Page 112 of The Ashpaw: Part One

Serich sang softly as he worked, cleaning off the blood first, then pouring some herbal-smelling tonic onto clean gauze.

The tonic stung when it met injury, and Serich shushed her gently as she hissed.

“I know, but this will help prevent the wounds from turning to pus and fever.”

So she held her tongue as he carefully applied the medicine to the rest of the scratches.

“I will cover these with bandages for now, and when they form scabs in a few days, you will need to let them breathe. Perhaps ask one of your attendants to choose gowns with wider necklines.”

She didn’t bother to tell him there was no point since she had no gowns to speak of.

“I understand, thank you.”

He was finished, and yet he didn’t move, carefully inspecting the rest of her. Her pulse felt through her wrist, a slight push on her abdomen, an ear to her chest to hear her breathing.

Her fingers dug into the thin blanket beneath her, otherwise they would have wound into his hair to keep him there. Even an examination was touch she needed.

He hummed, the tone disappointed. “You are malnourished, omega.”

She snorted. “I think I could have told you that.”

His eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in pity. “I will have the kitchens send something up immediately. Without some fat, I do not know if you’ll even be able to go into estrus.”

Her wolf whined, but Fern merely looked confused. “Into what?”

But he was already packing his things. “Good meat, cheese, and butter for your bread. Healer’s orders.”

She sat up on her elbows, watching him go. Food was good, but that wasn’t all she needed. “Um…”

He paused, his hand on the doorknob as he turned around. “Is there something else?”

“I… I don’t know if this is necessarily in a healer’s purview, but…”

He gave her a soft smile. “Even if it’s not, I will find whoever it belongs to.”

She swallowed, finding it difficult to ask for something so… excessive. “My bed… or nest, rather. It’s…”

“Woefully insufficient?”

Her cheeks heated and she nodded, suddenly feeling very foolish. She’d barely eaten and yet was worried about the number of pillows she could sleep on.

“I had thought so myself, considering your nature. I haven’t met any omegas before, but I’ve researched their care. I will let an attendant know.”

“Thank you,” she replied, her voice quiet.

The door snicked close, and she must have fallen asleep almost immediately, because the next thing she knew, someone was tucking pillows and blankets around her.

“There’s food on the table,” came Adela’s quiet voice. “Venison pie, straight from the kitchen. Still hot.”

The scratches on her chest still ached, but the fabrics around her—velvets, silks, brocades—were more luxurious than anything she’d ever known, and she made a contented little moan as she curled around a long pillow made for cuddling.

Her wolf was pleased at first, because despite Darion’s decision to keep her in her room for the foreseeable future, he seemed to still want to honor her status.

And then she recognized the scent.

She opened her eyes just to check, confirming she’d seen this bedding before.

It was all Reinn’s.