Page 144 of The Ashpaw: Part One

“Alpha Darion?”

Lucas knocked and spoke from the other side of the door.

“Lady Kyntha calls for you.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, resigning himself to a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. “We won’t have to wait much longer. Hopefully your new nest and my scent will be enough ‘til then.”

“And if it fades?” Fern asked, watching him put his boots back on.

Darion stood, then leaned over to give her one more kiss on her forehead. “Then I will give you as many tunics as you require.”

She watched him go, a lump growing in her throat that would not abate, and tears stuck in her lashes that would not fall.

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably.

Quickly changing into her nightdress, she burrowed back into her nest, breathing in his scent, surrounded by proof of his care.

And then she laughed.

She’d spent more time with him these past few days than she had when there were no such restrictions, all thanks to Katreena’s “limited schedule.”

And she couldn’t deny that it hadn’t helped her become accustomed enough to Kyntha’s scent, that, while still awful, it no longer stopped her from wanting to embrace Darion.

And because of it, Darion was softening towards her.

But… all she had of him now was scent, and her laughter turned to an empty sob.

It still wasn’t enough. He would never be able to give her enough of what she wanted.

Kyntha would always be there to take him away once they got too close, and he would have to obey her. His mate.

Sniffing, she got back out of the nest, grabbed the rocks from Reinn, and took out some of the spare blankets and pillows from her chest.

Then she laid on the floor and fell asleep with rocks lined up in front of her.

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.