Chapter 39
Fern
It was a cruel twist of fate to be given the only thing you wanted once you had finally given up hope of ever getting it.
She dug her face into the blanket, fingers curling into the sweat, seed, and slick-coated fabric as he drove himself inside her from behind, his hands on her waist.
“Fuck,” he panted, thrusting harder. “This is what you need. And I have it, just for you. My omega, my Fern…”
She flinched.
Fern remembered wishing for the day he’d call her by her name, but hearing it now from his lips was painful and strange.
As if she’d walked by a cow and it started barking.
And yet…
He was also right. Darion had what she needed.
The sedative had worn off a while ago, but all the pain she’d felt was now gone, for whenever the heat rose, he was there, helping her ride it out on his body. And then all that remained was pleasure.
Whether Darion had known what he was supposed to do all along or if his alpha instincts had finally come to life, she wasn’t sure. And she wouldn’t ask. But he tended her and cared for her like she could have only dreamed about.
And there was not a single mention of… the other one. No word of having to leave, or his other duties to the clan.
There was only her.
He fed her, gave her water, washed her by hand, kissed her gently and whispered sweet words in her ear.
But all that coming from him left her empty.
Right treatment. Wrong person.
The dog was mooing now.
Her climax built quickly and she screamed as she came. He followed, his knot expertly sliding inside of her.
Like they’d been made for each other.
And wasn’t that sad.
* * *
Fern was only vaguely aware that someone had come to the door. There were hushed whispers.
They sounded annoyed.
The door closed.
She looked up from her spot on the floor.
One would think her month spent as the Ashpaw would have her accustomed to such sleeping conditions, but her back hurt worse than ever.
She missed her nest.
“Good morning,” he said, putting a tray of food on the table. “The healer stopped by with some special tea for you, so make sure to drink it.”
Fern sat up.
She knew she wasn’t out of heat completely yet, but the waves of need had slowed down considerably, allowing her mind more time to clear between bouts of muddled wanton pleasure.
He handed her the cup, the drink having turned cool during its trip to her room, but it only made it more refreshing. The taste was herbal, with a hint of licorice, and she finished it in just a few sips.
She was severely dehydrated, her body sucking up the tea like dry earth in the rain, and she sighed contentedly as she placed the empty cup back on the tray.
Darion watched her, and then he cleared his throat. “I… need to tell you that today is the ceremony.”
Fern froze.
At first she couldn’t believe it had been that long. Then, she realized it meant Darion was leaving her—for how long, she could only guess.
But she still needed him.
And that was what upset her the most. It was like every time she had successfully expelled him from her heart, he’d manage to worm his way in even closer than he had been before.
The push-pull was driving her crazy, and with the heat still upon her, her feelings were all over the place.
She didn’t want him, but she didn’t want him to leave, either.
“I wish I could delay it, I really do. But I will come check on you once it’s over, and then return to you—”
Fern stood, then swayed dramatically, her legs shaky and vision blurry. Darion reached out to hold her, but she recoiled.
He tried again, and this time, she screamed.
“You can’t keep doing this to me!”
Darion’s face fell, his arms returning to his side. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not… I can’t… I don’t want to be the afterthought!”
His gaze fell to the floor.
“I could share you if I felt Kyntha and I were equal, but she will always be your priority. You told me this, and you showed me this. You will always believe her over me, and I just have to hope and pray to the gods I don’t make her jealous enough that her next lie will get me killed.”
“Fern, I don’t think she lied about you…”
“So what did she say to make you think I did this to myself, hm?”
She almost expected Darion to get defensive, but he actually appeared regretful.
For once.
“I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t want you to be an afterthought, either. It’s not fair to you or me.”
Fern was feeling dizzy, her knees barely able to hold her, so she sat back down in her blankets. She breathed heavily from the exertion just that little effort took. “Fair to you?”
Darion came closer, crouching down. “I don’t ever want to deny myself the pleasure of you again, Fern. You are mine, and you deserve just as much of me as she does.”
Then he kissed along her jaw. Slow, soft kisses, that trailed down her neck and stopped right in the crook. His teeth scraped the skin there, and her whole body shivered, an involuntary moan slipping through her lips.
“Here,” he said, his breath warm. “I will claim you as my mate.”
Her chest tightened. “Mate?”
She felt her wolf for the first time in days. Fern had thought such an offer would excite her, but her wolf was cautious.
Isn’t this what you wanted? Fern asked.
We should not make a pack with an alpha who cannot provide and a she-wolf who would kill us in our sleep.
Pack?
Her wolf rolled her eyes like she didn’t know why she even bothered with her.
“Mate,” he confirmed. “Not Naravekh. You mean more to me than that. You mean more to the clan than that.”
Fern tried to picture it, but it wouldn’t form properly in her mind, as though a painter had deliberately made each face in this family portrait blurry except for hers. And she… wasn’t smiling.
He placed his hand on her lower belly. “There will be pups, soon, if I am so fortunate. If the gods can forgive me for my mistakes.”
Fern inhaled a shuddering breath, and Darion gently pushed her down. “I have time for one more, little Fern. Give me one more.”
Her legs spread for him as he nestled between them, and she closed her eyes, giving him everything.
* * *
He gathered his clothes, and just before he departed, Fern called out to him.
“Aye?”
“I can’t last the day without you.”
Darion’s expression fell. “I know.”
“Can… can you call the healer? I wish to be asleep until you return.”
He looked at her for a moment, thinking, and then nodded once. “It will be done.”
Darion left, and not twenty minutes later, Serich returned with the medicine, just as Darion had said.
And she wept, knowing all of the previous promises he’d made had been broken because he’d never cared before now.