Chapter 18: Packless

The fever came in waves, and each wave was higher than the last.

By the second morning I could not lift my head.

My skin felt too small for me, and every sound in the house hurt.

Odessa's kitchen women took turns in the chair by my cot.

One sponged my face with cold water, one held a cup to my mouth, and one sat and hummed a song I half knew.

"Drink," she said. "Come on, honey. Drink."

"Where's my wolf?"

"She's resting."

"She's gone."

"She's resting," the woman said firmly. "Drink."

I drank, and the water came back up, and she held the basin and did not complain.

Bryn sat on the end of the cot with her knees drawn up, watching me.

She had not left the room since the morning at the gate.

"You look awful," she said.

"Thanks."

"I mean it nicely." Her voice wobbled. "Odessa says you can take a new pack's oath and the sickness stops. She says it's easy."

"It isn't easy."

"Why not?"

"Because an Alpha has to take it."

"Tobias is an Alpha."

I closed my eyes.

"Yes," I said.

He had not come in.

I knew he was in the hall, because the boards creaked every few minutes under his weight, and I could hear him breathing through the door.

When the fever dipped that evening, and I could see straight, I told Bryn to bring him.

He stopped in the doorway.

He had a bruise the color of an eggplant across his cheekbone from Crane's rings, and he looked like he had not slept since the gate.

He did not come in.

"I'm here," he said.

"You're allowed to sit."

He took the chair, carefully, and put his hands on his knees.

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