Stumbling back into my nest, I trip over the rug and face-plant into my bed. It’s too fucking hot and peeling off my clothes isn’t helping as much as I want it to. Rolling myself into a burrito is just making everything worse. This is normally my comfort space. What the ever-loving hell is wrong with me?
I better not have caught a stomach bug.
If I start throwing up, I’m gonna stab somebody.
It’s just so hot!
Well, it can’t be my heat, I just had that last month.
Oh…shit.
Shit, shit…Shit!
Last year…Teddy. He got sick right after meeting his alpha and beta.
What was it?
Scent match!
He met them and got sick when he needed to be around them.
Wait, does that mean…John?
I didn’t get to meet most of them…but maybe.
Fuck, don’t get your hopes up.
Sleep now…see how we feel tomorrow.
Turns out, I feel worse in the morning. I can barely drag myself out from under the blankets. My body feels heavy and achy. The cold water bottle I grabbed to drink lies hot and uncomfortable against my stomach, where I tried to use it to soothe some of my aches last night. I reach for my phone without thinking. If I can just call the dorm supervisor, maybe someone can come help me. My legs feel like jelly, and there’s no way I’ll be able to make it out of bed without help, let alone to the hall and down the stairs.
The phone rings three times—long enough for the edge of panic to creep in—before someone picks up. “Dorm F supervisor Kimberly, how can I help you?” No one should sound this perky when I feel like death warmed over.
My voice is a raspy croak in contrast to her too-early cheer. “’S Sarah ’n room 312. S’mthin’s wrong. Everythin’ hurts.” My words slur, sounding like I had way too much to drink at last night’s mixer. But this is like no hangover I’ve experienced, plus it started last night. “Can’t move…help.”
The sound of a keyboard clacking comes through the phone before she speaks again. Her voice is less chipper and more businesslike now. “Sarah in room 312. Is this a heat issue? Our records indicate you just had one last month, but there’s been no reports of anyone else getting sick this morning. Let me send someone down to assist you. Are you able to get to the door?”
My eyes do that slow blink thing, trying to process what she just said, and a whine slips free as another cramp seizes my abdomen. My words come out through gritted teeth. “I…I c’n try. Just…hurts. I can…” Everything’s blurry, and I can’t seem to get my eyes to focus properly.
She cuts me off before I can attempt to force out any more words. “Negative Sarah, just stay where you are. I’ll send someone down now from security with a key. Do we have permission to enter your nest, Sarah?” That sounds awfully formal, but my mind feels like Jello right now, thoughts filtering in one side and out the other before I can grab them.
“Yes, please…help.” Another wave of pain washes through me and I curl into a ball, my body tight as my muscles twitch and jerk. Her keyboard clacks before she speaks again. “Ok, Sarah, I’ve put in a request for aid. Beta guard Gregory should be arriving at your door within two minutes to assist. Would you like to remain on the line with me until he arrives?”
There’s a knock at the door before I can answer. Whoever it is doesn’t wait for a response, and I hear the lock click before the door opens in the other room. That better fucking be beta guard Gregory, because I can barely move right now, let alone stop someone who wants to come in.
The door to my nest swings open and a wide body appears in the frame. The subtle scent of rain washes over me, cooling my feverish skin. It’s earthy, almost green, like taking a hike in the forest when it starts to storm. My spine bows and my body jerks at the male scent invading my space—a scent that doesn’t belong to the mate I met last night, my inner omega reminds me.
Fuck this crazy bitch.
Not gonna have any mates if I’m dead.
The pain radiating from my core feels like it could kill me.
There’s a moment of hesitation when he removes my blankets, and I completely forgot that I stripped last night in an attemptto cool down. Too late now. His breath hitches, but then strong arms wrap around me and pull me against a warm chest. He’s a beta so he can’t purr, but he makes little shushing noises against my hair as he wraps me in a sheet and steps from the room—turning on the exhaust fan before relocking the door.
Despite him not feeling like the alpha last night, my chest gives a little twinge at the thought that his scent will be completely gone by the time I return to my room. His arms feel amazing wrapped around me, and I already feel a little better, just being held. I know some omegas get sick from lack of touch, but it’s not a problem I’ve ever had. Still, it’s hard not to cuddle into his chest as he carries me down the stairs and across campus to the medical building.
Once inside, he speaks briefly to a receptionist before carrying me to a private nesting room. I’ve been at the medical center a few times a year for checkups, and during the weeks leading up to my heats to get the heavy-duty suppressants that make them tolerable without alphas. The nurses usually just put me in a small exam room. In contrast, the nesting suites are nice, and I have a brief pang of longing for a big nest of my own.
