Page 50 of Pucking the Enemy

After our movie night, we took her home with a box of Belgian waffles, and she had sleepily hugged us all goodbye before she crawled into her nest. My bed had felt oddly empty that night, and I wanted her back there as soon as possible.

“Duchess! Did you try the pecan pie I sent?” It was my favorite, and I wanted her to try it so we could both bask in its glory. I refused to share said pie with my pack mates, but I would be nice and share it with Hazel.

“I haven’t yet.” Her voice was rough, so I sat up straighter, discarding my controller, the game in front of me forgotten.

“Are you sick again?” I asked.

“I think so. I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you give me a lift to the clinic? It’s really bad. I would get Sebastian to help me, but he’s still not talking to me, really.”

An irrational anger rose in my chest at the idea of Sebastian helping her instead of us.

Both Phillip and Cormac were at practice, so I was on my own. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I assured her.

“Thank you,” she whimpered weakly.

Cursing the distance between us, I quickly threw on the first pair of shoes I could find and made my way to my car, peeling out of the drive at a breakneck speed. If I could live on the Hawking campus, I would do it in a heartbeat to be closer to her. Hazel was a stubborn omega, and for her to willingly call me and ask for help, I knew she had to be feeling like complete trash.

Parking outside Dallas House, I knew there was no way to avoid a ticket, but that was the last thing on my mind.

“Hey, Oliver!” I greeted the doorman as I rushed past.

“Hello, Mr. Kingswood!” He shouted at my retreating form. We’d met the first time I came to look after Hazel, and she had put me on her approved visitors list.

Not bothering with the elevators, I took the stairs two at a time. I knocked on her door, then waited three seconds before becoming impatient and opening the door.

A quick glance around her room let me know that she wasn’t in her nest or in any of the obvious areas, so I made my way toward the bathroom. The door was open, so I walked right in.

Hazel was sitting on the floor next to the toilet, her head resting on her knee. In the spacious bathroom, she looked tiny and frail.

My chest stuttered at the sight of her. This wasn’t working. She needed someone to take care of her.

“Duchess?” I kept my voice low and soothing as I crouched next to her.

“Roman?” Her voice held a question as her eyes blearily opened and she took me in. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t you remember calling me?” I asked, gently reaching out to feel her forehead. Her skin was cold and clammy, and she was far too pale overall. My concern was only intensified by the fact she didn’t seem to remember calling me only twenty minutes ago.

“Oh… did I? I don’t feel so good. My head is pounding.” She groaned. “I haven’t been able to keep anything down in days again.”

“I’m taking you to the doctor,” I declared.

“The clinic may not be open now. They close early,” she mumbled, unable to fully open her eyes.

“Not taking you to a small student clinic. I’m taking you to an actual doctor’s office . They’ll know more about your condition.”

Hazel’s eyes snapped open. “No!” she cried. “I can’t go to my regular doctor who will tell my parents I’m pregnant. They’ll tell me I disappointed them. They’ll shout. I just, I can’t.” Her chest started to heave with panic as tears filled her eyes.

“No,” I rushed to reassure her. “Don’t worry. I’ll take you to the pack’s doctors. We pay them very well, and they will keep quiet. I would much rather you talk to an actual pregnancy doctor and not a student doctor, okay?”

Her wide eyes were hazy, and she may have been thinking, or she may have been trying to gather her thoughts, but either way, I took her silence as acceptance. I made a mental note to ask her about her family later.

“Come on, Duchess.” I slipped my arms under her legs and lifted her up. She weighed nothing in my arms, and I frowned down at her as her head lolled on my chest. She hadn’t been that light when I had picked her up during her heat. Just how much weight had she lost?

Thankfully, the coast was clear as I took her downstairs. There were no other students milling around.

“I can walk,” she mumbled into my chest as I carried her bridal style.

“Sure you can, Duchess, but why make the effort?” I laughed. There was no way in hell she could walk in a straight line at that moment, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. Knowing Hazel, she would have insisted on walking, then fallen headfirst down a set of stairs.

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