He's a Father, a Werewolf, and Poor. She's None of the Above

♥ {4} ♥ He's a Father, a Werewolf, and Poor. She's None of the Above.

Chapter 4

Archer's POV

I yawned widely and stretched my aching body. I hadn't slept like that in six years, and now my body ached like it never did before. Probably because I usually toss and turn all night when I try to sleep. Slowly, I sat up and glanced around me, sniffing and rubbing my nose. I barely wanted to move, and every time I did, my head thrummed painfully.

Groaning, I slowly flopped back into the large, fluffy pillows. I didn't want to move, I didn't want to be awake. I felt so weak and tired. A werewolf should never feel like this, but after everything I've been through, I knew I was terribly sick. A lot sicker than Hunter, because whatever medicine I could afford, I gave to him. Usually there wasn't enough anyway for me. Whatever sickness I had now, definitely wasn't about to go away so soon, or so easily.

I coughed slightly and wheezed, feeling my lungs contract. I put a hand over my mouth and continued to couch horribly, and through this all, I realized Hunter wasn't in the room. I almost jumped out of the bed, but decided against it because I ached. Badly. After moving my hand from my mouth when I had finished coughing, I looked down at noticed there was blood on my hand. Was I coughing up BLOOD?

"I need to eat," I grumbled when my stomach growled at me. I went to the bathroom and washed my hand off, and my mouth, so it seemed like nothing ever happened. Whatever it was couldn't be that bad. I probably just needed to eat some good food and drink some whatever. My throat was a little scratchy, so maybe that was why I was thirsty and everything. It was nothing, I was sure of it.

Hesitantly, I walked out of the room, rubbing my wet hands on my bare abs. I wasn't losing any muscle from the slight malnutrition I was suffering from, because werewolves don't deteriorate very well. They could be dead, buried in the ground with nothing eating at them, and it would take at least five years for the body to even begin to start rotting. It was strange, but then again, werewolves ARE fast healers and everything.

Still though, it didn't make sense to me anymore. If werewolves were fast healers, why was I still sick? I can understand about Hunter, because he's just a baby. Not even a pup yet, because he's never transformed. But as for me? I shouldn't be sick. No coughing, no hacking up blood, no shivering or wheezing. I had no idea what was wrong with me, but it would definitely go away. It had too. Nothing was going to keep me away from Hunter.

Suddenly, the smell of food filled my nostrils. I stopped walking momentarily and sniffed that heavenly scent, letting my feet take me to where I wanted to go. There was no doubt it was coming from the kitchen, and there was no doubt that Hunter had smelled it as well. He may not have been a complete werewolf yet, but he did still have the genes and the super senses that naturally come along with them.

Coming upon a swing open chrome door, I figured this belonged to the kitchen. I pushed it open slightly and sniffed the air, growling slightly in content. One of the guys bustling around looked over at me wide eyed. My eyes widened also and I scurried out of the room and into the next door I saw. Turns out it was the dining room or something, and that's where Hunter was. With Emma, Claire, Kai, Cece, and a man I've never seen before. Probably Cece's husband.

I sighed in relief when I saw Hunter, making him almost immediately drop the waffle he was tearing to shreds. He hopped out of his chair with an excited "Daddy!" and ran over to me. I knelt down and caught him in my arms, smoothing back his hair and hugging him as tightly as I could.

"Please, don't ever do that again, Hunter," I breathed in his ear. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?"

"Sowwy daddy," he muttered, before grabbing my hand and pulling me over to the table. I sat in the seat he had been sitting in before and pulled him into my lap, letting him get back to eating his shredded waffle. Hunter grabbed a piece and held it up. I opened my mouth and chuckled, and he stuck it in. Chewing, I chuckled softly and swallowed, watching him pull the waffle to even smaller pieces so they were easier for him to eat. I remember that his favorite breakfast were waffles and pancakes.