The Amber Shift

Twenty-Seven

Noelle

The moment Elijah leaves, beads of sweat form on my forehead and a wave of nausea sweeps over me. I fight down the sick feeling, afraid that it has more to do with my fractured emotions rather than the shift. No one said anything about the change making me ill, and I don't want to worry Killian. So I close my eyes and breathe through the sickness from my rolling stomach.

I turn onto my side and a groan escapes me.

Killian stops his pacing and slides into the chair that Elijah left next to my cell. He cocks his head to one side and slides his arm through the bars, pushing my hair off my forehead. "You're not looking so good, sweetheart. How are you feeling?"

"It's just my stomach," I lie.

It is more than feeling ill physically. Something inside of me feels broken and the only person who can help me mend it won't. He is too busy caring for his own wounds and has left me to bleed out on my own.

"It's normal for your body temperature to rise. Once the shift happens, you will feel like a million bucks. Is there anything I can get you?"

I shake my head, the nausea making it difficult to talk.

Killian doesn't leave my side. For two hours, he sits on the other side of the bars, brushing my hair away from my damp forehead. I drift off several times, but I'm awake when Asher enters the cells shirtless and shoeless. He brushes his golden curls from his forehead as he and Killian exchange whispered words. I don't miss the dirt clinging to his forearms and feet. Something tells me he was running behind schedule, and I wonder what he was up to in his wolf form.

"Here is the key. If it happens tonight, I have a feeling it's going to be on your watch," Killian says.

"Should be entertaining to see the future lycan queen shift for the first time," Asher replies, stuffing the cell's key in the pocket of his low sitting jeans.

Killian raises his eyebrows. "I hate to miss it." With one more sweep over my forehead, he smiles and says, "Good luck, sweetheart. You'll be fine and running with us in no time."

I nod and return his smile, albeit weakly.

He doesn't shift but jogs down the corridor out of sight.

Asher sits down in the chair that Killian had vacated and slips his hand through the bars, caressing my face. "Are you okay, love? Can I get you anything?"

I shake my head, the nausea bubbling up inside me. "No, but—is it normal to get sick like this? Like I'm going to throw up?"

Asher shrugs one shoulder. "Yes and no. It's different for everyone. I didn't feel sick on my first shift, but Remi did. He'll never admit it to you, but he puked his guts up right there where you're laying." I turn my nose up and he holds up his hands. "Don't worry; the mattress was replaced."

I relax and kick the cover off my legs. "I'm burning up," I whine, rolling over to my back and looking up at Asher through teary eyes.

He places his palm on my forehead and his eyes widen. "Yes, you are." He swallows hard and moves his palm to my cheek, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. "Love, I think you're on the edge of shifting. I just want you to be prepared."

My heart hammers against my chest and I rise to a seated position. The nausea is fading, quickly replaced by a thrumming coming from deep within me, my entire body pulsing from my temples to the space between my legs.

"Asher..." My chest heaves up and down, and all my clothes are suffocating me.

He's on his feet in an instant, gripping the bars so tight his knuckles are turning white. "Noelle, love, I need you to breathe."