This wasn't how it was supposed to happen, with my mate locked outside. I knew why it had needed to happen. I'd never witnessed rage like that. But, after a few days of staying apart, the cold had set in, and it had only gotten worse.
There wasn't a thing I could do to warm myself. The only time I didn't need to fight not to shiver was when I was in Aver's bed, and the memory of his body surrounded me. I stayed there a lot because of that, staring out the window in his room.
But things still got worse. Sudden bright lights or sounds made my head hurt, and sitting in a room lit by more than a window made my eyes sting and water. At least my nausea had gone away—replaced by a gnawing hunger that couldn't be sated. No matter what I ate or how much, I was still hungry.
I knew it wasn't food that my body wanted. But I couldn't only think about myself; I had to think about my baby. Except I was thinking about my baby, and everything in me told me Aver was still my safe harbor. What had happened those weeks ago could not be swept under a rug and forgotten, but it could be forgiven.
Nash's nose had healed in a day. Jorge and Sam had stayed with Sprinkles as he reported what had happened to him, and that time, they told an officer willing to listen. They'd arrested Sprinkles's attacker the next day, and he was still in jail waiting on kidnapping charges. Sam suspected he could've been charged for much more, but they could only do as Sprinkles wanted.
The night of the mating party had come and gone without a splash. I'd worried not going would create a huge wave that was just going to make everything worse, but it didn't, not when it came to the Walker cousins anyway. None of them mentioned it, not that day nor the days following. They were all amazing, but the mates, Kansas, Riley, and Phin, had known what to suggest even when I couldn't verbalize what I needed.
But they weren't Aver. And Aver was the only thing my body wanted.
"They've been talking a while." I brought the plush gray throw blanket tighter around me, drawing my knees against my stomach.
Riley slipped to the floor, handing Bran blocks of different shapes, textures, and colors. He looked at each thoughtfully and I wondered, which characteristics of an item did young children take notice of. Mouthfeel?
Riley handed Bran the whole container and got to his feet. "Do you want lunch? You didn't eat much of your breakfast."
I tore my face from the window. "Are you hungry?"
Riley smirked. "I know what that means. Keep an eye on Bran. I'll be right back."
The moment his father left the room, Bran lifted himself to his feet, the process needing a few extra seconds for him to find his balance. He turned his head to the hallway Riley had disappeared down and then over at me.
He toddled over, solemnly handing me the last block that Riley had given him. A blue star. Bran placed the block in my hand; our eyes met. For a crazy second, it was as if I could see the universe unfolding behind his gaze, thousands of years of wisdom, trapped in a tiny body. "You know more than you let on, don't you?" I rubbed his cheek affectionately.
"Penis," Bran whispered seriously.
I hadn't laughed in a while, but I couldn't stop myself then. Riley had no chance of ever getting Bran to stop saying the word if we couldn't stop laughing every time he did.
It felt good to laugh, especially once Bran began laughing with me. The two of us shared the chuckle before Bran stopped suddenly and stared at my stomach.
"Time," he said.
"Time? For what? A change?" I leaned over the edge of the couch with the intention of checking Bran's diaper, but I never made it that far.
I felt a stabbing pain and then a ripping sensation. Something was wrong.
"Riley!" I yelled. "I think something is—" I bent over, clenching my teeth against the wave of pain. For once, I felt hot, but it was a sickly flush that didn't reach my toes or fingers.
"Don't panic." Riley's voice sounded like it came from far away, though I could see him standing a few feet away. He held Bran and pedaled back to the hallway where he yelled for the others.
Nash kneeled at my side, my wrist in his hands. "His pulse is weak. Phineas, call Dr. Tiffany. Tell her to come right away." Nash cupped my cheek, patting it lightly, but I couldn't figure out how to open my eyes for more than a few seconds. "No, no, Hollister, don't fall asleep. Not right now." His voice came more quietly. I figured he'd turned his head. "What happened before this? Did he complain of anything?"
"No. We were talking about Aver and Branson, and then I stepped out to make lunch…"
This wasn't Riley's fault, and I attempted to tell him as much, but my lips were so cold they refused to work. My teeth chattered uncontrollably.
This was all wrong. I was supposed to feel warm and happy. My mate was supposed to be here. I wasn't supposed to be scared and cold. I wasn't supposed to feel like I was slowly dying, my life force fading away.
Nash lifted my shirt, touching the smooth skin of my stomach. The moment his hand lay flat against my skin, blinding pain exploded behind my eyes, releasing bursts of colorful light that I couldn't enjoy.
I'd tried to stay strong. I'd tried to stay quiet.
I opened my mouth, back bowing off the floor from the pain. I didn't recognize the ear-piercing scream that escaped me.
My body collapsed with a thud. I couldn't have moved if I wanted to. The door slammed open, and someone growled. Many someones. While they fought, I was dying. I grew weaker by the second, my entire body starved for sustenance. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, dry and thick. Thirst and hunger bickered like unhappy siblings, each vying to be the thing that killed me. And though I knew I was starving, it wasn't for food. The hunger was for something I couldn't describe.
Like two fingers snapping together, suddenly, the pain was less. I sobbed with that small relief as warm fingers brushed my tears from my cheeks. Heat blossomed on my face, and I turned into the feeling, wishing I could crawl inside of it. In that space, there was warmth. Just as I'd known I was dying, clinging to life with tired fingers, I knew that what touched me now could be my salvation.
"I have you, pet. I'm here. I'm so sorry. Thank you for making me sit out there and think. I was being vindictive and stupid. I love you so much."
Aver's voice only made me cry harder. I didn't want to believe it was real. I couldn't. If I opened my eyes and he wasn't there…
"He can't sleep, Aver," Nash said over my head. "I don't know what's wrong with him, but he has to stay awake. Dr. Tiffany is on her way."
Stay awake. I had a goal. And the longer Aver held me, the more able I felt to meet that goal. I turned into him, but there wasn't skin, only cloth.
"Need…touch…" I rasped, hoping he would understand what I meant.
I thought someone lifted my shirt, but I couldn't be sure until Aver's hands cupped my stomach, and he rubbed the skin gently. His touch sent arrows of heat and life. With every caress, every embrace, I could breathe a little easier. The chattering stopped.
I opened my eyes.
"Aver?" He wasn't in front of me, but I had heard his voice. Nash had spoken to him.
"I'm here." He cupped my chin. I'd been pretty sure I was laying on the floor, but now I sat upright, cradled between Aver's legs with my back to his chest. His legs hugged my body as his hands rubbed my exposed belly, and his lips caressed my cheek. Everywhere he touched, my body thawed, the hunger lessened.