Alpha's Dark Desires
Chapter 122: Heat(II)

Chapter 122: Heat(II)

Elena POV:

Breakfast with Kane had started off surprisingly normal, considering the chaos that was my life lately. His goofy antics and warm presence helped me momentarily forget the horrors of the night before. The nightmare—or more accurately, the vision—lingered at the edge of my mind, a constant, suffocating reminder of what had transpired.

Then the star of that very nightmare appeared.

Dean zoomed into the dining room without so much as a knock or an announcement. Of course, I shouldn’t have expected him to. The air in the room shifted instantly, and a shiver ran down my spine. My hand gripped my fork tightly as I fought to stay composed.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Kane growled, his voice dripping with fury.

Dean, as always, remained completely unbothered by Kane’s rage. Instead, he zipped into the kitchen at vampiric speed, reappearing moments later with a plate of pancakes and a glass of juice. He casually sat down at the table, acting like he owned the place.

"I came to see how our mate is faring," Dean said smoothly, his sharp gaze landing on me.

That look—God, that knowing look—set my blood on fire, but not in a good way. He knew. The bastard knew. He was talking about the nightmare, the one that wasn’t really a nightmare. Somehow, someway, Dean had invaded my mind. He’d turned me into a puppet, controlling me, trapping me, making me feel things I didn’t want to feel.

It had been too vivid, too real to dismiss as just a bad dream. The sensation of his hands, his voice, his kiss—it all lingered, taunting me even now.

I wanted to scream, to demand answers, but my throat felt dry, and my mind was spinning too fast. Instead, I found myself distracted by the oddest thing: Dean eating.

One minute, I was casually eating pancakes and marveling at the absurdity of my life, and the next, I was staring at Dean as he gulped down pancakes like a starved man.

Do vampires eat?

The question slipped out before I could stop myself. "How are you even able to eat that?"

Dean looked up mid-bite, his lips twitching into an amused grin. He chewed deliberately before answering, savoring the moment as if it was some grand joke. "I’m not a regular vampire, sweetheart," he said, leaning back in his chair.

I blinked, confused and irritated. "What does that even mean?"

"It means," he continued, gesturing at Kane, "I’m a part of him. All the vulnerabilities of vampires don’t apply to me. Sunlight, garlic, holy water—it’s all meaningless to me. I’m practically human, just with all the perks of being a vampire and none of the downsides."

I stared at him, trying to wrap my head around his words. "So... you’re like some sort of invincible vampire?"

"Exactly," he said, his grin widening. "Pretty cool, huh?"

Cool wasn’t exactly the word I’d use, but I didn’t say that out loud. Instead, I tried to focus on my pancakes, ignoring the way he and Kane were practically bristling at each other across the table.

Kane, on the other hand, looked ready to explode. His fists clenched, and his jaw tightened as he glared at Dean. "You’re not welcome here," he spat.

Dean shrugged, completely unfazed. "C’mon, Kane. Mom would be disappointed in you. Don’t you know sharing is caring?"

The casual way he mentioned Mom made my stomach churn. Kane’s growl reverberated through the room, low and dangerous. "Don’t you dare call her that," he snapped, his voice thick with rage and grief.

Dean, as always, ignored him. He continued eating like nothing had happened, as if he wasn’t the walking embodiment of chaos.

I sat there, caught between the storm brewing between the two of them and the weight of my own turbulent thoughts. Dean’s presence was a reminder of last night, of the control he had over me, and the way he seemed to revel in it.

I gritted my teeth, trying to block out his smug expression and the panic rising in my chest. Whatever Dean was planning, whatever game he was playing, I needed to find a way to stop him.

But first, I needed to survive breakfast.

By the way, did I mention how absolutely insane it is to have two people who look exactly the same sitting in the same room? It’s like staring into a mirror with a distorted reflection. One side—the real Kane—radiated warmth and steadiness, even when he was furious. The other—Dean—was all smirks and mischief, like a storm that could destroy everything in its path but looked damn good while doing it.

It was unnerving.

And honestly, exhausting.

I thought breakfast would be the worst of it—awkward and tense, with Dean pushing all the wrong buttons and Kane barely holding himself together. But I was wrong.

So, so wrong.

