"It's getting hot," Jet mumbled, his voice faint as his head rested against Han's shoulder.
Han glanced down at him, concern flickering in his eyes. He adjusted his hold, cradling Jet closer as he trudged through the snow. "Hang on, Jet. We're almost there," he said, though the unease creeping into his chest made his words sound hollow.
Jet shifted slightly, his breaths growing heavier, his face flushed. Han frowned, but it wasn't until a sudden, overwhelming wave of pheromones hit him that his steps faltered. His body stiffened, his instincts screaming at him to act.
"Jet," Han said sharply, lowering his gaze to the Omega in his arms.
Jet's eyes fluttered shut, his lips parting as another quiet murmur left him, incoherent but filled with discomfort.
Han's mind raced. He couldn't bring him to the village like this, and Jet couldn't make it through the cold in this state to find someplace else. Panic nipped at the edges of his thoughts, but he forced himself to stay calm. Pivoting, he changed direction, heading deeper into the forest. He knew of a small hut, a safe place, isolated enough to keep them hidden.
The journey felt like hours, though it was only minutes before Han reached the hut. Kicking the door open, he stepped inside, the old wood creaking under his weight. He laid Jet down carefully on a pile of hay, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled the coat tighter around him. The firewood was damp, but Han's hurried movements brought it to life, the crackling flames quickly filling the small space with warmth.
He turned back to Jet, his pulse pounding. Kneeling beside him, Han brushed Jet's damp hair away from his face. His skin was hot to the touch, his breathing shallow. Han's chest tightened with realization.
"Your heat cycle…" Han whispered, his voice breaking with worry.
Jet stirred, his eyelids fluttering open slightly, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "Han?" he muttered, his voice barely audible.
Han swallowed hard, gripping Jet's hand tightly. "I'm here," he said softly. "I've got you. You're safe."
Jet's fingers weakly curled around Han's, his body shivering despite the warmth. "It hurts…" he mumbled, his voice trembling.
Han's heart clenched. "I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
He couldn't let Jet suffer like this, but the implications of what he needed to do weighed heavily on him. His mind raced for another solution, but the reality of their situation loomed large.
The storm outside howled, but inside the hut, the fire crackled softly as Han prepared to do whatever it took to protect the person in his arms.
—-
Han couldn't sleep the entire night. His body remained tense as Jet's pheromones thickened the air, clouding his senses and setting his instincts ablaze. The sharp voice of his Alpha nature screamed at him to act, to claim, to protect what was his. But his heart—the rational, grounded part of him—fought back just as fiercely.
This wasn't just any Omega. This was Jet. His Jet. And Han refused to let instincts dictate his actions, no matter how overwhelming the urge.
For a moment, he paced the cramped hut, running a hand through his hair as his breathing grew heavier. He tried to suppress the rising heat coursing through him, a battle against his own biology. Think. Stay in control. But no matter how much he fought, leaving Jet alone wasn't an option. Not out here in the wilderness. Not in this vulnerable state.
Han's gaze flickered toward Jet, who lay trembling on the makeshift bed, his flushed face and shallow breaths causing Han's resolve to crack further. Jaw clenched, Han crouched by the fire, focusing on feeding the flames rather than the intoxicating scent saturating the air.
The cruelty of their biology weighed on him. Heat and rut were designed to pull Alphas and Omegas together, to form a sacred, unbreakable bond that would demand everything from them. Han tightened his fists, digging his nails into his palms. Not like this. Not now.
When morning came, the storm softened enough for Han to leave briefly. The wolves, sensing his worry, were stationed outside the hut to ensure Jet's safety. Han sprinted to the village, gathering food and fresh cloth from his home before racing back. The urgency of caring for Jet was the only thing keeping him grounded.
Inside the hut, Han's routine became mechanical. He boiled water, soaked cloths to cool Jet's fever, and prepared porridge in the small pot. Each task was a lifeline, a distraction from the constant pull of Jet's pheromones. During the short moments Jet rested, Han would step outside, leaning against the frozen wall, the icy air burning his lungs as he forced himself to calm down. But when night fell, the storm returned with a vengeance, confining him inside with Jet once again.
