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Rowan shook her head. “Micah, she’s your mate. Not only will she want to be by your side—she has every right to be.”
“No. If any of you even think of letting her see me in this condition, I’ll find a way to leave. I mean it.”
From the glances the group exchanged, they were more than a little frustrated with him. But his first instinct was to protect his mate from unpleasantness, and that’s what he’d do.
“So, who gets to babysit me first?”
“I’m staying,” Rowan insisted.
Nick and Aric promised to be back later as well, and left. Rowan talked to him for a while, chatting about nonsense while he mostly listened. Then he drifted sleepily for a while before going under. He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but when he woke up, his head was splitting and his body was on fire. Pain. Every muscle burned. His stomach lurched, and he knew he was going to be sick.
Finding that his left hand was free, he rolled to his right side and leaned over the bed. Instantly his sister was there with a wastebasket, holding it with one hand and his hair with the other while he emptied what little was in his stomach. She talked to him quietly as he moaned.
“It’s going to be okay. Shh, you’re all right.”
When he was done, Noah helped him swish out his mouth, then took the bucket away. Micah slumped back on the pillows, exhausted. His body wouldn’t let him rest, though. His head and limbs still hurt, and he felt hot.
“How long?” he managed.
“What, since Mac was here and told you what was happening?”
“Yes.”
“A couple of hours. Nick went to look for Jacee.” She stroked his hair, and it felt nice. “I still think you should let her stay with you.”
“No.”
She didn’t push any more at the moment, but he knew she wouldn’t give up. Then he couldn’t think because a new wave of pain and sickness rocked him, this time accompanied by the shakes. Whatever his sister said, he didn’t hear.
The darkness took him again.
* * *
Jacee checked her phone for the sixth or seventh time that afternoon. Weird that Micah hadn’t sent any more cute texts, though she figured he was busy.
She told herself she was being stupid. The man was a black ops shifter with an important job. He didn’t always have time to indulge them, even if they were missing each other. If the bar was busier today, maybe she wouldn’t be aching for him so much. She could put their lovemaking out of her head for five minutes and not anticipate when they could be together again.
Yeah, right.
With a bored sigh, she wiped down the bar, then started polishing glasses and putting them away. A couple of regulars sitting at stools on one end asked for beers, but nothing kept her occupied for long.
When the door opened and Nick walked in, she was surprised to see him at the Grizzly in the middle of the afternoon. Unlike when he usually visited the establishment these days, he wasn’t wearing a smile, either. His purposeful walk, back straight, eyes locked on her, expression dead serious, gave her a chill.
“Commander Westfall,” she said in greeting. “What’s your poison today?”
“It’s Nick, please.”
“Okay, Nick. What’ll it be?”
“I can’t stay today, Jacee, and neither can you,” he said in a low voice, leaning on the counter. “I need you to come back to the compound with me.”
She stared at him, dread welling in her throat. She wasn’t stupid—if Nick was here asking that, and not Micah, that could only mean one thing. “What’s wrong with Micah? What’s happened?”
“Not here. Go tell Jack you have a family emergency and you might be gone at least two weeks.”
“Two weeks! I’ll lose my job.”
“You won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”
