Hollow Heat

Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, the cold air of the bedroom hit Saskia’s damp skin, raising goosebumps along her arms. She ignored the chill, mechanically pulling a simple, elegant grey silk nighty over her head. The cool fabric slid down her thighs, offering a stark contrast to the boiling dread pooling in her stomach. She stared at the closed door, mentally bracing herself to endure the next four grueling days of her biological heat.

This cycle felt wrong. It felt broken. Two years ago, her heat meant hours of raw, intense, and deeply passionate connection with Dominic. It meant locking the bedroom door and fighting their own wolves for dominance. He would pin her to the mattress, bury his thick cock deep inside her dripping pussy, and pound into her until they were both slick with sweat and gasping for air. The primal mating instinct would take over, binding their souls tighter with every hard thrust.

Now, the sacred ritual had tragically deteriorated into a rushed, mechanical thirty-minute chore.

They had sex just before she showered. Her body had gone through the hollow motions mandated by their wolfen biology. Her pussy had grown wet, her hips had bucked to take his heavy length, and her biological urges demanded friction. But her mind had wandered far away. She had stared at a crack in the ceiling, feeling his heavy balls slapping against her ass, feeling him grunt as he pumped his seed inside her, and she felt nothing but a clinical detachment.

The devastating realization hit her like a physical blow. Their sacred mate bond was tangibly dwindling. For two years, Dominic had prioritized his second mate, pouring his affection and feral lust into Kelsie, and the neglect was eroding the very foundation of Saskia’s soul. A deep, physical ache squeezed tightly in her chest, sharp and breathless. She walked over to the full-length mirror and stared at her own reflection. Her dark eyes looked flat. The fire was gone. She seriously wondered if her heart had already turned cold to the man who held exactly half her soul.

Needing caffeine to wash down the bitter taste in her mouth, she left the bedroom and walked down the hall to the kitchen. The scent of roasted coffee beans hung in the air.

Dominic stood at the stove. He was naked except for a dark cooking apron tied around his narrow waist. His broad, muscular back shifted as he adjusted a pan on the burner. The raw masculinity of his form used to send a spike of wet heat straight to her core, but today, she just felt tired.

She poured a fresh mug of dark roast and stepped up beside him, silently handing him the steaming cup.

He turned, taking the mug. A tentative, hopeful smile touched his lips. But the second his eyes met hers, taking in her blank expression, that smile faded away.

The painful ache in her chest returned with a vengeance. An intrusive, dark thought clawed its way into her brain. As he stood there in his apron, acting the part of the dutiful mate, he likely secretly wished it was Kelsie’s heat he was attending to instead of hers. He probably wished he was burying his cock in the younger girl, satisfying a mate who still looked at him with starry-eyed worship.

A sharp, involuntary breath of emotional pain escaped Saskia’s lips.

His sharp Alpha hearing caught the sound instantly. He whipped around, the coffee sloshing dangerously close to the rim of his mug. Deep worry laced his heavy bass voice. "What is wrong?"

Saskia masked her internal devastation behind a practiced wall of calm. She casually rubbed the center of her chest, right over the aching bond, and lied without missing a beat. "Swallowed the hot coffee too fast. It burned going down."

He narrowed his eyes. He watched her face intensely for a long moment, searching her features for the truth. The mate bond might be fading, but he still knew when she was hiding something. Yet, he chose not to push. He turned back to the hot stove, picking up an un-cracked egg in his large hand.

He stared at the white shell, his brow furrowing. "How do you want your eggs cooked?" he asked, his tone cautious.

"Same as always," she replied quietly.

She leaned against the marble counter and watched him. He stood frozen, staring blankly at the egg. He was searching through twenty solid years of deeply ingrained memory. Twenty years of making her breakfast, of knowing her routine, of knowing her heart. And those decades of history were now tragically eclipsed by his relentless focus on his new mate’s daily preferences.

The silence stretched, turning thick and painful in the large kitchen. The hiss of the burner and the hum of the refrigerator filled the void.

Saskia mercifully broke the quiet. Her voice held no anger, only a flat, clinical truth. "I do not eat eggs, Dominic. I guess Kelsie must be the one who does."

Realizing his massive blunder, Dominic’s shoulders slumped. He murmured instinctively, "Scrambled eggs with pepper and no salt."

He recited Kelsie's exact order like it was carved into his brain. He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. He looked down at the floor, sheepishly admitting his failure. "Sorry. I forgot you do not like them."

Saskia’s response dripped with cold resignation. She did not yell. She did not throw her mug at his head. That would require energy she no longer possessed.

"It happens," she remarked coldly, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. "Having two Mates must be incredibly difficult for your brain to recall what they both like."

She pushed off the marble counter, heading straight for the kitchen door to leave his stifling presence. She tossed her actual breakfast order over her shoulder, her voice echoing in the space.

"Extra crispy bacon. A side of Halloumi cheese. A piece of toasted cob loaf."

