Page 57 of Shattered Trinket

I don’t understand why I immediately sought him out, but there’s an undeniable comfort in his presence that instantly soothes me. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but being so out in the open in the waiting room made me feel flighty, and Micah is a safe space for me, someone who brings me a lot of comfort just for being himself.

Micah clears his throat awkwardly, trying to turn his head to see Mama Valley, but my face in the crook of his neck makes it difficult. I squeeze my eyes shut when I hear her move until she’s on the other side of the chair, now at my back. I’m trembling, but Micah’s hand on my back soothingly rubbing up and down calms me until I relax back into him with a sigh.

I can hear their voices blending together, but their words are a jumble of meaningless sounds to me. As I bury my face in Micah’s neck, his scent becomes my sole obsession, making me feel increasingly disoriented.

Gods, he smells good.

Need him.

Want him.

I groan in pain when he stands up, my hands clutching him tighter as I wrap my legs around him like a sloth on a tree limb, refusing to let him go. He makes a sound in the back ofhis throat, his hands cautiously coming up to hold my bottom for extra support. My eyes stay closed, my nose in the crook of his neck, and I barely notice when we start moving, not caring where we’re going as long as he keeps touching me.

Before I know it, we’re stopping again, and I flinch when I try to look up to see where we are, only for the lights to be entirely too bright. I whine into Micah’s throat, which makes his hands clench as his muscles bunch.

“Cozy, I need to set you down now. They dimmed the lights for you,” Micah whispers in my ear.

I shake my head, clinging to him even more, and I feel him sigh.

“Can we have a minute?” I hear him ask before the shuffling of feet reaches my ears and then he lowers himself until he’s sitting.

When I peek my eyes back open, I realize it’s a hospital bed, and that he was telling the truth about the lights being dimmed. I lean back in his lap just enough that I can see his face, and I have to blink several times to get myself to focus.

“Do you know what’s happening, Cozette?” he asks, dipping his head slightly to look into my eyes.

I frown at him, feeling a mixture of frustration and discontent as my hands involuntarily explore the contours of his chest, distracting me. I can feel that fog inching its way back into my mind and my vision blurs as thoughts of what he looks like beneath the button-down shirts he’s always wearing when I see him. A pout replaces my frown when one of his hands comes up to grab ahold of both of mine, holding them hostage and stopping my exploration. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, and his throat bobs as he swallows.

“You’re in heat. Something that shouldn’t even be happening since you haven’t had any symptoms or signs the last few weeksleading up to this. If Valley hadn’t told me that you woke up like this, I would have guessed you were at least a day or two into it.”

I frown again, my eyes blinking slowly as his words try to penetrate through that overwhelming fog in my brain.

Heat.

But that’s not possible. The doctors said they weren’t sure if I’d ever have one, and this is nothing like I expected after seeing Ripley last week. She was glowy and excited when she told me I probably wouldn’t see or hear from her for a few days because her heat was coming up. There’s no way she was excited to feel likethis,though, surely.

“No. That’s not… I can’t be inheat,” I mumble, shaking my head, trying to clear away the haze that’s trying to pull me back under.

“You are, and it’s hitting you harder than it should be. That’s why—” he cuts off, grimacing. “That’s why you want me right now. It’s why you can’t stop touching me or-or putting your face against my neck. You’re comfortable with me, and your instincts are pushing you to seek that comfort to make you feel better. Because you know you’re safe with me.”

My brows furrow when I realize he’s implying that the only reason I’m feeling this intense need for him is because I’m in heat. Because that’s not true at all. I mean, maybe it is a little, but I’ve been slowly falling for this alpha for months without even realizing it.

I know I shouldn’t, that it’s unethical, but gods, I want Micah. In fact, he’s the only one I know without a shadow of a doubt that I want wholeheartedly without biology and instincts determining it for me. He’s the one I get to choose all on my own.

Heat or not.

But what if he doesn’t want me? Maybe I’ve read too much into some of his mannerisms when we’ve been together. I was sure that maybe…

I flinch back and his lips thin.

“You don’t want me? Is it my scars? Or-or everything you know about what I went through?” I ask, my voice trembling as tears fill my eyes.

I scramble to move off his lap, embarrassment flooding my senses, but his hands stop me. The need to hide because I just threw myself at him and the feeling of rejection settling heavy in my heart. Something about his words feel like rejection, and as stupid as it is, it hurts my feelings. Micah frowns, holding my hips in place even as I fight to get away.

“Woah, no! Cozy, stop. Listen to me,” he commands, and I freeze, looking at his face with blurry eyes.

He cups my cheeks, looking deep into my eyes.

“I’d be a fool not to want you. You are beautiful and perfect and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. I just— I’m your therapist. You don’t really want me. You just trust me, which I’m so grateful for. But I can’t help you just for you to come out of the heat fog and regret that you asked for me. I’d rather see you as a patient than to never see you again,” he tells me, a pained look filling his eyes.