My skin burned.
Not with a gentle, pleasant warmth but with an unbearable fire that seemed to consume me from the inside out. I pressed my palms against my flushed cheeks, feeling the heat radiating off my body in waves.
"It's starting," I whispered to myself, my voice trembling.
I'd heard about the first heat from other wolves—how overwhelming it could be, how it could strip away your dignity and self-control. But nothing had prepared me for this reality. Every nerve ending in my body felt like a live wire. The brush of silk sheets against my skin was almost painful in its intensity.
A knock at the door made me flinch.
"Come in," I called, my voice barely audible.
Two young women—different from Stella and Ana—entered, carrying garments draped over their arms. Their eyes widened slightly when they saw me huddled on the bed, my hair stuck to my sweat-dampened forehead.
