"Ugh!" Zalyric groaned in pain, his voice breaking as his thick, intoxicating pheromones spread through the bedchamber like a heavy fog.
His breathing was ragged and his body trembling beneath the thin fabric of his nightrobe that clung to his flushed skin. The sheets were tangled beneath him, soaked with sweat as waves of heat pulsed through his veins. He clutched at his chest, eyes half-lidded while trying to endure the relentless ache consuming him from within.
He knew what was happening—his rut had come just as it always did but this time felt worse, sharper and hungrier.
It clawed at his insides, demanding release and demanding touch yet what puzzled him most was the fact that he hadn't called for Evan to bring him an omega like he usually did. He had known this was coming as the signs were clear days ago.
Normally, he would have prepared or made arrangements and choose someone to help him ride it out but instead, he had done nothing.
Why?
