Chapter 16: The Morning Lemon
"Oh my god, Mr. Henster," Cherion mumbled into the fabric, his voice thick and distorted with sleep. "I swear... go to the doctor. The walls are paper thin, man. So of us have a double shift."
Sleep was a heavy, suffocating blanket that Cherion wasn’t ready to throw off. He groaned, instinctively burying his face deeper into the plush silk of the pillow, trying to muffle the violent, repetitive sound rattling through the room. It was a wet, jagged noise, the kind that makes your own throat ache just hearing it.
"Khu-hak! Hak-ugh... wheeze..."
He waited for the silence of his old apartnt to return. But the sound didn’t stop. It grew more frantic, a rhythmic convulsing that made the very mattress beneath him tremble.
Cherion’s eyes snapped open. The light of a Northern morning filtered through heavy drapes. He wasn’t in his polyester uniform, he was tangled in sheets that cost more than his old life.
He bolted upright. Beside him, sitting on the edge of the massive bed, was Zarius. The Alpha was hunched over, his broad shoulders heaving, his face buried in a trembling hand as he tried to stifle a cough that sounded like it was trying to tear his lungs out through his throat.
Right. Not the apartnt. The novel. The curse.
"Alpha?" Cherion gasped, scooting across the mattress. The transition from the powerful, moonlit beast of the previous night to this shattered, gray version of a man was enough to give anyone whiplash. "Are you... are you okay?"
Zarius didn’t look at him. He couldn’t. Between two agonizing, racking heaves, "Ugh-hak! Kkhh!
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