Chapter 4 #3
Ren screamed, shoving at Falk as he tried to placate him.
Ren struggled as the sweater was pushed over his head—too hot, too suffocating—and felt himself being lifted up into Falk’s arms. He could only focus on the smell of cloves and soft smoke comforting him the moment it reached his nose—the same as the dull scent buried in his nest. Ren threw his arms around Falk’s neck, clinging to him for dear life as he pressed his nose against his throat.
He heard a couple of confused calls of Falk’s name and the moment they were up the stairs, Falk picked up the pace.
He tried to hold Ren steady, clutching him close against his chest. Ren was still jostled with every step, making him groan in pain as waves crashed over him all over again.
It would have been better to stay where he was down in his cell—would have been less painful curled up on his little mattress.
“Falk, halt!” The shout of his name had Falk jerking to a sudden halt. Ren felt how quickly Falk’s chest was rising and falling, heaving. But like a good Warrior, he had obeyed the order.
“What is going on?”
Ren peeked out from Falk’s neck when he heard the voice, familiar enough for his brain to latch onto it. He recognized the shorter Alpha immediately. Mont’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion.
“I’m taking him to the infirmary,” Falk said shortly.
“Did you get permission to…” Mont’s words trailed off as his gaze flickered down to the sorry state Ren was in—shivering in Falk’s arms with a sweater thrown haphazardly over him, barely covering his body. Ren wondered what Mont saw that made his eyes widen so much. “What is going on?”
“Can I please get him to a doctor before we speak?” Falk asked through gritted teeth.
“Of course. Yes. I’ll be right behind you,” Mont said.
Falk took off running again before the words were even entirely out of Mont’s mouth.
Ren thought he might have passed out in Falk’s arms for a few seconds, or maybe minutes, or maybe hours.
Because when he opened his eyes again it was to the feeling of him being lowered onto a far more comfortable mattress than he was used to.
He sighed, almost happily, at being able to curl up in such a comfortable spot.
“...don’t know what happened, he just… freaking out and…. smelled the blood and…” He could hear Falk’s frantic words swimming in and out of his ears at the same time that his mind dozed in and out of consciousness.
Ren really wanted to sleep here—really wanted to let the cloudiness take over his mind so he could finally, truly relax in such a comfortable bed.
It would make for a far better nest than the one he had downstairs—he wondered if they would let him keep it, wondered if they would let Falk bring him more clothes and maybe even some pillows to make a real nest. He had never laid in such a comfortable bed before.
Hands were turning him over onto his back, making him whimper—he wanted to curl himself into his blankets—and a moment later he felt a slight but insistent press on his stomach. Ren screamed at the pain shooting up his spine.
“I cannot do much until after his body tries to expel everything on its own and then it will involve surgery to…”
Ren stopped listening to the doctor’s words. He smelled the Wolf was an Alpha, one with a deep voice that made Ren’s head hurt. He stopped paying attention to what he was saying once he opened his eyes and looked at Falk.
For a moment, he thought Falk had gotten stabbed; his chest all the way down to his thighs was covered in blood. His gaze flickered over him, wondering where the injury lay, but he couldn’t find anything there.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
Falk flinched at Ren’s words, eyes wide, seeming startled Ren was speaking at all. He stepped over to the Omega’s side quickly, staring down at him. “What?”
“Are you hurt?” Ren repeated. “You’re covered in blood…”
Falk stared at him for a long few seconds before looking up at the doctor standing on the other side of the bed—hand still on Ren’s lower stomach. “This isn’t my blood,” Falk said slowly. “Listen, Ren, you’re really… sick—and this doctor is going to?—”
“I’m not sick,” Ren murmured. “I feel fine?—”
“Stop,” Falk snapped. “Just stop, Ren.”
“Falk.” Ren only realized Mont was in the room when he stepped over, putting a hand on Falk’s shoulder, squeezing him there as though to remind him of something. “He’s obviously a bit delirious. He’s lost quite a bit of blood. He doesn’t know?—”
“Here, Ren.”
The doctor held out a glass to him.
“Take this. It’ll help the pain,” the Alpha said slowly.
“Is it a suppressant?” Ren asked, voice small. “I’ve never taken a heat suppressant. Does it work even when the heat has already started?”
The doctor looked at him a long time before he nodded once, “Yes, Ren, this will make it stop even though it’s already started. Is that okay?”
Ren took a deep breath before throwing his head back just enough to swallow down the bitter tasting liquid at the bottom of the cup. He almost gagged at the feel of the thick medicine coating his tongue.
The medicine made him sleepy. He could feel the pain in his abdomen slowly fizzling out, floating away like a little cloud.
His eyelids were drooping, heavy, until they finally stayed closed.
He could still hear garbled, muffled voices talking over him for a few more moments before he dozed off entirely.