Diego
Not feeling well…It's my birthday. My 18th birthday. A day I should be celebrating with joy, laughter, and my friends.
But here I am—Curled up in bed.Body drenched in heat. Inside and out. A slow-burning ache spreading from my skin to somewhere deeper.
"Gosh, Diego! You're hot," Lucas says, worry thick in his voice as he pulls his hand from my forehead.
"I don't feel good…" I mumble, curling tighter into myself.
I can't explain what this is. It's not just a fever. It's something else. Something alive. Something growing inside me. Invisible. Unfamiliar. Crawling beneath my skin.
"It reads here that you'll feel better in less than three hours," Jules says, flipping through a book in his hands, "unless you already have a mate who can scent mark you to ease the heat."
My eyes blur as I try to focus on him. He's standing next to Lucas. Their concern is heavy in the room.
Lucas's face—He looks… maternal almost. Gentle, panicked.A face I never got from my mother.
