Luna of Rogues

Part 34 - Playing by the Rules

Okay, okay I know I said every other Monday. But the updating less plan can go to hell because I've been waking up in the morning with 60+ notifications :o That means y'all are getting chapters twice a week even if it kills me.

The rest of the lunch break passed far too quickly. We fell into a familiar routine of insulting each other and joking about things which weren't funny. By the time we started down the mountain, I was beginning to wonder if Maggie had spiked our water bottles with vodka.

Walking downhill was, as always, easier than walking uphill. Yet we took it slowly in consideration for our full stomachs. Fion lagged behind all the way, dropping right to the back as we approached the church. Leo and I waited for her when we realised, even though Rhys was already hovering at her elbow.

I glanced her up and down. "You alright?"

From the annoyed look she shot me, I knew Rhys had been pestering her too. "Yeah, I guess. Just feeling sick."

"Like queasy sick, or I'm-going-to-throw-up sick?" I asked.

"The second one," Fion admitted reluctantly. She would rather suffer in silence than have us fussing.

I didn't realise quite how literally she meant it until yellowy nausea flooded across the link. She must have been overwhelmed enough to lose her grip on the mind-link, which was rare, but an occupational hazard of her overly-sensitive mind.

We barely made it to the church in time. I had taken a chance that there would be toilets, which paid off, even though some part of me hoped she would vomit on the packmeet table just to spite the Alphas. But as my luck would have it, there was a single toilet stall in the back of the building, and that's where Fion ended up retching her guts out.

I slammed the door in the boys' faces and knelt beside her, holding her hair out of the way and trying to ignore the insistent hammering on the door. Although those sounds stopped as soon as the vomiting noises started.

"Is she being sick?" Rhys yelled the question loud enough to startle a dormouse. The tiny rodent dashed from its hiding place to take refuge in the sewage pipes. Nice.

"No," I shouted back. "She's making an offering of stomach acid and half-digested food to the toilet gods!"

Genuine confusion. "What?"

"She's being sick, Rhys," Leo sighed.

Fion gave one last retch and tried to stand up, only to end up on her knees again. I squeezed her shoulder and went to the sink for her. There was a chipped mug full of toothbrushes, so I emptied it and refilled it with tap water. What was with the toothbrushes, anyway? Somehow I couldn't see the Alphas having a sleepover.

Fion gulped and spat out water until the taste of vomit was gone, then slumped against the wall. Weird. It could have been something she ate, but I had eaten exactly the same and felt fine. She couldn't have been ill either — I'd have smelt it on her. So that only left one thing...

"Fion, is there any chance you could be—"

She shook her head vigorously, warning me to shut my mouth before the idiots outside heard anything. I took the hint.

There was a tentative knock on the door, and this time I opened it. Rhys poked his head in, the look on his face making his concern when the tree fell on my leg feel non-existent by comparison.

"What's wrong?" he asked cautiously.

Fion's glance at me was nothing short of pleading. She didn't want him to know, and he hadn't guessed, so it probably hadn't been him... A horrible thought occurred to me. So horrible that I physically recoiled and had to shove down my wolf.