Page 25 of Alpha's Revenge Luna
My stomach twists in knots, and the pain of the Belladonna is excruciating. It never hurt like this before, but the cramping won’t stop. I twist in pain on the bed. My body writhes as I sweat profusely.
Is this a punishment from my wolf who is due to come forward tonight? Or maybe I’m killing my wolf, and that is why such pain. So many thoughts occupy my mind at once, however, each one is swept away as another wave of pain coils in my stomach and twists my limbs.
My ears ring, and I regret taking the Belladonna. Grandma never mentioned it would hurt like this. Does this mean something is wrong? I expected the nausea and discomfort, but this? I feel like she would’ve mentioned this.
Sliding off the bed, I crawl toward the bathroom, intending to shower to see if it helps.
I make it to the door, my hands leaving marks on the tiled floors as the sweat drips from me.
Suddenly, an arm wraps around my waist and someone scoops me up.
I shriek in fright, only for his scent to hit me.
It’s intoxicating, and instantly his scent soothes the agony ripping through me.
Instinctively, I bury my face in his neck, my tongue raking along it. I moan at the taste of his skin, my legs wrapping around him. “You’re burning up,” he tells me, however, by the tone of his voice, he sounds worried.
“You smell different, too,” he purrs, gripping my hair, and tilting my head to the side, he runs his nose along my neck to the back of my ear. He grabs my face, prying my top lip up.
“No canines, though?” he murmurs thoughtfully, shaking his head. He moves, and my ears ring, the room spinning. “Emery?” he murmurs. Suddenly, I see the ceiling, and I know I’m falling, but I don’t hit the ground, at least I don’t think I do because I feel no pain when the darkness takes me.
The sound of water sifts through my sudden deafness, then the trickle of water running down my face makes me gasp when some gets in my mouth and nose. I lurch forward, my hands clutching the sides of the bathtub. A strong hand pulls me back, forcing me back against a warm chest.
“For some reason you’re going into heat, that shouldn’t happen until after you’ve shifted unless your wolf is distressed.”
“Heat?” I squeak.
“You’ll be fine, it must be my proximity so close to your shift.
It’s your wolf wanting to come forward. Your wolf is forcing the heat cycle earlier, and trying to force the shift,” Dion explains.
I don’t like the sound of that. Because that means my assumptions were correct in thinking taking the Belladonna on my shifting moon, means I’ve made her distressed.
“You can’t mate me without my wolf,” I panic.
“I know, so I need to keep your temperature down until you shift. Heats can kill, you go into full on heat before your wolf arrives–” he pauses, not finishing.
“What?” I ask, staring at him, panicked.
“Nothing, we’ll keep your temperature down; it’s nearly nighttime, the moon will show soon enough, we can hold out a few hours. Once she comes, I can take care of your heat and mark you.
“What do you mean take care of it?” I ask nervously, feeling like that’s probably something best left unsaid.
He takes a deep breath and rubs the back of my neck, “I need to make sure your heat cycle has been appeased without mating you,” he explains simply.
I bite my lip but agree with him, anyway. He doesn’t look happy though, his brow is furrowed in worry as he squeezes his eyes shut momentarily, exhaling sharply before staring down at me again.
We slowly sink into the bathtub together, Dion holding me against him, gently keeping an eye on the temperature. Occasionally he turns on more cold water when it heats too much due to my rising temperature and our body heat.
We don’t leave the bathroom. Dion’s arms wrap around me as I sweat out the fever caused by the Belladonna.
However, Dion grows increasingly anxious once midnight passes, constantly checking his watch.
“Why aren’t you shifting?” he murmurs more to himself than me.
I say nothing, knowing exactly why, but I can’t tell him that.
As more time passes, the pain eases, my fever eventually breaks, but I can feel the tension in the room.
He’s angry, or maybe just disappointed. But I feel nothing but relief.
I didn’t shift, which means I can still find a way out of this. Dion’s grip around me tightens as he stands, pulling me with him. I glance at him questioningly but don’t say anything.
He does his best to hide his feelings, but I can sense the restrained fury radiating off of him. He helps me out of the bathtub and dries me off, taking care not to touch my skin too much.
“Let’s get you dressed,” he snaps.
I follow him into the bedroom and dress in silence while Dion paces back and forth across the length of it.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity gone by, Dion stops pacing and turns toward me with fire burning in his eyes.
“You didn’t shift,” he growls through gritted teeth. I swallow, wary of his temper. “This is your fault, from taking the sleeper pills.”
“No, you made me take them, and knew I didn’t want to. You forced me!” I snap angrily, not wanting to remember my near-death experience. Being with Dion is like constantly knocking on death’s door in more than one way.
“Because I knew you were up to something!” he snarls, his eyes flickering.
“More reason to make me drink it?”
He growls, muttering something unintelligible.
I know I need to tread carefully now. One wrong word and Dion’s temper could get the better of him – again.
“I’m sorry, okay?” I can feel the tension in the room palpably, like a thick fog we are both wading through. An unspoken anger simmers between us, and I don’t know how to douse it. Dion’s eyes bore into me, his gaze intense.
“Just get to bed,” he snaps. I know better than to poke the beast, so comply for now.
Dion paces angrily again like some caged animal looking for escape in every corner and finding none when a knock sounds on the door. His head snaps in its direction, and he moves toward the door, pulling it open sharply. “What!” he growls.
“Sorry to disturb you, Alpha,” I hear Tara’s shaky voice.
“Sorry, Tara, I didn’t expect you,” he tells her.
“Kyrio sent me; there are rogues at the borders.”
He glances back at me.
“I’ll be right there,” he says, shutting the door. Without a word, he stalks over to me, reaching for a set of cuffs. I move quickly, but not quick enough before he clamps it on my ankle.
“I don’t trust you, until I know you didn’t sabotage your shift deliberately. You don’t move without a guard.” He jingles the cuffs as he clamps them on the bed. Before I can even protest, he is gone, the door closing behind him.