Something Wrong

Something Wrong
A week passed. Then another. The work continued. I met with Kiera's council. Reviewed documents. Negotiated terms. Sent reports back to Connor. Everything was progressing. Everything was on schedule. Except something felt wrong with my body.

At first, I thought it was stress. Exhaustion from the journey. The emotional toll of leaving. The constant effort of blocking the bond.

All reasonable explanations. All logical. I ignored it. Pushed through. Kept working.

But it got worse. Small things at first. I'd wake up dizzy. Have to sit on the edge of the bed for a few minutes before standing. My appetite changed. Foods I usually loved smelled wrong. Made my stomach turn. I ate anyway. Forced it down. Told myself I just needed to adjust to the northern pack's cooking.

Then came the fatigue. Bone-deep. Overwhelming. I'd finish a meeting and want to collapse. Want to sleep for hours. Inappropriate for a warrior in her prime. For someone on an important mission. I drank more water. Took brief rests when no one was watching. Pretended everything was normal.

My wolf noticed. Stirred more than she had in days. Alert. Curious. Something was different. Something important. But she couldn't communicate what. Just paced inside me with renewed energy. Renewed purpose.

The morning sickness started on day twelve. Woke up and barely made it to the washbasin before I vomited. Everything I'd eaten the night before came up. Left me shaking. Weak. Confused.

I blamed it on bad meat. On my system rejecting the change in diet. On anything except the obvious. Washed my face. Steadied myself. Went to the day's meetings like nothing had happened.

But it happened again the next morning. And the next. Always at dawn. Always violent. Always leaving me exhausted. I started keeping the washbasin next to my bed. Started expecting it. Started planning around it.

The heightened senses came next. Smells overwhelmed me. Could detect things from across the settlement that should have been unnoticeable. Perfumes. Sweat. Food. Everything was amplified. Made me nauseous constantly. Made me avoid crowded spaces. Made meetings torture.

My emotions were unstable. Volatile. I'd feel fine one moment. Then rage the next. Then sadness. Then nothing. The swings were extreme. Uncontrollable. Not like me at all. I was trained. Disciplined. Masters of my reactions. This wasn't normal. This was wrong.

On day fifteen, I was in a meeting about border patrols. Kiera was explaining their rotation system. Standard information. Boring. Necessary. I was taking notes. Participating appropriately. Then one of her advisors made a joke. Something harmless. Something that should have gotten a polite smile at most.

I started crying. Just suddenly. Tears running down my face without warning. Without reason. I couldn't stop them. Couldn't control it. Just sat there crying while everyone stared. Mortified. Confused. Concerned.

I excused myself. Left the room. Went back to my quarters. Sat on the bed. Stared at the wall. Let the tears continue until they finally stopped. What was wrong with me? This wasn't stress. Wasn't exhaustion. Wasn't grief. This was something else. Something physical. Something real.

My wolf pushed forward. Insistent. Demanding attention. She knew. Had known for days. Was trying to tell me. I finally listened. Finally paid attention. Finally let myself consider the impossible. No. Not impossible. Just unwanted. Just terrifying. Just life-changing.

I was late. Hadn't bled since before leaving home. Hadn't even thought about it with everything else happening. But now I counted back. Calculated days. Realized it had been too long. Much too long.

The symptoms fit. The nausea. The fatigue. The emotional instability. The heightened senses. All classic signs. All pointing to one conclusion. I stood up. Paced the small room. Tried to deny it. Tried to find another explanation. Couldn't. There wasn't one. I needed to be sure. Needed confirmation. Needed to know for certain before I let myself believe it.

The northern pack had a healer. An older woman who'd treated a minor injury one of my guards sustained during training. I'd met her briefly. She seemed competent. Knowledgeable. Discreet.

I found her in the medical house. A small stone structure near the center of the settlement. She looked up when I entered. Smiled warmly.

"Lyra," she said. "What can I do for you?"

I closed the door behind me. Made sure we were alone. "I need you to check something."

"Of course. What symptoms are you experiencing?"

I told her. Listed everything. The nausea. The fatigue. The dizziness. The emotional changes. The missed cycle. She listened carefully. Her expression shifted. Understanding. Knowing.

"I see," she said quietly. "And you suspect...?"

"Yes. But I need to be sure."

She nodded. Gestured to the examination table. "Lie down. I'll check."

I was terrified, but I did. Lay back on the cold surface.

I needed a negative answer. My life was breaking apart and such a change would finally tear it up entirely. Or maybe fix it. I had no way to know that yet.