POV: Dante
The moment the doctor says "heat," the air changes.
It's not just the word. It's Aurora's body responding to it. Her pupils dilate, her breathing quickens. The scent rises another level, denser, more urgent. My wolf pushes beneath my skin as if someone had pulled its chain.
Herrera continues speaking, professional.
"It's not the peak yet," she explains, "but it's the beginning. We're going to help you get through this without your body going into shock.
She leaves a small box on the nightstand.
"These capsules lower the intensity a little," she says. "They don't shut it down. It's not good to shut it down completely. The body will make up for it in other ways."
Aurora nods, but she seems distant. As if she were listening from inside a fishbowl.
"How long will it last?" she asks, her voice lower.
"Days," Herrera replies. "The worst part, hours. Today, I want you to just think about getting to tomorrow."
She takes her wrist. Fast pulse. Normal course.