She paused at the doorway, delivering a biting caveat just in case he forgot everything else about her existence. "And please, do not fry your sunny-side-up eggs in the same pan as my bacon or cheese. I hate that."

Saskia walked into the quiet living area and sat down on the plush leather sofa. The massive windows offered a view of the pack training grounds, but her sharp mind was drifting backward. She rested her mug on her knee, letting the silence wrap around her.

This exact type of relationship amnesia had ruined her recent birthday.

Just a few weeks ago, Dominic had enthusiastically planned to celebrate her special day. He had grand designs, wanting to sweep her away for a lavish night out. She had flatly and aggressively refused him.

She remembered marching into his Alpha office. The heavy oak door had clicked shut behind her as she approached his mahogany desk. She had slapped a printed piece of paper down right over his pack reports.

It was a forty-thousand-dollar credit card bill.

The charges were generated from Kelsie’s outrageous, reckless birthday shopping spree. Designer clothes, imported perfumes, luxury spa treatments—an endless list of useless garbage funded by the pack’s hard-earned treasury.

Utilizing her unmatched authority as the pack accountant, Saskia had stared him down. "We will plunge straight back into the financial red if you keep recklessly spoiling Kelsie with pack funds," she had warned him sternly. "Are you out of your mind?"

Dominic had frowned, trying to justify the catastrophic spending. He claimed an Alpha should spoil his mate on her birthday.

Saskia had cut him down with clinical precision. She reminded him of their own past agreements. A simple dinner, a single thoughtful gift, a strict budget. But now, Kelsie was draining their accounts, ignorant of the pack's gritty financial history.

As penance for his blatant irresponsibility, Saskia demanded a radically simple, incredibly cheap dinner for her own birthday. She looked him right in the eye, offering a brutal compromise. She would take the financial hit for the pack this year. She wanted a basic meal from the packhouse dining room.

But she added one strict, unbending condition.

"No mind-links from your second mate," Saskia had demanded. "Just the two of us. Without Kelsie's constant interruptions. Let us see if she can control herself for two hours while you spend time with me."

Just as Saskia predicted, the night had been an unmitigated disaster.

She sat at the table in the private dining room. Her birthday dinner cost a meager one hundred and fifty dollars. That covered a small cake and a bouquet of cut flowers Dominic had purchased. There were no gifts. She had forbidden him from spending more money on her just to alleviate his guilt for fucking Kelsie in her bed.

She had just sliced into her steak when Dominic’s eyes glazed over. His jaw tightened.

The unmistakable sign of a mind-link.

Saskia dropped her knife onto her porcelain plate. The clatter echoed in the quiet room. She looked at the clock on the wall and laughed a loud, mocking laugh.

"Twenty minutes," she noted, pointing her silver fork at him. "That is all it took for Kelsie to break the rule. You swore she does not do it on purpose. Sure."

Kelsie intentionally mind-linked him three separate times during that short, agonizing meal. The young girl knew damn well not to disturb the Alpha when he was spending private time with the Luna, yet she could not stand the thought of Dominic paying attention to anyone else.

The disastrous night ultimately ended with Saskia forcefully walking herself back to her lonely room. There was no romance. No late-night walk. No sex.

Because the very second they stepped out of the heavy double doors of the private dining room, Kelsie was waiting. The young girl physically latched onto Dominic’s arm like a desperate leech, pressing her breasts against his bicep, whining about needing his attention.

Recalling the scene now, sitting on the living room sofa, Saskia remembered the exact sequence of events.

She had stopped on the grand staircase, looking down at the pathetic display. She smiled sweetly up at Dominic, her voice ringing out in the massive foyer.

"Interruption number four," she announced loudly.

She tilted her head, locking eyes with the younger girl. "I am going to deliberately tag along on Kelsie's next birthday exactly the way she just ruined mine."

Kelsie’s face had flushed with indignation. The second mate arrogantly muttered under her breath, "You certainly will not be allowed to do that."

That smug little whisper was the final straw.

Dominic’s frayed temper finally snapped. The Alpha aura exploded from him in a suffocating wave of dominance. He glared down at the younger girl, his eyes flashing with raw wolfish fury.

"Fuck off," he grated out, the harsh words echoing off the high ceilings.

He ripped his arm out of Kelsie’s grasp, stormed down the hallway, and slammed his way into his Alpha office. The heavy door banged shut with bone-rattling force.

A terrifying, dead silence fell over the grand packhouse.

Remembering the moment, Saskia took a slow sip of her coffee. She had simply looked down at Kelsie’s utterly shocked, tear-filled expression from her position on the stairs. The young girl was trembling, tears spilling over her cheeks, realizing she had pushed the Alpha too far.

Saskia had smiled a victorious, cold smile, turned on her heel, and walked away.

She knew with absolute certainty that the second mate had not only interrupted her birthday strictly on purpose out of petty jealousy, but in doing so, Kelsie had effectively and completely sabotaged the rest of Dominic's romantic plans for the night as well.