Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 177

Chapter 177: 177. Nesting

Maisie

The first morning, I thought I was dying.

I barely made it halfway out of Soren’s bed before my stomach revolted.

The sink caught the first splash of puke. My eyes watered as I retched, sobbing. Soren’s fingers delved into my hair, pulling it back from my face as I emptied out my stomach until there was nothing left to bring up except bile.

My ribs ached from retching. My vision blurred. Every muscle in my body cramped so violently that my legs gave out and I ended up curled on the floor, forehead pressed against the cold marble, shaking hard enough my teeth clattered.

Soren scooped me up.

"It’s okay," he murmured, carrying me back to bed as I moaned in pain. "I’ve got you."

"I’m going to die, aren’t I..."

The words dissolved into another violent gag.

Soren barely managed to lean me over a bucket before I was sick again.

Goddess.

It hurt. Everything hurt. My stomach. My head. My back. My eyes. Even my skin ached.

When the spasms finally stopped, I collapsed sideways against his chest, drenched in sweat and trembling so violently I couldn’t seem to stop. I passed out that way, wading in and out of consciousness. When I woke again much later, it was to multiple voices around me.

"Should it be this severe?" Jericho asked, and just hearing the strain in his voice made guilt curl inside me. He sounded troubled. "She can’t keep anything down."

"It will pass when her body acclimatizes to it," I heard someone else say. It sounded suspiciously like Memah. But the week wasn’t over. Had they summoned her here?

I tried to speak, but another cramp twisted through me and I reached blindly for the bucket.

Mercer’s hand was already there, holding it steady while Quinlan gathered my hair away from my face. "Let it all out, sweetheart."

By the time my stomach finally stopped rebelling, tears were streaming freely down my cheeks.

Someone else was rubbing my feet. Jericho, probably. My feet felt swollen.

There was an angry growl from Soren that I didn’t quite catch, but Memah said, "If you stop the treatment now, this will only happen again when she re-starts it. And it might be worse. Give it a couple of days, Your Highness. It will wear off."

The days blurred after that.

Morning. Bucket. Pain. Sweat. Shivering. Sleep.

Repeat.

Sometimes I woke with my head in Jericho’s lap. Sometimes Soren carried me to the bath because I was too weak to stand. Sometimes Quinlan talked in French for an hour straight because he noticed the sound of his voice got me to fall asleep faster. Sometimes Mercer simply held me while I shook.

I lost track of which day it was.

Then, somewhere between one miserable sunrise and the next, I noticed something else.

The silence in my head.

I had gotten so used to tuning my Lycan out that I didn’t notice it at first. The lack of scathing remarks about how I was all ass and tits with no sense. Or how I should have group sex more often, for therapeutic reasons. Or eating annoying people like Cole and Ryder. Or oudated recipes of apple pies and green milkshakes.

Nothing.

But it had to be because I was so exhausted.

Memah had said the tonic was forcing my body into a state it wasn’t meant to reach naturally. Maybe it was doing the same thing to my Lycan.

Her eyes drifted down the broad line of his back, skimming over where his fingers were entwined with mine--completely disregarding me--and lingered on his ass. "He could totally ruin my life and I’d say thank you and send him flowers." Her eyes lowered to his crotch and she whispered to her friend, "You think it curves?"

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify