Chapter 33
Fern
Despite falling asleep on the floor for the past few nights, Fern would still wake up in her nest, Darion’s scent a call her unconscious body could not ignore.
And then one morning as she sat up, she realized she felt off.
There was a dull ache in her lower body, which she would have attributed to being on the floor if not for a few other symptoms—flushed and dewy skin, stomach cramping, and a general fatigue.
All of which, when taken together, felt like the kind of summer illness that often swept through her parents’ tavern.
She moaned, hoping it would be cured within the week, because knowing Kyntha, she’d use a sniffle or flushed cheek as a reason to ban Fern from her nightly meetings with Darion so as not to get either of them sick.
And even though the visits were awkward and would leave her hurting more when they were finished, she still needed the time with Darion more than anything.
Fern normally didn’t wear powder, but asked Jena to help her keep the shine off her skin, so she could eat and then go find Serich for medicine.
Darion and Kyntha were absent from the morning meal—apparently they were fasting for some ritual at the temple—so it was just the families.
The Ironcoats sat at one end of the table, aside from Reinn, who made it a point to sit one chair over from Eidan with the Sabletails so that Fern could be between them.
As she entered the hall, she noticed a few more heads turning than usual, especially from the alphas.
Can wolfkin smell illness? she asked her wolf.
Her wolf stared at her blankly like she was a fool for asking. Which still didn’t answer her question.
“Good morning, sunbeam,” Reinn called, patting the empty chair. “Don’t you smell lovely today?”
Fern gave herself a nervous sniff. “Do I?”
“You do,” Eidan said, pointing to the little pot of honey he’d already slid next to her. “Sweeter than this.”
She giggled, giving him a light-hearted smack before digging in.
And then she felt the weight of staring, and looked up from her bowl.
The alphas at the table were all watching her. The Sabletails with tenderness, mostly, while the Ironcoats looked curious.
But Katreena’s eyes were narrowed, her nostrils flaring slightly and lips pursing.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked.
Again?
For had she ever had a day here where she hadn’t broken some silly wolfkin protocol?
“Hm, not quite,” Reinn replied, taking a bite of his sausage. “Hitting an alpha in front of his clan could be seen as provocative. Even if in jest.”
Fern’s cheeks paled, and she whipped her head back to Eidan, afraid to find he may be angry with her. Yet he merely chuckled, patting her knee affectionately. “But it’s nearly impossible for us to see you as a threat. If anything, physical touch from an omega is not only tolerated, it’s welcomed.”
“Impossible to see me as a threat?” Fern scoffed, her wolf chuffing in agreement. “I could be threatening if I wanted to be.”
She stabbed one of Eidan’s sausages with her fork, taking a bite while grinning. “See?”
He shot out to grab her wrist, and then brought her hand towards his mouth with ease despite Fern using all her strength to resist. Then his lips wrapped around the rest of the sausage, pulling it off the fork with a wink. “Terrifying,” he said, his mouth full.
His own scent deepened into something that made Fern’s mouth water and heart race.
Eidan breathed in, swallowed, and then pain shot through her abdomen and she winced, her inner thighs wet with… sweat, she thought. She couldn’t tell.
“Fern?”
“I’m fine,” she said on a slight hiss. “I just… haven’t been feeling well.”
Eidan and Reinn both stood at the same time. “Do you need to see the healer?” Reinn asked.
Fern laughed, shaking her head. “It’s nothing, really. Lucas can take me. I’m sure you’re busy.”
“Who’s Lucas?” Eidan growled.
“Um,” she looked back at the row of wolfkin soldiers standing along the wall behind them, waving at Lucas. He smiled and bowed his head. “My guard?”
“Hm,” Reinn replied. “And you trust him?”
Fern chuckled, getting up and patting him on the shoulder. “I believe I do. I’ll see you in a few hours for lunch.”
* * *
The scent of crushed herbs and clean linen welcomed her as she entered Serich’s healing ward. Shelves lined the stone walls from floor to ceiling, crowded with dried plants, stoppered glass bottles, bundles of roots, and carefully labeled jars of powders.
Sunlight spilled through tall narrow windows onto a long wooden examination table covered in folded blankets and worn leather straps that she tried very hard not to look at for too long.
“Lady Fern!” Serich called warmly. He set down the mortar and pestle he held, rinsing and drying his hands quickly before approaching. “What brings you down here?”
“I’m afraid I’m not feeling very well. A summer cold, perhaps.”
