Page 31 of How to Keep a Fae

“Adaline! Goddess, what are you doing? Why did you not call for help?” She presses her hand to my forehead. “You are burning up!”

“I don’t want to go.” I push the words out between the frantic chatting of my teeth. Between my legs is a sticky mess and a terrible empty ache for a male to tend me.

Conflict is reflected in Dede’s eyes.

“Please,” I beg. “Don’t tell Denna. She will send me to the hall of solitude. The warriors will return soon. I can bear it until then.” I had a wild notion that they could claim me, but that is not the only force bearing upon me. “What if I am not here? What if they go to someone else?”

“My sweet, dearest friend. You cannot bear this. No omega can. Denna sent me to look for you. We cannot hide this. She expects you to be in the day room—she will come searching if we do not arrive soon. And you are suffering so very much. It breaks me to see you hurting like this.”

I fall to sobbing, and it only makes the pain wracking me worse.

“Tell her something, anything,” I beg. “Do not let her give me the herbs.”

She rises and paces. Through my bleary eyes, I see tears on her cheeks.

“I will do it,” she says. “And even though I hate to see you like this, I will try if it is what you want.”

“Please,” I say.

“Dede! Adaline!”

The house mistress’s voice rings like a proclamation of doom. The curtain is thrust open, and she strides in.

“She is not well,” Dede stammers.

“Foolish feeders,” Denna hisses. “The fae has gone into heat. Why did you not send for me in an instant? You play with her life to hide this!”

What follows is a blur as I’m taken to the isolated chambers where they put feeder omegas during their heat. It is dark and quiet.

As bitter drink is forced upon me, one that takes the edge off my pain, I know even should my warriors be here and find some secret way to meet me, it would be too late.

It seems obvious now, even in my befuddled state, that the herbs would mitigate any hope of mating.

Sharp words are spoken, but I am too far gone to make sense.

The door slams shut.

Dede dashes to my side, pressing a cool, damp cloth to my forehead and throat.

We have done this many times for each other over the years, offering what small comfort we can to each other. When the heat fever reaches its peak, she coaxes me to the bathing chamber where, teeth chattering, I sink into cool water.

I return to the bed, where another bitter drink is pressed upon me.

Even drugged with the herbs, I float in and out of potent hallucinations where my warriors return. Coming to me here. Tending me. Claiming me. Dreams so perfect and life-like thatI weep for the loss when my heat finally abates and I come out the other side empty and raw.

“You’ve been so brave, Adaline,” Dede says, her voice little more than a whisper as I sob, grieving for something that was never mine—grieving for an illusion. “There is a fresh bath waiting. Come, you will feel better for being clean.”

I let her guide me. My legs shake as she helps me into the bathing chamber, where a bath full of warm water is ready.

Dede pulls up a stool beside me and helps me to bathe.

“Did they come looking for me?” I ask.

“I have been with you the whole time,” she says. “I do not know.”

“Will you find out for me, please?”

Her eyes glisten. “Don’t ask. You never asked before.”

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