Chapter 184
Fiona
“He’s stable for now, but if we don’t get this antidote made soon, the preventative treatment will become ineffective,” Healer Sarina tells Ryan as he lowers himself into the chair beside Ethan’s bed.
I study Ryan’s face, noting the dark bags under his eyes and the weary expression, the slump of his shoulders, and the heavy sigh that falls from his lips. He looks as tired as I feel, and that makes me realize that this is not only taking a toll on Ethan but all of us as well.
“I’ve contacted the Council to send us two healers and any of your requested ingredients that they have available,” Ryan says while scrubbing a hand down his face. “The representative I spoke with didn’t sound too happy about my demands, but they told me they would put my request in with the Council and the King since it’s such a dire situation. I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”
Nodding, I lean sit on the edge of Ethan’s bed and curl my fingers around his. Hopefully, they won’t take too long to approve the request since they know how urgent the circumstances are.
I take another sip of my calming, anti-nausea tea, and Ryan turns to look at me.
“And how are you feeling?”
“Me?” I blurt, surprised when he pins his curious gaze on me. Then, I notice how he glances at the three women behind me and then back at me, his eyes traveling down to my stomach. “What… You know, don’t you?”
He nods, shifting in the chair, leaning forward, and resting his elbows on his knees as he answers, “I could smell it on you before you took the suppressant. There was a slight change in your scent.”
“A change?”
“Yes. You smell more like Ethan, even though you hadn’t been around him. It was more than a surface scent, though, like he’d seeped into your skin and mixed with your own scent. It’s the scent your baby gives off, being part of him and part of you too,” he explains. The healers behind him nod, letting me know it’s the same thing they experienced.
“Stupid werewolves with your stupid crazy noses,” I grumble, crossing my arms.
Chuckling, Ryan pushes himself up and stretches. I’m sure he doesn’t mean to, but he groans as he straightens out.
“I have some pack business to take care of, but if you need anything, let me know.” I almost ask to stay and rest, but I don’t want to keep him from his important business. I’m sure it has something to do with Ethan’s father being difficult, which means he probably has to find a way to keep him from attacking whoever hurt Ethan.
I guess the life of a leader isn’t as easy as some people think.
Quietly, I pull my journal out of my satchel and slip out the Dentons’ front door. I don’t have time to sit around and rest like everyone wants. Waiting is the last thing Ethan needs, so after Ryan dropped me back off to the Dentons’ house this afternoon, I decided I’d go searching for the plants we need for the antidote.
I took a power nap, and as soon as I noticed the Dentons were asleep, I made my move.
Gripping the flashlight and journal in my hands, I walk across the yard and slip into the trees at the edge of the Dentons’ property.
Waiting for Ethan to die wasn’t an option for me, so I open my journal and flip through the pages until I find my drawings. After Ryan left yesterday, I spent the entire day drawing and labeling each ingredient we’ll need for the antidote, including the rare flower the healers told me is probably gone forever.
While researching the Moonlight Fire Lily, I found that it only blooms in full moonlight as well as only blooming in the wild. The image in Sarina’s plant species book was orange and red with hints of yellow at the tips of the petals, making it bright and hopefully easy to locate.
I don’t want to believe it, though, so I click on my flashlight and sweep it across the forest floor. Several plants grow around the bottoms of the trees, and as the light touches a white flower off to my left, I pause.
The flower is barely bigger than my finger, but the leaves surrounding the bottom of the grouping of flowers reach up, nearly wrapping around the petals.
White Miller Leaves- it’s the second ingredient I have drawn in my journal.
Hope slivers into my chest as I crouch down and pick several of the flowers, tucking them into the plastic bag I brought, labeling it with the name. One down, nine to go.
Whatever I can’t find tonight, I’ll ask the healers for, and if they don’t have it, we can ask the healers Ryan contacted to bring them. However, if I can find all the needed ingredients myself, I won’t need to wait for anyone else to show up.
I shove the plastic bag back into my satchel, check off the White Miller Leaves from my list, and turn to the forest again. I can do this. For Ethan. For me. For our baby.
Using those thoughts to push me forward, I continue searching, looking for anywhere a rare flower might want to bloom. I have faith I can make it through this and find what I need. I just have to keep going. I can’t quit, so I begin wracking my brain as I walk.
If I were a flower that only bloomed in sunlight, I’d want to be in a clearing or somewhere I could get direct light that isn’t blocked by anything. However, because it only blooms in the wild, it has to be in the forest somewhere.
I wish I’d been able to ask more questions about the geography of the forest, but the healers would’ve gotten suspicious. I couldn’t risk letting them know my plans because they surely would’ve stopped me.
Wind swishes through the trees and somewhere above me an owl hoots, sending an uneasy shiver down my spine. Maybe I should’ve asked Ryan to come. I don’t know my way around this land, or any land really, and there’s no telling what else could be out here with me.
He told me I should be safe here, but—
My foot snags on a root, tripping me and sending me tumbling to the ground. Pain sparks in my hand as my flashlight rolls out of reach, and I curse. Just what I need. Can’t anything go my way? Just once?
“You can do this, Fiona,” I whisper, pushing myself up. “You’ve got th—”
Light shines on a bush with blue berries sprinkled between the leaves, and I gasp. Blue Farrow Berry roots are on my list, and as I crawl forward, I grab my flashlight and my journal. My eyes flit over the page, moving to the bottom where I drew the Blue Farrow Berry bush and roots.
I compare the two, noting the waxy leaves, the white streaks in the stems of the bush, and the slight point to the top of the berries. It looks the same as far as I can tell, so I push the underbrush aside and sink my fingers into the dirt.
Digging through the dirt, I go deeper until I find the webby roots that reach into the ground. Without letting the roots get too damaged, I use the little knife I packed and cut several sections to put into the plastic bag I labeled Blue Farrow Berry roots.
Two down, eight to go.
Once I have the roots safely stored in my bag, I pick up my things and stand. If things keep going this well, I may be able to find everything tonight.
Snap
The sound makes me freeze, and I’m completely and utterly aware that I didn’t step on a twig.
Someone, or something else, did.
