Page 30 of Omega's Bears

Chapter Eighteen

The next morning, Iwake up feeling absolutely miserable.

Even though I’ve had a great night’s sleep, I’m absolutely exhausted. I probe my subconscious, trying to determine whether my rest was interrupted by nightmares, but as usual, I can’t remember any of my dreams. If I did have a nightmare, it couldn’t have been that bad, surely, or it would have stuck with me.

Have I woken too early? The men are all still here, piled around me, and for a moment, it occurs to me that I ought to roll over and go back to sleep. But that idea is quickly dispelled by the fact that I can see sunlight pouring in through the open top of our den. Even as this thought registers, Luka mumbles something in his sleep and Ryan rolls over, away from the pile of bodies—sure signs that the two of them are beginning to wake. It’s definitely morning, then.

And yet, the fatigue is overwhelming. My muscles are as weak as if I’d just completed a marathon, and my eyes don’t want to stay open. I roll over and bury my face in Jack’s shoulder, taking a few deep breaths and trying to pull myself together. Maybe the oxygen will help wake me up. Maybe....

My nostrils fill with a rotten, unbearable scent and my hand flies to my mouth as my stomach gives a lurch. I know instantly that I’m going to vomit, and in the same second, I realize there’s no way I can make it out of the cave in time. Panicking, I lunge up despite my exhaustion and grab one of our few cookpots, hunching over it and gagging.

The sound of my distress wakes the others. A moment later, I feel warm hands on my back. “Cami? Are you all right?” The voice belongs to Ryan, and he sounds more worried than I’ve ever heard him. “Jack, wake up, she’s sick, something’s wrong.”

I wave a hand behind me, trying to reassure him, trying to keep him from bringing the others over. This is utterly humiliating, and the last thing I want right now is an audience. I’m sure once I clear my stomach, I’ll feel better, and I’m just wishing I could have found a way to do it privately. For the first time in ages, I’m wishing I had a room of my own, as I did back with my old clan. There, at least, I would have been able to manage embarrassing bodily issues without everyone looking on.

But the others seem completely unaware of my shame, huddling around me, their voices heavy with concern. “Does she have a fever?” Luka asks anxiously.

Ryan’s hand moves from my back to my forehead. “Doesn’t feel like it,” he says.

“Stop it,” I moan. “I’m all right.” My stomach has settled a little bit, and I sit back and thrust the pot away so I won’t have to look at it. “I just woke up feeling off. It’s not a big deal.”

“Was the meat cooked all the way last night?” Jack asks. There’s an urgency in his voice. “It could be a bacteria...food poisoning....”

“Then we’d all be sick,” Ryan says.

“Not if Cami’s was the only piece that was underdone.”

“I cooked her steak just as well as everyone else’s,” Ryan says defensively.

“Ryan, I have to ask the question,” Jack snaps.

“Don’t yell,” I whisper, closing my eyes. Someone’s arms are supporting me. “The steak was fine. It wasn’t even pink in the middle. It was actually kind of overdone.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Ryan kisses my forehead. “I thought you liked my cooking.”

“I like Luka’s cooking. You’re a terrible cook, and you know it.”

“How do you feel now, Cami?” Jack asks, all business as always. “Still sick, or did that help?”

“No, I think I’m better now.” I sit up slowly, careful not to jostle myself. Luka hands me the water skin and I take a long drink. “Something I ate probably just didn’t settle that well, but I don’t think I’m actually sick.”

“Any other symptoms?” Jack asks.

“I’m just tired.”

“You’ll stay inside today,” he decides.

“I don’t need to stay in. The fresh air—”

“We have an open ceiling. Stay in and rest. It’s an order.”

Although I want to put up a show of disagreeing with him—I don’t want the others to see me as weak—I have to admit that a day spent indoors, resting and recuperating, sounds nice. I’m sure a day of uninterrupted sleep would allow me to shake off the exhaustion I’m still feeling, and on the off chance I get sick again, at least no one will be here to see it.

“Someone should stay with her,” Ryan says.

“No,” I argue. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s not a bad idea, Cami,” Jack says. He hasn’t given an order, but he looks like he’s seriously considering it. “If you need help, you don’t have a way of reaching us.”

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