverberated in her head, and her senses were on high alert. She concealed the bottom half of her face with her hand, tears stinging in her eyes, her emotions overcoming her.
There was a hand on her shoulder, this time a much more light touch, but her body reacted violently regardless. She jumped out of her skin.
She zoned back into the world surrounding her, taking in the black ponytail swaying with each tilt of her friend's head.
"Daph, you okay?"