The Fake Mate

“When did it start?”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It seems to be getting worse since this morning,” I tell him truthfully. “Ever since I left Noah’s.”

Parker scoffs. “You’re staying over now?”

“It just made sense,” I tell him wearily. “Since I was there so late.”

“I know you think I’m being a dick—”

“A valid opinion,” I cut in.

“—but I’m worried about you, Mack. That’s all. I thought it was a bad idea when you got wrapped up in this whole fake-mate nonsense, but I don’t think you’re considering the possible fallout of all this.”

“Keep your voice down,” I hiss, looking around to find us still alone. “You’re making too big of a deal about it, I promise. It’s a damned headache. Not an existential crisis.”

“I know, but you’ve always been so careful about how close you get to people, and now you’re diving into this pretend relationship headfirst without a second thought. I know you want to help Noah, but I worry you’ll end up getting hurt.”

“I said, keep your voice dow—”

“Hey,” a lilting voice calls from the counter behind us. “Do you have a list of Mr. Wheeler’s medication?”

I turn, immediately feeling my spine stiffen as I notice the last person I want within earshot of this conversation. Dennis Martin is smiling at me from the other side of the counter, his expression seemingly devoid of any indications that he might have heard what Parker and I were talking about.

“Oh,” Dennis says with innocent surprise. “I didn’t see you there, Dr. Carter. I mean, Mack.” He chuckles to himself. “Right?”

“Right,” I say woodenly. “Mack is fine.”

“I thought you were a nurse,” he says with another quiet laugh. “Any idea where they’ve all gone?”

“Staff meeting,” I tell him. “Parker was just looking at a wonky terminal while they were gone. They should be back soon, though, if you need something.”

“No, no,” he says casually. “I can come back. It isn’t urgent.” He braces his elbow on the counter, leaning against it. “How is Noah?”

I feel myself bristle. “Noah is . . . fine.”

“Good, good,” Dennis answers cheerfully. “He’s seemed a little off lately, hasn’t he? I worry, you know.”

I bet you do.

“Just stress, I think,” I tell him, trying not to let the panic in my belly show on my face. “He’s been very busy.”

“Oh, well, that’s good to hear,” Dennis offers, that same unreadable smile at his mouth. “I know all that fuss with the board must have been such a hassle.”

I keep my expression even, refusing to tear my eyes from his for fear of seeming guilty. “Fortunately, it was just a misunderstanding.”

“Right,” he says, his smile tilting up further.

He stays like that for a second too long, finally drumming his fingers against the countertop as he pushes away from it.

“Anyway,” he tells us in that same cheery tone, “I guess I’ll come back in a bit. Hope you guys get this situation sorted.”

He points to the terminal Parker has been gaping at him from behind for the last few minutes, and I give Dennis a tight nod. “Sure thing.”

“Tell Noah I said hi,” he calls over his shoulder as he starts off down the hall.

I don’t answer, Parker and I keeping quiet until Dennis’s footsteps have faded away down the hall. How in the hell had we not heard him coming up to begin with? I blow out a heavy breath when it’s clear he’s gone, bending to brace my hands on my knees. My headache is exponentially worse than it had been before Dennis’s interruption.

Parker makes a choked sound beside me. “Do you think he heard anything?”

“I . . .” I consider this for a long moment, finally shaking my head. “I don’t think so. He would have been way more smug, from what I know about him. I think that was just his normal bullshit.”

“I’m going to have a heart attack before all this is over.”

“I’ll prescribe you some Klonopin.”

“That feels unethical.” He must notice the way I’m shaking then. “Hey, are you okay? I really don’t think he heard anything.”

I shake my head, which feels foggy all of a sudden. “I don’t know.”

On top of my headache there is now that same strange tightness in my skin, similar to this morning but entirely worse with the still-pounding rhythm of my heart after the nerve-racking encounter with Dennis. I feel dizzy and weak, and my knees are trembling as if I might collapse at any given second.

What is wrong with me?

I feel myself stumbling before my ass even hits the ground, my head beginning to spin and my tongue seeming too thick. I sense Parker’s hand against my forehead, hear his muttered curse when he pulls it away.

“Jesus, Mack. You’re burning up. You are definitely not okay.” I hear him shouting for help, and I wince at the loudness of his voice, shutting my eyes in hopes that it will ease the pain in my head. “Hey! We need some help over here!”

There are footsteps that sound far away even when I can sense another body nearing, and I try to blink my eyes to discern who’s joined us, only to learn my vision is now blurry. There’s a cramping that’s starting up deep in my belly, a fire in my lungs that worsens with every breath.

But the worst of it doesn’t come until I hear Parker’s voice again—hear him asking someone I can’t see what on earth is wrong with me.

And just as I feel a growing wetness between my legs I hear a tight voice mutter back:

“She’s going into heat.”

More than the panic, I notice the deep disappointment when I realize the voice doesn’t belong to Noah.





14





Noah





When it hits me, it’s like a lightning strike.

I scent her the moment I step off the elevator onto her floor, and everything that comes after is hazy, like I’m watching it happen from outside my body. Coming to find her so that we can have lunch is a faraway thought, drowned in the all-encompassing sensation of being struck with Mackenzie’s scent that is practically dripping from the fucking walls. Even without being able to see her, it is immediately clear to me what’s happened. I can’t say why, or even how, but my body knows that she needs me. It becomes the driving force that seems to keep me moving.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, my heart rate rising and my blood rushing in my ears as my feet start to carry me down the hall in search of her. I can feel them pad one after the other as I move as if being pulled by a string, a hypnotic chanting in my head of omega omega omega that seeps into every facet of my being. I can’t begin to know what’s happening, or why my body is responding the way it is, but right now I am little more than a blind need to get to her.

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