The first sign was subtle, like a flicker of warmth that didn’t belong. I brushed it off as discomfort, given how tense the morning had been. But the warmth turned into heat, an unbearable blaze that spread through my body like wildfire. My skin felt like it was burning—not the feverish kind of warmth, but something primal and consuming.

I gasped, clutching the edge of the table, but the world tilted, and my knees gave out. I hit the floor hard, groaning, my body convulsing as the sensation intensified. My skin was slick with sweat, and every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire.

"Elena!" Kane’s voice broke through the haze, sharp and panicked. He was beside me in seconds, his hands on my shoulders as he tried to steady me.

But I couldn’t focus on him, on anything. The pain was overwhelming, but there was something else underneath it—an unbearable need clawing at my insides. My mind was a mess of conflicting sensations, torn between the agony and an inexplicable, insatiable desire to be claimed, to be marked.

"Fuck," I groaned, my voice raw and trembling. "I—I think... I think I’m going into heat."

Kane froze for a moment, his wide eyes locking with mine as the realization dawned on him. His face contorted in a mix of concern, fear, and something darker—something his wolf was clearly struggling to suppress.

"Elena," he said hoarsely, his voice tight with strain, "I need to get you somewhere safe. Away from... him."

Dean’s laughter echoed in the room, low and smug. "Well, well, looks like things just got interesting," he drawled, leaning casually against the counter like this was his favorite show.

"Get the fuck out, Dean!" Kane snarled, his voice a deep, guttural growl that made the air in the room vibrate.

But Dean didn’t move. Instead, he watched me, his sharp, predatory gaze sending shivers down my spine. "She’s in heat, brother," he said, his tone almost teasing. "You really think you can handle this without losing control? You’re already struggling, and we both know it."

Kane ignored him, his focus solely on me. He scooped me up effortlessly, cradling me against his chest as I whimpered, clutching at his shirt. His scent was intoxicating, and it only fueled the fire raging inside me. I pressed my face into his neck, desperate for relief, for something to ease the ache consuming me.

"Kane," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "It hurts... please..."

His body tensed, and I could feel the battle he was waging within himself. His wolf was clawing at the surface, desperate to respond to my plea, but Kane’s resolve was iron.

"I’ve got you," he murmured, his voice strained. "I’ll take care of you, Elena. Just hold on."

As he carried me toward the stairs, Dean’s voice rang out behind us. "If you need help, you know where to find me," he said, his tone laced with amusement.

Kane didn’t stop, didn’t look back, but his growl reverberated through the house, a clear warning to stay away.

I barely registered anything else. The heat, the ache, the overwhelming need—it drowned out everything else. All I knew was that I needed Kane, needed his touch, his mark, to make it stop.

But even through the haze, a small, terrified part of me wondered if Kane could hold on—if either of us could.

Wherever Kane’s hands touched, the unbearable heat subsided, if only for a fleeting moment. It was like his touch held some magic, a balm against the raging inferno inside me. I clung to those moments of relief, even as they slipped away the second his hands moved.

Through the haze of my burning need, I thought I heard Kane’s voice—angry, forceful, commanding Dean to leave. My mind could barely hold onto the words, too consumed by the overwhelming sensations coursing through my body.

The next thing I knew, I was submerged in cold water.

The shock of it jolted me, dragging me back from the edge of madness. I gasped, my body shuddering as the icy chill pierced through the oppressive heat. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I could breathe.

I blinked, trying to focus through the steam and the fog clouding my mind. The cool water lapped against my skin, a soothing contrast to the fire raging inside me. For a brief, blissful moment, it felt like I could think again, like I had a grip on myself.

Kane knelt beside the tub, his hands resting on the edge as he watched me intently. His face was etched with worry, his jaw tight, his wolf barely contained. I could see it in his eyes—the struggle to stay in control, to protect me without succumbing to the primal instincts clawing at him.

"Elena," he said softly, his voice trembling slightly. "I’m here. I’ve got you."

I nodded weakly, unable to form words, but my gaze met his, and I hoped he understood my silent gratitude.

The relief didn’t last long. The water cooled my skin, but it couldn’t quench the inferno inside me. The heat flared again, pulsing through me with renewed intensity. My back arched involuntarily, and a strangled cry escaped my lips.