My hands shook for the third time. The bread dough was soft and pliable, but my hands refused to flex. The shaking grew worse. I held my sticky hands over the big mixing bowl, and watched them jitter with growing horror.
Not again. Not now.
Ever since I was a kid, I had weird bursts of energy followed by days when I couldn't get out of bed. Restless nights, tossing and turning. Body aches bad enough I wanted to cry.
If there was a pattern, my Nan and I couldn’t figure it out. This most recent bout of strangeness didn't show any signs of getting better.
It felt like it was getting worse.
Awareness of my skin increased until every grain of flour felt like a splinter, the globules of eggs runny enough to make me gag.
I took a deep breath and let it out. It would go away. It always went away after a minute of relaxing. The flour stuck between my fingers was too thick, too wrong, even though I used to revel in the feeling of my hands in dough.
I swallowed hard, faint dredges of tea Nan brewed every morning still on my tongue. A shiver started from the tips of my toes, wiggling in my sandals, and then moved up my legs, my thighs, my back, stealing my breath. Every heartbeat felt like the crashing of a drum, every push of air the bellows of the blacksmith.
The yeasty scent of the kitchen grew stronger. I took shallow breaths until even that was too much. I staggered over to an open window. Birds chirped outside, waiting for the stale crumbs I fed them.
The gust of wind from their wings was a hurricane against my face, the clopping of horse hooves on the cobblestone deafening thunder.
"You about done with those sweet rolls—" Nan stepped into the kitchen and paused.
I tried to speak, but my tongue was too heavy in my mouth.
"What's wrong?" In the morning sunlight, Nan's weathered face seemed older, every line standing out in stark relief. Her blue eyes were are sharp as ever and saw right through me.
"I feel strange." I let out a breath. "I'm okay."
Her frown deepened. "You're not pregnant, are you?"
She asked so matter of factly, I had to laugh. "No."
"You haven’t had any young men hanging around, but that doesn't mean you haven't been seeing someone when you go to the market."
The odd feeling slowly went away. I still felt like I was stuck between a dream and wakefulness, but I could talk without getting distracted by the sound of my voice. "I don't have time."
Or interest. I was busy with the bakery, and most of the young men in the village wanted a dutiful wife. I didn't want to give up the bakery, so we were at a standstill. It has been months since I'd even felt desire, and that was expected. Jaiyen, my childhood crush, had switched to being alpha when I was fifteen. He was still unbonded, and the last time he was in town my body reminded me of that fact.
Never mind I wasn't an omega, that Jaiyen had never given me the time of day. He was a gorgeous specimen of a man, all that alpha energy bursting off him in waves, and there wasn't a woman that didn't notice it when he passed by.
Nan put her hand on my forehead and tsked. "You're flushed. The Priestess is stopping by tomorrow, but I guess that won't matter."
I went over to the sink and pumped some water into the basin. I rinsed the sticky flour off my hands. "I'm just getting overheated."
Nan tsked again. It was early springtime, and I didn't get overheated in the kitchen even when summer's heat was in full swing.
"It's been a while since you had one of your episodes. There's that to be thankful for."
I grumbled. The last episode, as Nan called them, was late winter, when I was seeing flashes of light out of the corners of my eye, but that had only lasted a month, gods be thanked. Since then, everything had been normal, and I allowed myself to hope my body had sorted itself out.
Apparently, I was wrong.
"Let me start the pastry after I finish off this dough." I picked up the sweet roll dough and started kneading it again. Thankfully, I didn't add yeast yet, so the dough wasn't rising while half mixed.
I'd have to concentrate if I wanted to prepare the Priestess's favorite treats. There was no room for error.
"Finish your rolls, and then take a break. I was going to let Missy assist anyway."
"You need her in the front."