Omega and the beast

Chapter 47

I had cried all day yesterday after we had lunch and I was sent to my room. And all night I lay under the covers, clawing my burning skin with such a pain in the pit of my stomach.

Reed said that a claimed omega and her, or his, mate could feel the pain of being apart like the one I felt when I escaped to Mike. But that it would be less intense. But my pain was rough. It hurt so much, and I soaked the sheets with my tears.

Like the night before, they had served me an evening sandwich and water since I barely ate anything during dinner. But it stayed untouched and when Geneviève and Sarah once again came into my room in the morning they were clearly disappointed by my lack of intake of food.

Sarah sighed loudly, preparing the bathtub for me again. I, on the other hand, rushed to the toilet to throw up. Geneviève rubbed my back soothingly, sniffing my throat.

"This is the third time, Sarah. He tried to hide it from us yesterday."

"Can it be due to the stress?"

"I suppose. Ryan, are you sick?"

"W-what the f-fuck do you t-think?!" I croaked. "B-but if you l-let me go h-home I will g- get well!"

"You are home, silly!" Sarah snickered. "Well, unless you mean to your mate."

"I do!" I whined.

"But he will come and claim you and bring you back to Maine as soon as the ring of alpha has made their decision. If you don't follow him back then, but I think Thor wants the rite to be held here."

"Maine?" I frowned, leaning back at my heels.

"Yes? Buck."

"Buck-fucker isn't my mate!" I hissed.

"Yet." I gritted my teeth. "Down in the bath with you while I'll change your shirt."

I tried to struggle but they easily lifted me down in the tub before Geneviève began washing me off. Sarah left the room to gather my clothes, or I guess my only shirt, and I glanced dully at my sister.

She carefully worked the soap into my arm with a sponge, rubbing it gently up toward my shoulder. When she reached my chest and swept it over my nipples, I winced.

"Does it hurt?" I placed an arm over them protectively. "May I see?"

"No, I'm fine!" I hissed but she grabbed my arm and moved it. She leaned in. "Hm... They don't seem swollen, do they?" She reached for them, but I slapped her hand away with a startled glare.

"Don't you dare touch me that way!" She frowned.

"We have to keep an eye on you."

"Fucking parley!"

"Yet we need to care about your health. If that means a check-up,"

"Fuck you!" Sarah entered the room again.

"Look at this, Sarah," Geneviève tried to touch my chest again but I slapped her hand away angrily once more, shuffling to the other side of the tub.

"Don't you dare touch me!" I snapped again. "Fucking piece of brat-twat!"

But they didn't seem angry or offended by my outburst. Instead, they discussed whether my temper had anything to do with my nausea and soreness.

Soon they helped me out of the tub and dried me before I got dressed. I refused letting them dry my chest, fencing them off, but they both leaned in to smell me several times which made me feel uneasy. How could they not understand that my mood was due to my heartbreak?!