Jet slowly opened his eyes, his voice weak as he mumbled, "Han." His trembling hand reached out, searching blindly.
"I'm here," Han reassured him immediately, stepping closer. He knelt beside Jet, wringing out a damp cloth from the bowl of water. "I'm not going anywhere."
Jet's breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps. "It's... getting worse," he rasped, his grip on Han's arm weak but desperate.
"I know," Han murmured, his heart aching as he adjusted Jet's coat to keep him warm. "But you'll get through this. I promise. I'm staying right here with you."
Jet's eyes glistened, a mix of frustration and despair. "Please," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I can't... take it anymore."
Han froze, his heart pounding like a war drum. "Jet…" he said softly, almost pleading. He wasn't sure if he was begging Jet to stop or himself to hold on. "You don't mean that. It's the heat talking."
Jet's lips trembled, tears spilling from the corners of his eyes. "I do," he insisted, his voice breaking. "It hurts, Han. It hurts so much, and I trust you. I want it to be you."
Those words shattered something inside Han. The Omega's desperate plea ignited a fire in his chest, the primal urge to protect and claim nearly overwhelming him. His entire body screamed to act, to end their shared torment.
But Han shut his eyes and pulled back, his voice firm despite the tremor in it. "No," he said. "Not like this. You're not thinking clearly, Jet."
Jet's strength gave out, and he sank back onto the bed, too exhausted to argue further. He closed his eyes, his body trembling as he succumbed to Han's words.
—-
The next two days passed in the same agonizing pattern. Han became a wreck, his eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights and his hands trembling as he tended to Jet. He had tied a cloth tightly around his head and mouth, but even that wasn't enough to fully block out the intoxicating pheromones that clung to him like a second skin, testing his limits with every breath.
To keep himself from giving in to the primal urges clawing at his mind, Han crafted a makeshift biting guard, fastening it between his teeth to prevent himself from losing control. It was crude but effective, giving him something to focus on as he fought through the haze of instincts threatening to overpower him.
Despite the exhaustion that made his muscles ache and his body feel heavy, Han refused to leave Jet's side. Each time Jet whimpered or shifted, his resolve hardened. "Just a little longer," he thought to himself, though the words sounded hollow against the roaring storm inside him.
Finally, on the morning of the fourth day, Jet's heat broke. The suffocating scent in the air began to fade, replaced by the clean, crisp chill of the forest outside. Jet, utterly drained, fell into a deep sleep, his face peaceful for the first time in days.
Han sat beside him, his back pressed against the wall, staring at the faint sunlight streaming through the small window. Exhaustion weighed on him like a heavy blanket, dragging his eyelids down. The tension in his body finally eased, replaced by a deep sense of relief. They had made it.
Unable to fight his own limits anymore, Han let his head fall back against the wall and drifted into a restless sleep, his body slumped in the corner of the hut.
When Jet woke, the air in the room felt lighter. His body no longer ached, and the feverish haze that had gripped him was gone. He blinked slowly, the dim light filtering through the hut making him squint. For the first time in days, he felt... himself.
Turning his head, he spotted Han slumped against the wall, sound asleep. Han's usually sharp and composed features were softened, his head tilted slightly, and his breathing steady but heavy with exhaustion. Jet's chest tightened at the sight.
Sliding out of the bed quietly, Jet approached Han, crouching beside him. His hand hesitated for a moment before brushing lightly against Han's cheek. The Alpha stirred slightly but didn't wake. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and the faint tension in his brow hinted at the struggle he had endured.
Jet's lips pressed into a thin line, guilt washing over him. He had been barely conscious during his heat, but he could tell how much Han had done for him. The damp cloths, the food, and most of all, the restraint—it was all there in the exhaustion etched into Han's face.
"You stubborn fool," Jet murmured softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself.
Jet stood, grabbing a blanket from the bed and draping it over Han's sleeping form. The Alpha shifted slightly, his body relaxing further under the warmth. Jet lingered for a moment, his fingers brushing against Han's hand before pulling away.
"How can I not love you now?" Jet whispered.