Page 62 of His Impossible Elf Mate
Ívarr maintained I would have come out of it on my own, just for Axel’s sake, and had not needed my mother’s intervention. He had grown to be quite the romantic now that he had a woman to woo. Michaella was certainly softening his sharp edges. It was a pleasure to witness and something for Kelda to tease her brother over.
Walking back from Axel’s office with yet another security update turned into an afternoon date, complete with blowjobs in the woods behind the house, I began to feel peculiar.
My temperature began to fluctuate, like I was suffering from a fever. I debated going to the clinic to have Aldrin look at me, but wondered if I had just eaten something that didn’t agree with me at lunch.
With my new cell, I texted both Ívarr who was expecting me at the science center, and Axel, who would worry if he heard I had vanished. He needed to know I was home and safe. Though it was likely he would cut short his day to come home and check on me.
Messages sent and replies received, I headed back to our house. All I wanted to do was slake my thirst and fall into bed.
My skin felt like I was on fire. The fabric of my clothing itched and scraped over sensitive skin. The light of the afternoon stung my eyes.
All around me were shapes and colors, all blurred or out of focus. I winced at the throbbing in my head. It felt like something wanted to burst free.
Scents were impossibly strong, turning my stomach.
Sounds were far too loud, making me wince. I wondered if I would have the strength at home to cast a silencing bubble, or perhaps Axel had a witch ward to give me some peace.
Walking slowly, avoiding people as much as possible, I made it home. I poured a glass of water from the dispenser in the fridge. It was blessedly cool on my parched throat.
I set the empty glass down, suddenly feeling freezing. I wanted to burrow into our bed and surround myself with the scent of my mate.
Axel.
Regretting telling him not to come home, I stripped off my clammy, itchy clothing and got into bed. Wrapping the woolen blanket around me, I shivered, teeth chattering together.
It was tempting to call for Axel. He would know what to do. The only thing preventing me from doing so was a meeting he had to attend about a recent attack.
Wishing for him, I tried to lie down, to ease the ache in my limbs.
Something felt very wrong.
Instead, I focused my magic, trying to warm myself up, only for it to work too well. My blanket heated then with a flash of light, incinerated to ash.
The laugh that escaped me sounded manic, even to my own ears.
A fever came over me again, making me long for the cool waters of Sweetwater Lake. I sweated and panted, writhing with the sudden pain washing over me, locking my muscles.
I cried out, afraid of how quickly this illness was affecting me and the rapid changes of symptoms.
Pain ripped through me. Every nerve ablaze with a biting sensation.
Curling into a ball as best as I could, I tried to breathe through it all. I couldn’t reach my phone, it was toofar from my cramping fingers. Using magic was a risk I could not take, not after the blanket.
Then I was cold again. Ice felt like it was running through my veins, chilling me from the inside out.
“Axel,” I called into the empty room, scared and alone.
No, I had faith.
I remembered a distant dream of a woman under a tree.
Unnatural.
My mind lost its peace with another fever. This was unnatural.
This wasn’t an illness, it was a curse.
Unless it was a blessing.
