Blessed was the wolf with a Matebond.
But the same couldnât be said for Adele at the moment.
"Are you okay?" the front desk manager asked.
Adele was sweating profusely, looking like she might collapse at any second.
"Iâm good," she snapped, irritation in her voice. "The keys?" She held out her hand stiffly.
"Fine. Room thirteen," the manager said, handing over the keycard. "Down the hall, last on the left."
Adele turned without another word. Right now, her hormones were so all over the place she could snap somebodyâs head.
Big fat thanks to the mating fever.
She had never imagined coming to a place like this, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
After being released from the agency, sheâd used a diffuser to mask her scent so Micah couldnât track her. And then she came here.
A motel was the last place Micah would think sheâd hide. After all, what was a wolf with a Matebond doing in a dump like this?
Yes, she was running from her mate.
Mate? That was hilarious. Was the moon goddess seriously fucking with her?
Of all the werewolves she could be mated to, it had to be him. Why? She didnât want an incubus who had slept his way through the school. He just wasnât her type. How could they possibly be a perfect match?
But she couldnât reject him either. It was said that rejecting oneâs mate was hell. Like tearing out your own soul and living with an ache that never vanished. No matter where you went, no matter what you did, youâd always yearn for that one person.
Adele might not like her choice of a mate, but she couldnât reject him. Not yet. Not until he gave her a damn good reason to. For now, she had to ride out the mating fever and get her mind back before making any decisions.
One might ask, why run if she wasnât going to reject him?
Because most mates marked each other during the throes of passion triggered by the fever. They didnât plan it. It wasnât a choice. It was instinct. Wired into their DNA to claim and be claimed.
That was why mates who hated each other had to reject fast. Because once the fever hit full force, there was no reasoning. Just heat. Just the overwhelming, primal need to fuck like animals.
It was even more laughable that the whole damn point of the fever was procreation.
Adele wasnât ready for a child, especially not with him.
What if the baby took more of his demon traits than werewolf? What if they werenât accepted?
Sheâd heard about Micahâs childhood, the abuse, and the isolation. Even now, he shouldâve taken his place as the next Alpha King, but he was denied the throne because of what he was.
Elijah still watched him like a threat. As if he was something he needed to put on a leash.
Would her child grow up that way as well, rejected by society, feared and suppressed?
No.
She couldnât bring a child into this world just to watch them suffer. She would rather suffer herself.
So Adele dragged her already weak body down the hallway that reeked of bleach, alcoholâand sex.
It didnât help that the place had thin walls. The next room she passed filled the air with the unmistakable sounds of a womanâs moans and flesh slapping against flesh.
"Yes, baby... You have a big fat dick... Aww! Fuck!" The womanâs vocal moans seemed to echo straight from the room and right into Adeleâs ears.
Fuck her life.
Adele groaned, using the wall for support as another surge of heat rushed between her legs.
She moaned in tortured pain.
Thanks to those words, her already messy thoughts conjured a mental image of Micahâs big fat dick plowing through her.
"No!" Adele wailed, dragging herself forward even as her wolf protested loudly in her head. It wanted Micah. It wanted to go back.
But fuck the horny wolf. She was in control of this body, not her.
With a burst of strength, Adele managed to finally reach her door and slammed it shut, locking it behind her. With her back pressed against the door, she sank to the floor, breathing hard.
She had no doubt she looked like a total wreck right now.
As expected of a cheap motel, her room was just as depressing as the rest of the corridor. The air was stale, while the bed was a queen-sized creaking thing with mismatched sheets tucked too tightly over a mattress that had seen better days. A chipped wooden desk stood under the lone window, its blinds half-bent and crooked.
The were a faded beige, cracked in some corners, and the carpet felt sticky under her shoe. However, she had come here to escape from her mate so she wasnât complaining about the quality.
Forcing herself to her feet, Adele staggered toward the bathroom, one hand gripping the wall for balance as the other pushed open the creaking door. The bathroom light flickered twice before staying on, casting a sickly yellow hue across the space.
The single, grimy mirror above the sink greeted her with a distorted reflection of her flushed, fever-stricken face.
But that was none of her business.
Adele reached into her pocket, pulling out a small foil packet with shaky hands and white pills spilled into her palm. It was suppressors in pill form.
Sheâd bought them on her way here, knowing what she might be up against.
Four pills was an overdose by normal standards and though it wouldnât kill her and do itâs work of suppressing her wolf, it still had side effects : Nausea, heart palpitations, and temporary sensory loss.
But sheâd survive.
So Adele tossed the pills into her mouth and dry-swallowed them with a wince. The
bitter taste hit the back of her throat and stayed there.
There was no fixed timeline for the Mating Fever. Some wolves rode it out in a day; others battled through two, maybe three days while the longest known fever on record lasted a full week.
But the most common duration was two days. Adele thought if she could sleep through today, perhaps sheâd have a fighting chance tomorrow.
So Adele dragged herself back to the bed, each step like wading through fire. Her wolf roared in anger but she could feels itâs influence dwindling.
She collapsed onto the sheets, curling in on herself like a wounded animal as the fever pulsed in her veins, hot and angry.
Her hands gripped the pillow like it was an anchor. May the goddess help her.