Not that I care now, I think as the pain slowly subsides, allowing me a moment to breathe.
“Here,” Brooks says firmly, prompting me to turn my face that hides behind my curls.
He’s standing over me with an outstretched arm that leads to a mug in his hand. I notice the wisps of steam curling from the top, and wonder how long I was out for.
It was obviously long enough for him to prepare a piping hot, steaming mug of herbal tea.
“I heard this helps reduce the pain of a she-wolf’s heat,” he says, nodding to the mug.
I sit up again, tentatively reaching out to take the mug. I’ll do anything to avoid the obvious cure for my heat, and sip on the tea as I mumble, “Of course you’d know.”
“I am an alpha, Rissa. It’s my job to know these things,” Brooks chuckles, and I feel myself blushing through the dampness of my feverish sweat.
I didn’t think he’d heard me…
The chamomile and lavender essence in the tea is what calms me down, letting the pain slip away into a mild, dull ache while my fever continues to burn my body. Brooks’s immense presence as he watches me forces me to look away, a word of gratitude hanging on the tip of my tongue.
He doesn’t deserve my kindness, but I can’t help it. I’m always the over-giver, the one caring about others before myself, and I end up turning my face to him as I clutch both hands around the warm mug.
“Have your injuries healed?” I ask, deducing that not much time has passed since we’d found shelter in the safehouse. The hut is still covered in darkness. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
Brooks shifts uncomfortably on the chair he’s perched on, a frown flitting over his face. “It was kinda hard to get anyrest while you were tossing and turning and making all kinds of noises.”
I gulp hard, letting my eyes drop to the mug as I absentmindedly swirl what’s left inside. “Hmph,” I huff under my breath, hating the awkward silence that stretches and Brooks’s looming presence not far from me.
“I have healed, though,” he finally reveals with a sniff. “Whatever you did must have quickened the process.”
“I didn’t do anything special,” I murmur, to which Brooks scoffs.
“Maybe it’s something you’re not aware of yet, but it worked nonetheless.”
I turn my eyes slowly toward him, thankful for the veil of unruly curls that hang on the side of my face. It’s not like I needed the reminder of my special gifts. I have no idea how they’re tied to my healing abilities, if they are at all. I just don’t want to think about it right now, still adamant to escape the clause that binds me to the Snehvolk Pack with this magic.
My overthinking brain is abruptly cut off from thinking up ways to escape when I’m hit by a flurry of pain once again. The mug falls out of my hands when a bolt of agony shoots through me with such intensity that I fling myself face-first onto the bed. My cries extend beyond the shattering ceramic on the floor, and I clutch my belly as I wail.
“P-please!” I pleaded as if crying out for the Moon Goddess’s salvation through this unbearable torture. Writhing in torment and sobbing, my throat becomes dry as if I’m hauled back into that dream I just woke up from, and I’m back in the treacherous fire.
My savior comes once again as a hand on my shoulder, providing enough comfort to be noticeable through the pain. Squirming and wheezing, I look up to find Brooks hovering above me, his mere presence alarmingly soothing at this time.
His silver eyes are glazed over with earnest concern, his brows knitted as if he can’t stand to see me in so much pain. As much as he’s comforting, I hate that it has to be like this, that it has to be my worst enemy worrying over me.
“Rissa,” he says gently, but another lick of pain forces me to turn my face away and focus on getting a semblance of control over it.
“Not now, Brooks! Just leave me alone!” I wail, wanting to escape the pain, wanting to escape him, but not sure how to achieve either.
“I can help you, Rissa…”
I shake my head fervently, not wanting that kind of solution.
I hate Brooks, and I won’t sleep with him, even if I’m on my deathbed.
“No! Just leave me alone! I told you—hng! I told you I’ll never sleep with you!”
“You wouldn’t have to sleep with me, Rissa. I wouldn’t even take my clothes off.”
Something about his statement sounds genuine, prompting me to turn fully and pull my hair back to reveal my frown.
“Wh-what will you do, then?” I mutter, and Brooks sighs as he sinks to his knees, maintaining enough distance to show that he isn’t trying to be forceful.
