Margot POV
I poured everything into the presentation.
Sleep, food, the works—I'd been running on fumes for days.
Exhaustion sat heavy in my bones, and my appetite had flatlined.
At first, I chalked it up to pure overwork.
Three days in, the truth hit like a cold slap: the restlessness under my skin, the low ache in my lower belly, the way every breath felt a fraction too sharp.
Every adult omega knows those early warning signs. Heat was coming.
Most omegas ran on a clean three- to four-month cycle.
Mine had always been sparse, once or maybe twice a year, usually when the weather turned warm.
Winter heat was rare without an external trigger.
Alpha scent could force it: pure animal genetics at work.
Pups born in deep cold didn’t survive as easily, so nature mostly shut the door.