Serich frowned. “Wolfkin do not get colds,” he said, feeling her temperature with his wrist. “Hm, you are warm… Would you mind laying down for me?”
He helped her onto the examination table, checking her pulse and her breathing before moving lower. “Any abdominal pain?” he asked, pushing slightly on her belly.
“A little. Cramps, every once in a while.”
He nodded. “Increased slick?”
“Pardon?” she squeaked.
“From your sex. Do you feel more slick than usual?”
If she’d been warm when she’d entered, she was on fire now, and the healer took her embarrassed silence as confirmation.
“Lady Fern, this isn’t an illness.”
“It’s not?”
He helped her sit up. “You’re going into estrus.”
She stared at him blankly.
“Heat.”
That wasn’t clearing things up, and she swallowed nervously. “I’m sorry, perhaps I didn’t quite hear you. Did you say… heat? Like… like an animal?”
He gave her a pitying smile. “We are wolves, dear. And you are an omega.”
She screamed internally at her wolf. You kept this from me?
Her wolf shrugged. How was I supposed to know humans don’t go into heat?
Because you live inside one! she hissed.
She shrugged again.
Fern took a couple of deep, calming breaths. “Alright, so… so what happens?”
Serich went to a shelf containing several medical texts, and quickly found what he was looking for in a book titled “The Compendium of Omega Nature.”
“Never thought I’d get to reference this book for a patient,” he said, flipping through pages until he found what he was looking for.
“Ah ha, Omega Estrus. It says symptoms typically occur one to two days before the cycle begins, and that cycles can range from three to seven days depending on the omega’s age and health. ”
Her heart raced. It all sounded terrifying so far. “What exactly are the symptoms?”
He read through the passage and Fern’s mouth dropped with the horrifying realization that they all matched how she’d been feeling.
Body aches, low fever, stomach cramping, increased slick, scent ripening…
And more were to come.
“As far as the estrus itself, I of course have never had the chance to witness it in person. But from what I’ve read it can be disorienting.”
Fern closed her eyes tightly, holding herself and trying not to scream. “Please, Serich. Tell me everything you know.”
* * *
It was even worse than she thought.
“I can’t do this,” she whispered, tears falling down her face.
Serich held her hands, giving them a squeeze. “Your body is ready, there’s no need to be scared. With the increased slick and loosening of your joints—”
“I don’t mean physically,” she answered quickly with a sniff. “I mean… Darion can’t. He won’t bed me.”
The healer’s eyes widened in shock. “Whatever do you mean? Of course he will, you’re his Naravekh, his omega. Tending you in heat is his greatest duty and honor as your alpha.”
“You don’t understand,” she cried. Serich grabbed a small clean linen strip, wiping her cheeks. “He promised Lady Kyntha he wouldn’t lay with me until after the mating ceremony, and that’s still days away.”
Now Serich was truly shocked. “He made such a promise? But… but why?”
Fern snorted, giving him a pointed look. “Why do you think?”
He pursed his shaking lips in frustration, and then let out a defeated sigh. “I cannot speak ill of my clan’s alphas. What would you have me do, Lady Fern?”
“Is there a way to stop it?”
Serich looked even more upset now. “I don’t believe so, and I don’t think it’s right, but for you, I will see if there’s any research on the topic. In the meantime…” He walked towards one of the shelves holding the jars of various plants, and pulled one down.
“Willow bark,” he explained. “You can chew it or brew it into a tea. It will relieve your pain and lower the fever for now.”
He took out several strips and wrapped them in a square of fabric. Then he went to another shelf, and took a small, blue bottle filled with liquid.
“Witch hazel tonic. Apply it to your neck, wrists, inner elbows, behind your ears and between your thighs. This will mask your scent.”
He handed both to her.
“You take these, and I will look through my texts and see if there’s anything I can find about delaying the onset or suppressing estrus entirely.”
Fern nodded, her initial distress turning into something numb now. She retreated further inside, finding safety for the impending trauma. “Thank you, Serich. I… I will try to do some research myself.”
Serich patted the book he’d shown her. “There’s a copy of this in the castle library, as well as other accounts that may contain helpful information. And if anything worsens, please feel free to come back.”
Clutching the package of willow bark to her chest and pocketing the tonic, she walked to the door, yelping when a Solvekh attendant nearly fell in as she opened it.
“O-oh, my deepest apologies,” she said, straightening her skirts and averting her gaze. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”
Fern nodded in acknowledgment and then left, finding Lucas waiting around the corner.
“Are you alright?” he asked.