Page 147 of The Ashpaw: Part One

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, tears falling down her face.

Serich held her hands, giving them a squeeze. “Your body is ready, there’s no need to be scared. With the increased slick and loosening of your joints—”

“I don’t mean physically,” she answered quickly with a sniff. “I mean… Darion can’t. He won’t bed me.”

The healer’s eyes widened in shock. “Whatever do you mean? Of course he will, you’re his Naravekh, his omega. Tending you in heat is his greatest duty and honor as your alpha.”

“You don’t understand,” she cried. Serich grabbed a small clean linen strip, wiping her cheeks. “He promised Lady Kyntha he wouldn’t lay with me until after the mating ceremony, and that’s still days away.”

Now Serich was truly shocked. “He made such a promise? But… but why?”

Fern snorted, giving him a pointed look. “Why do you think?”

He pursed his shaking lips in frustration, and then let out a defeated sigh. “I cannot speak ill of my clan’s alphas. What would you have me do, Lady Fern?”

“Is there a way to stop it?”

Serich looked even more upset now. “I don’t believe so, and I don’t think it’s right, but for you, I will see if there’s any research on the topic. In the meantime…” He walked towards one of the shelves holding the jars of various plants, and pulled one down.

“Willow bark,” he explained. “You can chew it or brew it into a tea. It will relieve your pain and lower the fever for now.”

He took out several strips and wrapped them in a square of fabric. Then he went to another shelf, and took a small, blue bottle filled with liquid.

“Witch hazel tonic. Apply it to your neck, wrists, inner elbows, behind your ears and between your thighs. This will mask your scent.”

He handed both to her.

“You take these, and I will look through my texts and see if there’s anything I can find about delaying the onset or suppressing estrus entirely.”

Fern nodded, her initial distress turning into something numb now. She retreated further inside, finding safety for the impending trauma. “Thank you, Serich. I… I will try to do some research myself.”

Serich patted the book he’d shown her. “There’s a copy of this in the castle library, as well as other accounts that may contain helpful information. And if anything worsens, please feel free to come back.”

Clutching the package of willow bark to her chest and pocketing the tonic, she walked to the door, yelping when a Solvekh attendant nearly fell in as she opened it.

“O-oh, my deepest apologies,” she said, straightening her skirts and averting her gaze. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Fern nodded in acknowledgment and then left, finding Lucas waiting around the corner.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Estrus is your most fertile cycle,” Serich explained. “Your body is preparing itself for breeding, and it will be your main focus. Not food, nor sleep, nor anything else. Physical and emotional relief will only come with sex, and without it…”

Fern swallowed. “Without it?”

“You will experience crippling pain. Invasive thoughts of worthlessness. Or even…”

She closed her eyes.

“I hope so.”

* * *

A few wolfkin drifted in and out of the library as she read—Lurvekh who were looking for books for pleasure or study, or Solvekh coming through to clean.

She sat near an open window and as far from the fire as she could. Heat would cause her to sweat. Sweat would carry her scent. Her scent would attract wolfkin.

And for now, she needed to be invisible.