Page 56 of Pack Plus Three

“Go away!” He tried to stand up but lost his footing and ended up back on the floor. Balling up his fist, he slammed it on the floor, like that would improve his situation.

“Okay, you can be mad at me all you want later, but why don't we get you to the armchair over there?” I suggested, nodding over to one of the stuffed high-back chairs in the corner of the room. “Or I could call Jeremy.”

Nate looked at me with anger. “Fine. Don’t fucking call him.”

“Then you better do as I say and let me help you. Come on, between the two of us, we almost have the strength of one human being,” I joked as I gently gripped his upper arm and helped him hobble over to the armchair.

“It’ll pass soon enough,” he grunted, not meeting my eye.

“Does this happen often?” I asked as he sank into the chair, visibly shaking.

“Every now and then,” he admitted.

“What helps?”

“There are pills...they’re in the top drawer of my bedside table. I’ll get them when this has passed.”

“I’ll get them now. Stay put,” I instructed, running out of the room before Nate could even open his mouth to complain. Running was the wrong word...it was more of a speedy waddle.

I had never been in Nate's room, but I knew where it was, thanks to Jeremy's tour when I’d first moved in. Thankfully, there was only one flight of stairs I needed to take. By the time I reached his door, I was huffing and puffing.

As I opened the door, Nate's scent hit me square in the face. Every member of this goddamn pack smelled like warmth, and Nate was no different. He smelled like delicious fresh baked bread or, possibly, pastry. Just warm and freshly baked. It kind of reminded me of toast that I'd left to cook until it was just a little browner than I usually liked.

Every time I had seen Nate, he had been dressed impeccably in a suit without a hair out of place, so I expected his bedroom to be a reflection of that. I don't know why, but I was imagining cool gray tones, an impeccably made bed and a closet where every coat hanger was exactly one inch apart.

The reality was very far from that.

Nate’s bedroom was chaos.

There wasn't a single surface devoid of clutter—textbooks piled up, knickknacks, and random shirts thrown over surfaces. His bed wasn't made and looked like someone had been tossing and turning in it all night. The sheet was even beginning to detach from the corner of the mattress.

There were piles of clothing on the floor and even a textbook he was using as a doorstop.

Taking in the space, I laughed silently to myself. It served me right for judging him. Padding over to the bedside table, I opened the drawer and was met with a mess of cables. How many power cables could one alpha own? Surely, he didn't own that many electrical devices.

Nestled between the cables, I spotted what I was looking for—the orange pill bottle. I had never heard of the name of the medication, so I was hoping it was what Nate needed.

Grabbing the bottle, I waddled back down to the office, taking a quick pit stop in my nest to grab a bottle of water out of the mini fridge.

“Okay, I've got your medication and a bottle of water. Is this the right stuff?” I asked as I entered the office.

Nate was slumped over in the armchair, his face pale. “Nate?” I asked, dashing over to him and giving his shoulder a small shake. “Nate? Talk to me. I swear to god, if you don't start talking to me right now, I'm calling Jeremy and Devon. Don’t test me!” My voice took on a shrill note as I spoke.

“I'm fine. I'm just exhausted,” he grumbled in a low voice that was so quiet, I almost didn’t hear it. “That’s the right one.” He nodded at the pill bottle in my hand.

“You're a funny man, you know that? You’re the furthest thing from fine right now!” I said as he lifted his head to look at me through blurry eyes. “Take these,” I instructed, popping open the pill bottle and placing two pills in his hand. He tossed the pills into his mouth, and I cracked open the bottle of water, handing it to him so he could take a sip. Once he was done, his head slumped back against the armchair, and he looked at me with an oddly neutral expression.

What was going through his mind? I knew he wasn't a fan of mine, but I didn’t think he hated me, either.

“How long does the medication take to kick in?” I asked. “You look really pale.”

“I’ve been busy with work, so I haven’t been taking my medication or injections all that regularly,” he admitted weakly.

“Okay.” I nodded. “Your butt needs to get to bed and rest.”

“I’ll be fine in ten,” he insisted.

“The only way you’ll be fine in ten minutes is for you to let me help you get back to your bedroom, so you can lie down in bed. I would insist on carrying you, but unfortunately, you are a lot bigger than me, and I am very pregnant.” I gestured to my stomach.

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