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Charis

Slater pulled the thermoter from my mouth, squinting at it with a frown on his face that made worry.

"What does it say?" I asked, already dreading the answer.

"You’re at thirty-nine degrees now," he muttered, shaking his head. "It’s still not good, Charis. I don’t understand why you’d suddenly develop a fever a few hours before your birthday."

I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile, leaning back against the couch. "Hey, at least the fever has co down by two degrees since this morning. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine."

Shortly after Kael left, I felt dizzy and would have fallen to the ground if Slater had not rushed imdiately to hold . What started as lightheadedness transford into a full-blown fever. In the last few hours, Slater had been trying to regulate my temperature.

"How about I just call Marcus and have him cancel the birthday party?" Slater suggested. "You need to be in bed, resting and taking fluids."

"What if Marcus insists I go to the school clinic?" I countered. "Relax, Slater. It’s probably just stress, but I’ll be fine."

He glanced at the thermoter again, like maybe it would magically change its reading. Then he sighed heavily. "Fine. But I’m dressing you in warm clothes. And—oh—how about I call Rhett and ask if Sarah can spare us so fever broth?"

"Fever broth?" My eyes widened.

"Yeah," Slater nodded with a fond smile. "It’s a special recipe, Sarah created for Rhett, for whenever he has a fever. I’ve had it before, and I was better in less than two hours."

"No," I shook my head. "I don’t want to bother anyone. Rhett said Lydia was coming anyway. They’ll be busy."

The mont I said her na, that familiar pang of jealousy shot through my chest, just as it had when we’d accompanied Rhett to Night Moon Pack for his first eting with his intended bride and mate-to-be.

Because it was an arranged marriage, I’d foolishly assud that the girl would be plain or, at worst, a little awkward. But when Alpha Marlowe brought Lydia to et us, we all stared with our jaws hanging open.

Lydia was a vision of beauty, femininity, and grace; everything I could never be with or without my disguise. She had flowing dark hair, striking green eyes, soft hands and shiny skin. She moved with natural elegance that cos from a lifeti of proper breeding and education.

Sure, she wasn’t particularly brilliant, but she wasn’t annoying either. No matter how much I tried to tell myself I was OK with the arrangent, I’d left Night Moon Pack with my chest tight with jealousy.

"How about I ask Kael for so fever dication?" Slater suggested again. "His first-aid box contains a lot of items. Should I go ask?"

"No, Slater, jeez!" I snapped, feeling irritated at the thought of Rhett and Lydia together right now and probably kissing and touching each other. "I said it’s fine. I’m fine. Didn’t you hear the first ti?"

Slater paused, taken aback by my outburst. He walked toward the kitchenette while I ran my hands through my hair, which was already growing longer and becoming increasingly difficult to maintain, trying to calm myself down.

A mont later, Slater returned, carrying the full-body suit Rhett had given .

"Arm up," he ordered.

I obeyed, and he helped put on the suit. Then, he proceeded to layer my clothes to trap in the heat and keep warm. But by the ti he finished dressing , I was gritting my teeth to stop the shivers crawling through .

Slater took one look at , gently deposited on the couch, and tried to cover up with a blanket.

I shook it off, staring at him strangely. What are you doing? It’s 9:45 pm already. We should be on our way now, else we’ll go later," I said through chattering teeth.

"Charis, you’re not going to the party."

"Yes, I am," I insisted.

"Don’t be so difficult," he sighed. "Look at you, you’re burning up. What kind of person would I be to let you walk into a room full of people and then leave you out in the cold? You should be in bed resting and not trying to attend so outdoor party."

"I have to go," I insisted through chattering teeth again. "If I don’t show up, Marcus will ask questions. He might send soone to check on ."

"Then we’ll tell him you’re sick!"

"And what if he insists on taking to the dical wing? What if they run tests?" I argued. "I can’t risk that any kind of dical examination right now."

"Charis, you can barely stand up straight," he protested.

"I’ll just show up to avoid problems with Marcus and leave imdiately," I said with a convincing tone. "He must have spent a fortune trying to organise the birthday party. I cannot just bail out on him last minute."

"What if you go unconscious within these few minutes. Is a stupid party more important than your life?"

"I’ve suffered worse things than having a fever, Slater. You’re overreacting."

"Oh!" he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "I am overreacting?’ How about you? See how you’re shaking like a leaf and—"

"Five minutes!" I raised my hands in defeat. "I’ll show up and stay for five minutes."

"Five minutes, just enough to be seen, then we’ll co back. Please..."

We glared at each other in silence for a mont. Slater looked torn between concern for my health and my desire to show up.

"Fine," he said finally. "Ten minutes and we start heading back."

We left his room together, and when we arrived at the outdoor swimming area by the garden, I was surprised to see the entire place packed with students.

The venue had been transford into an impressive party space. String lights hung between trees, tables were filled with food and drinks, and clusters of students were already drinking and socialising. Soft music played in the background, creating a festive atmosphere.

Marcus stood near the entrance of the poolside, chatting with soone and was the first to spot us when we arrived. He excused himself and approached us with a warm smile.

"I thought you weren’t going to show up," he said with a slight scoff.

"He’s sick," Slater said woodenly. "We just ca from the school clinic, and he was told to rest. But he stubbornly insisted on coming out here. Can he go now?"

Marcus arched an eyebrow at this information, studying Slater for several seconds before turning to .

"Eamon, do you want to go?" he asked.

"No," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Slater turned to with an exasperated stare. "Seriously? Are you forgetting our agreent?"

"Relax, Riggs," Marcus chuckled, giving Slater a friendly thump on the back. "He’ll be fine soon. The dication will take effect, and he’ll return to normal. Co on, let’s go to our stand and let the birthday celebration begin."

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