13: Sickness and killer thoughts

"I'm tired and I'm sick to death of being without you."

-Graham Greene, 'The End Of The Affair'

***

It had been a gruelling two weeks without a day off, and the absence of Blake from my life only added to my discontent.

The recent successful assault on the rogue adversaries, executed skillfully by Blake's pack, had momentarily provided a glimmer of relief. Once we had thoroughly ensured that the threat had been eradicated and our safety restored, we were granted permission to depart. I wasted no time, swiftly departing from the premises within a mere ten minutes of receiving the assuring news alongside Nova.

I couldn't entirely blame anyone but myself for the situation. I had chosen to create distance between Blake, my dad, and me. The revelations about my life had been overwhelming, and in order to distract myself from the shock and uncertainty, I had thrown myself into work.

Well, that was the plan, at least.

In truth, my life had been turned upside down, and the few "shocking things" I didn't know about had turned out to be major bombshells. My entire existence felt like a lie, leaving me on the brink of losing my sanity. To cope, I had become a workaholic, filling my days with a relentless schedule that left me with barely enough time to use the restroom. I cringed at the memory of almost wetting myself due to the sheer lack of breaks.

Today, however, was different. After feeling slightly feverish for the past day, I woke up feeling like death itself—a sensation I doubted the deceased could truly experience. This fever had turned me into a bumbling mess, my mental faculties dulled by the heat raging within me. When I shared my concerns with Nova, she dismissively assured me that I had always been like that, causing a mix of annoyance and affection to well up within me. In an attempt to make up for her rudeness, she insisted I stay home and took it upon herself to care for me.

Nova's methods, however, bordered on madness. Mistaking my attempt to use the bathroom for an escape, she had pushed me back onto the bed, locked all the windows and doors, and positioned herself as my vigilant guardian. The memory of nearly wetting myself replayed in my mind, but this time, it had occurred just half an hour ago. It was beyond comprehension why she thought I would flee in such a miserable state. Yet, I managed to convince her of my genuine need and finally made my way to the bathroom, wondering how on earth I had achieved such a feat.

Nova had confiscated my car keys and checked on me incessantly, not out of genuine concern for my well-being, but to ensure that I didn't sneak off to work. Her frantic behaviour resembled that of a headless chicken, and though I couldn't help but fantasise about removing her head, my upbringing discouraged me from resorting to violence—though occasional slips were always possible. After all, if a body were never found, who would ever know?

"I'm going crazy," I whispered to myself, chuckling at the absurdity of the situation. However, my fever decided to throw a tantrum at that very moment. Nova walked into my room, bringing with her a bowl of soup.

"I brought you some soup. You better eat this one, you didn't eat the last one I bought, talking about how it tastes like cow dung."She placed it on my side table, her words barely registering in my pain-addled mind. It seemed my body temperature had skyrocketed to unimaginable levels, and I questioned whether an ice bath would even help.

"Nova," I moaned in agony, my voice strained.

"How do you even know what cow dung tastes like?" Nova questioned, her attention seemed momentarily diverted, likely having missed my earlier remark.

"Nova!" I called out, raising my voice a tad. The immediate consequence of that action was an intensified wave of pain that gripped me, causing me to double over.

She turned her attention to me, a concerned expression etched on her face. "Are you okay?"

The pain surged once again, overwhelming me to the point where I found it difficult to maintain composure. Doubled over, I strained to form words through the torment that gripped my body.

"I'm calling an ambulance! I won't let you die in this house, and I certainly won't go to jail for it!" Nova exclaimed, reaching for her phone.

Her voice melded with the excruciating sensations coursing through my body, but I could only catch snippets of her conversation. "Please hurry," she pleaded before ending the call.

"Just hold on, help is on the way," she reassured me, her voice filled with anxiety.

Minutes later, I heard the front door slam open and hurried footsteps ascending the stairs. I glanced at Nova with wide, worried eyes. Was this the end? Had a robber broken in? Or worse, was it the FBI, discovering my transgressions involving cheese fries while on a diet?

"Alpha Blake?" Nova called out, her voice filled with surprise.

I raised my head and locked eyes with the man I hadn't seen in two weeks. Worry flickered in his gaze, but a darker emotion seemed to ignite within him—lust. Here I was, on the verge of death, and he was getting turned on. What a peculiar individual.

"Blake? What are you doing here?" I managed to question, dismissing the thought of FBI involvement. The fever had claimed my thoughts, leaving little room for conspiracy theories.

"He was with me," my dad interjected as he entered the room. "I told him you were sick, and he came along."

I arched an eyebrow, my scepticism apparent. "You called my dad instead of calling an ambulance?" I directed the question at Nova, my voice laced with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. The pain gnawed at my insides, adding an edge to my words.

Nova hesitated for a moment before responding, her eyes darting between me and the untouched bowl of soup on the side table. "I thought it wouldn't be the best idea to call an ambulance," she finally replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I... I thought you might be going through something supernatural. That's why."

