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16:03
Thu, 8 May
Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Felicia is struggling to breathe, her breathing is heavy and her words barely audible in the small, dark room. Nana is sitting beside her, washing the red, wet cloth and putting it on the head of the older woman’s forehead. She is burning with fever and every once in a while she can be heard coughing painfully, which makes Nana feel dizzy with fear.
She has gone through every concoction imaginable, from fresh vegetables picked from the garden to poultices she thought her mother used to apply from recipes she can barely recall.
The sparkle that used to be in Felicia’s eyes is gone, now her eyes are lifeless and deep set, she has also slimmed down.
“Nana,” she murmurs thickly, clutching her hand, the strength of which is beyond any expectation given her emaciated state. “You’ve done enough. Let me go.”
“Please don’t say that,” Nana retorts, tears pricking against the back of her eyes. Her throat is sore from the tears she has not shed. “You’re all I have, Felicia. No way I am giving up on you.”
Felicia attempts to speak again, however, she is again interrupted by a terrible cough. Blood stains splatter on the handkerchief in her hand and helplessness weighs heavily on Nana’s chest. She knows she has no choice. She needs stronger medicine. But getting it means taking a risk.
Nana takes a thin shawl from the rack by the bed and drapes it over herself when Felicia finally dozes off in an uneasy sleep. She looks out the small window, the light from the night illuminating the floor with an unnatural appearance.
The pack clinic is near, but there are many warriors in the packhouse due to the latest attack of rogues. Marco’s paranoia has doubled, and patrols have increased. There have also been rumors that more substantial forces are being readied. If she gets caught, no one knows what he will do to her.
She counts each breath as she tiptoes out of her room, down the hallway. Every creak of the wooden floor feels deafening, and she freezes each time, holding her breath and listening for footsteps. The sound of distant voices makes her heart race, but she pushes forward, determined.
The clinic is on the far side of the packhouse, past the warriors‘ quarters. She’s careful to avoid the main hall, sticking to the shadows and keeping her movements deliberate. When she reaches the clinic door, she presses her ear against it, listening.
It’s not as quiet as she expected, of course people were wounded just like Felicia but they are in there after being treated in the day while Felicia is dying like she wasn’t a part of the pack–no medical person’s inside. She pushes the door open, slipping in quickly and shutting it behind her. She can hear faint sounds of breathing from sick people lying in, but she needs to get to the drug store inside.
The store smells sterile, a sharp contrast to the earthy scents of her own remedies. Shelves line the walls, filled with bottles and jars labeled in neat handwriting, Nana scans the labels, looking for anything that might help with infection or fever. She spots a vial of antibiotics and reaches for it, her hands trembling
Just as she’s about to grab a second bottle, the sound of voices outside makes her freeze.
“Did you hear? Some of the warriors are saying The Alpha’s losing his edge,” one voice says, low but clear.
“Shut the fuck up,” another replies. “You want to get your throat ripped out? That asshole’s temper is worse than ever.”
Nana’s heart pounds in her ears as she crouches behind a counter, clutching the vials to her chest. The voices grow louder, and she realizes the warriors are standing night outside the door
“I’m just saying, man. Without the Lycan prince, what are we? A fucking joke. Alpha’s lucky he had that bastard locked up, or no one would’ve given a shit about this pack.”
There’s a pause, and Nana hears the sound of someone spitting. “Yeah, well, Alpha Marco better figure it out. Half the pack’s already questioning him. You think the rogues attacked because they felt like it? They know we’re weak now.”
Nana feels a mix of fear and satisfaction at their words. Marco’s grip on the pack is slipping, and it’s because of Lowell. But the thought of Marco discovering these whispers makes her stomach churn. His anger is already volatile, if he catches wind of this… She shakes her head. That’s not her concern right now.
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16:03 Thu, 8 May
Chapter 19
The voices fade a
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as the warriors move away, and Nana exhales shakily. She creeps out of her hiding spot and grabs a few more items before slipping out of the clinic. The trip back to her room feels twice as long, every shadow and sound amplified in her paranoid state. She nearly trips over a loose floorboard but manages to catch herself, biting down on a curse.
When she finally makes it back to her room, she slams the door shut and locks it, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. Felicia stirs at the noise, her eyes fluttering open.
“Nana?” she murmurs weakly.
“It’s okay,” Nana whispers, kneeling by her side and pulling out the vials. “I’ve got something that’ll help. Just hang on, okay?”
Felicia smiles faintly, but her expression is tinged with doubt. Nana doesn’t blame her. The old woman’s condition has worsened so quickly, it feels like trying to stop a flood with a bucket. But Nana refuses to give up. She administers the medication as best as she can, whispering reassurances even as doubt gnaws at her.
Outside, the sounds of the packhouse are restless, Warriors bark orders, and the occasional shout echoes through the halls. Marco’s frustration is palpable even from a distance. Nana knows that if he finds out she’s been sneaking around, there’ll be hell to pay. But right now, all that matters is keeping Felicia alive.
As she sits back and watches the old woman’s breathing steady, a small spark of hope flickers in her chest. It’s fragile, but it’s enough to keep her going.
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