Chapter 45: A sick Alpha

*Julia*

I dine alone, blast him. He didn’t come to my room where I work with my watercolors. Nor did he visit Noa. His absence there is odd, as he seems to adore the girl. Was he only pretending in order to get into my good graces?

I don’t think so. From the moment my daughter was born, he could not have been more tender or expressed a more sincere interest in her well-being. Perhaps he is simply worn-out from his escapades. I know firsthand that he pours a great deal of effort and himself into the act of pleasure. As hard as I try, I have no success not envisioning his powerful muscles bunching and cording as he glides his body…

Damn him. Damn him for giving me a taste of what I cannot have. Damn my own weak body for wanting to be worshiped.

I spend most of the night writhing on the bed. Every time I drift off to sleep, I dream of him reaching for me. Even though he and Noah look exactly alike, I know it is Nick, because of his devilish smile and his smoldering eyes.

I awake in a foul mood, with a need to confront him, to face him, but fearing he would take satisfaction in my need to see him, that he would know he has sparked jealousy in me by spending multiple nights with another woman. Which is ridiculous, as I have no hold on him. I am a widow, in mourning. The last thing I should be thinking about is another man.

Still, I need to thank him for the tarts. It is unconscionable that I have yet to do so. Taking breakfast downstairs will allow me the opportunity to express my appreciation.

However when I enter the breakfast dining room, Rigdon informs me that the Alpha is taking breakfast in his room. First dinner and now breakfast? He is secluding himself as I have been. Why?

“Is he planning to have all his meals in his bedchamber?" I ask.

Looking somewhat guilty, Rigdon shifts his feet. “For the present time, yes."

I narrow my eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing my Luna.”

Oh there is something. Otherwise he wouldn’t have averted his eyes. Why is Nick staying in his room? Oh, dear Alpha! Did he bring the merry widow home with him? Has he sequestered himself away because he is coupling with her?

And what if he had? It isn’t my business. I can’t forbid him from bringing women into his own home, not like before when it was mine. Except that everyone thinks he is Noah being unfaithful to me. And that I cannot tolerate. He is disparaging Noah and my relationship with him.

Rigdon suddenly straightens his stance, squaring his jaw. “It’s not right, my Luna. On this matter, the Alpha is being most foolish."

Oh, God, I was correct and the servants know he is carrying on with some other woman. Why the devil couldn’t he have been discreet? The anger sweeps through me on such a rush of heated indignation…

“He ordered us not to tell you but I fear for him."

As well he should. I am going to do all within my power to ensure Nick is never able to show his face in a fancy parlor. To humiliate me like this is beyond the pale. I may even take a poker to him in his most private of areas to ensure he pleases no other widows.

“He has yet to retrieve the broth or water that Marlow left out for him," Rigdon tells me.

Broth? He is serving his mistress broth? Hardly the most charming means of seduction. Yet he brought me strawberry tarts. None of this makes any sense. I shake my head. “Marlow is leaving broth where?”

“In the hallway, outside his Alpha’s chamber door.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Because he’s forbidden anyone from going inside… unless the broth sits there for two days, at which point someone may enter. I suppose because Alpha Greystorm will be dead."

Does one die from excessive sex? I suppose it is possible, and isn’t an entirely unpleasant way to go…

“Rigdon, I’m not quite sure I follow.”

“Of course not, my Luna, because we’re not allowed to tell you."

I sigh. “Then I suggest you tell me.”

“He will sack me."

“I shall sack you if you don’t.”

NHe releases a big heavy sigh. “Very well. Alpha Greystorm is ill.”

“Ill?”

“Yes, madam. The Wolf flu. He feared that if he did not isolate himself…"

The remainder of his words fade into the background because I have already run out of the room and I am rushing down the hallway. My parents died of the flu. How has this come to pass? How did he get ill? He is too strong, too bold, too young to be taken down with an illness such as this.

Not until I reach his wing do I realize that I have no idea which room he has claimed as his own. Broth. I merely have to find the broth in the hallway. I sprint up the stairs. At the landing, I head toward the left.

