Everlasting

Chapter 19

Griffin

I woke up feeling weird.

Off.

I sat up cautiously, groaning at the way my body ached. I couldn't remember ever feeling like this. Oh, I'd been sore before. After a grueling training session or even after a particularly athletic round of sex, I'd felt a temporary pain. But this didn't feel temporary, and it wasn't concentrated in any one part of my body. I hurt... everywhere. And it was worse when I moved.

Was I... sick?

No. I shook off the ridiculous thought and clutched at my head when a wave of dizziness overtook me. It felt like I was spinning, but I was pretty certain my bed wasn't actually moving. My stomach clenched and a cold sweat broke out over my temple while chills wracked my body. I sank back beneath the blankets and curled up as small as I could make myself, but it didn't do much to make me feel any better.

"Griffin?" a deep voice said, altogether too close. I jolted in surprise and instantly regretted moving. A hand pressed above my brow and I could have cried from the relief it brought me.

"Griffin?" he asked again, but I couldn't respond. I was too busy scooting myself to be closer to my mate. I was lying on his lap with my arms wrapped securely around him before I even consciously registered any decision to move.

That felt so much better.

Wulfric's hands brushed my hair back, and I realized I must be sweaty and gross from the cold, clumpy way my hair followed the motion. "What's wrong with me?" I whispered. I hadn't meant to say it out loud, but I was glad I did when Wulfric's arms wrapped around me supportively in response.

"I'm not certain," he said, and I distantly registered that he sounded worried. "I thought werewolves don't get sick."

"We don't," I agreed. "We can get hurt, but not sick. Not after our shifts start."

"And yours have?" he confirmed.

I snorted, torn between offense and amusement at the idea of not shifting by my age. Amusement won. "Um, yeah." My tone added the "duh" for me.

Wulfric's arms tightened around me. It would have been really nice, if I didn't suddenly feel really, really gross. My mouth watered, my throat worked, my stomach heaved, and chills wracked my body. My stomach lurched even harder, and I clamped my hand over my mouth. Bile burned my tongue, and I wrenched myself out of Wulfric's hold just in time to throw up on the floor instead of the bed.

I groaned and slumped back against Wulfric, enjoying a strange sense of relief for all of two seconds. Then I was horrified. Could anything be more humiliating? The scent burned my nose, and I knew Wulfric's sense of smell was heightened like mine. It had to have taken over his senses just as much as mine.

"Oh my God," I groaned in horror. And, to make matters worse, my stomach lurched again, my throat working painfully in ways I wished I could make it stop. At least now I knew what this feeling meant, and I was able to dash to the bathroom on wobbly legs that gave out in front of the toilet just in time for another round of vomiting.

Even though it was gross, I rested my sweaty forehead against the cool toilet seat. It did bring some relief, and so did the way my stomach seemed to settle.

"What's your phone password?" Wulfric asked. I turned my head to squint at him in confusion. I wished he would leave me to my misery so I wouldn't have to add further humiliation to what was already a pretty terrible morning.

"What?"

He shook his head and efficiently took my hand, pressing my index finger to the sensor on my phone. It unlocked with a little snick. I was too drained to bother questioning what he was doing, at least until he brought the phone to his ear as the sound of a ringing line filled the room.