Her explanation hung in the air, mingling with the heaviness of the room. The notion of something supernatural only added to the enigma that had become my life. What had once been familiar and mundane had now spiralled into a realm of uncertainty and hidden truths. And in the midst of it all, I couldn't escape the magnetism between Blake and me—the undeniable pull that transcended logic and reason.

Blake began to approach me, but my dad intervened. "Are you sure you can control yourself? She's in heat, and the urge to mate with her will be stronger for you, given that she is your mate."

"What? Skye is his mate!" Nova exclaimed, shock evident in her voice.

How did you think I felt? Confused, betrayed, angry, and in pain—yes, all of those emotions were swirling inside me. I was bewildered by the revelation that Blake was my mate, betrayed that both he and my dad had kept it from me, angry that yet another secret had been concealed, and in excruciating pain as my body continued to burn up. Each passing moment only intensified the heat.

"She's in pain. I can restrain myself," Blake assured my dad, his words filled with determination. "I'm the only one who can make her feel better."

My dad nodded in agreement, though Blake had already swept me into his arms. I couldn't deny that being held by him provided some relief, as my temperature seemed to dip slightly, and the ache in my body subsided, if only a little. However, an unexpected consequence arose—I was growing increasingly aroused.

Just a tiny bit, I swear. Well, perhaps not so tiny.

"I suppose an ice bath would also help, given that she's in heat. I'll fetch some ice," Nova exclaimed before quickly leaving the room.

Once the bath was filled with ice, Blake gently placed me into it. The absence of his body pressed against mine caused my temperature to spike, as if I were being engulfed in flames. The pain reverberated throughout my body, akin to being repeatedly stabbed. Frankly, this agony surpassed any period cramps I had ever experienced, and trust me, those were no joke.

Thankfully, Blake climbed into the bath behind me, drawing me close to him with his arms wrapped around my waist. His face nestled between my neck and shoulder, offering a welcome respite from the torment. I sighed in relief as the heat and pain gradually subsided, thanks in part to the ice, but predominantly due to Blake's presence. However, I couldn't ignore the growing ache between my legs—a sensation that felt foreign and inexplicable.

What on earth was happening to me?

"We'll give you some space," my dad declared, leading Nova out of the room.

Blake appeared oblivious to their departure, his focus consumed by sucking and biting at my neck. The sensations drove me to the brink of madness.

"What are you doing?" I managed to utter, attempting to resist a moan as he discovered my sweet spot.

"Why have you been ignoring me?" he inquired, his hot breath grazing my neck and eliciting shivers.

"I don't know what you mean," I whispered hoarsely, my attempts to resist his advances faltering.

He abruptly ceased his tantalising actions. "Why did you stop?" I groaned, my voice a mix of pleasure and frustration.

"What do you mean?" he countered, turning me to face him. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and his eyes, already darkened with desire, seemed impossibly darker.

"Do you want me to continue?" he asked, his gaze locked with mine, his words dripping with teasing intent.

I swallowed hard, the room pulsating with tension. His gaze held an unmistakable question, and the desire that emanated from him was palpable. I yearned to rip his clothes off and engage in deeds that certainly wouldn't be considered holy.

"Do you want me to continue?" he pressed, teasingly biting my lower lip.

I nodded in response.

"Words, Skylar," he insisted.

Normally, I despised being addressed by my full name, but when he said it, it rolled off his tongue with such seductive allure. It made me melt.

"I want you to pleasure me," I whispered, locking my gaze with his.

"Your wish is my command."

He drew me closer, attacking my mouth with a ferocious hunger. His tongue seamlessly explored every corner of my mouth, devouring me as if I were his last meal. In response, I bit his lip, playfully tugging on it, eliciting a moan from him. I revelled in the power I held over his senses.

Just as the intensity between us escalated and he began to remove my soaked, oversized T-shirt, the bathroom door was flung open.

"I brought some more ice—oh my living daylights! My eyes! My innocent eyes!" Nova's shrill scream pierced the air.

I glanced at her for a fleeting moment, shaking my head with a small chuckle. My attention swiftly returned to Blake, his eyes still brimming with lust, yet he seemed burdened by an unspoken question.

I raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging him to ask whatever was on his mind.

"What did you mean when you said the FBI wouldn't care if you ate cheese fries on your diet?" he inquired.

Did I say that out loud?

"Yes, you did," he confirmed, a hint of amusement lacing his tone.

Did I say that out loud too?

"Yes, and you're still doing it," Nova chimed in, laughter dancing in her voice.

"Shut up, cockblocker!" I exclaimed, my irritation surfacing.

"Well, excuse me for thinking you were still in pain and trying to help," she retorted, glaring at me.

I truly believe you could never win with Nova, I pondered.

"Why are you looking at me like that? You look crazy," Nova quipped.

"Nothing," I replied with a smirk.

Just as I mentioned earlier, as long as the body remains undiscovered.

"Absolutely nothing at all."