Chapter 77 Dirk's Heat

• Dirk awoke to an empty bed, the room enveloped in a chill carried by the evening breeze that delicately brushed against his skin. Fatigue weighed heavily on his muscles as he pushed himself up, bracing his frame with an elbow to glance behind him. The drawn curtains allowed the insistent wind to invade the room. Feeling too weary to rise and secure the billowing fabric, he sensed the encroaching cold. The lateness of the hour hinted that Tricc may have departed to attend to Pack affairs. With effort, Dirk maneuvered into an upright position before navigating toward the windows. His steps faltered, vision momentarily clouded, prompting a pause to rub his eyes in a futile bid to restore clarity.
• At the window, he tugged at the curtains. As he endeavored to fasten them shut, a sudden sharp pang seized his lower abdomen, forcing him to collapse to his knees, the intensity of the pain reverberating through his body. Clutching his midsection, his hands grazed the searing ache, offering no respite. The once-cool breeze metamorphosed into a stifling heat, inducing beads of perspiration to form along his brow and neck. Gasping for air, Dirk retreated to the bed, where Tricc's shirt lay beside him. Grasping the fabric, he brought it to his face, drawing in the familiar scent of his mate in a bid to stave off a cry of anguish.
• Perplexed by the unfolding discomfort, a question lingered in his mind: What was happening? His heat was not anticipated for another few days, and his other mates would have returned by then. Yet, this sensation—this was not the expected course of events for him at this moment.