I don’t need to locate the broth after all. Marlow is sitting in a chair at the end of the corridor. As I near, he comes to his feet. “Luna Greystorm."

I go past him.

“The Alpha doesn’t want…"

But his words, too, are lost as I shove open the door and dash over the threshold, coming to a staggering stop as I see Nick, lying in a tangle of sheets, the upper half of his body exposed and covered in sweat.

He pushes himself up, waving his hand. “You can’t be in here."

“And yet I am.”

As I cross over, he flops back onto the bed. “You need to leave.”

Ignoring him, I press the flat of my hand to his forehead. “You’re fairly on fire."

“Which is why you need to leave.”

Which is exactly why I won’t. Turning, I am grateful to see Marlow has followed me in, hovering just inside the doorway. “Have someone fetch the doctor.”

“There’s nothing he can do," Nick mutters.

“Oh, and when did you become an expert on medicine?”

“When I was caring for Mrs. Larking and her son.”

Who the devil are Mrs. Larking and her son? And where is Mr. Larking? Good Alpha, is it conceivable that he wasn’t fornicating with a widow but caring for one? “Is Mrs. Larking a widow?"

He gives a slight nod. “Her husband died recently. Fever. She was ill. The boy was ill. I shouldn’t have returned here. Should have stayed in the village, but I was just tired. Thought I was cold because of the weather.”

“Doesn’t matter. You should be home when you are ill. But why were you caring for this woman and her child?"

“No one else would.”

He stayed in the village to do good, and I assumed the worst. How much longer is it going to take before I accept that the man with whom I have been living for nearly three months now is the true Nick ? I turn to Marlow. “Send someone to fetch the doctor. He is to come as quickly as possible."

As Marlow leaves to do my bidding, I look back at Nick and pray that quickly as possible will be soon enough.

****

“You need to prepare yourself, Lina Greystorm,” the doctor says solemnly as he turns away from the bed. He reminds me of a dog that has been kicked. “It’s unlikely your husband will survive."

He may as well have bludgeoned me. I can’t breathe, can’t feel my fingers, or my toes. “There must be something you can do.”

Slowly, he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but there is no remedy I can offer for this illness."

“The woman he cared for, Mrs. Larking, did she die?" I ask.

"No."

“Her son?”

He shakes his head. “He recovered as well."

“What did he do for her?”

“It doesn’t matter what we do. Some people die, some don’t."

“Then what bloody good are you?" I spin away from him, trying to contain the tremors of anger and fear that are cascading through me. Whipping back around, I glare at him. “Be off with you.”

“I’m sorry…"

“I don’t want to hear it. Just go.” He shuffles out. I want to be sympathetic. He probably helplessly stood by while many died, but I can work up no sympathy when he isn’t even willing to try. I look over at Marlow, who stands just inside the door, a silent sentry. “Fetch me a bowl of cool water, some cloths, ice chips from the ice box, and some fresh broth."

He turns to leave, and I am struck with an idea. “And Mrs. Larking.”

He spins back around. “I beg your pardon?”

Unlike the doctor, I do not intend to stand helplessly by while some disease ravages this man who is far more noble than I have ever given him credit for. In my mind, I had accused him of fornication when he was actually caring for the ill. I am ashamed of the thoughts I had. I always expected the worst of him, but for nearly three months now he has shown me the best of himself. “Send a servant to the village to ask Mrs. Larking exactly how Alpha Greystorm took care of her. Have him write it all down. Even the smallest thing may be important.”

“My mum always recommended a hot toddy.”

Nick would certainly welcome that. “Thank you, Marlow. Fetch it as well.”

Leaving, he closes the door in his wake. I give my attention back to Nick. He seems to have drifted off. I can’t help but believe that time is of the essence. And now that we are alone, I can address him far more intimately. “Nick, Nick, I need you to wake up for just a bit."

His eyes flutters, then close.

“Listen to me. I’m sending a servant to talk with Mrs. Larking. But can you tell me what you did to help her get better?" I shake his shoulder. He fails to respond. I shake harder. “Nick, can you tell me what you did?”

Opening his eyes, he blinks at me. “I killed him. I killed Noah."