Chapter 33: Spores and Consequences
FIA
I was still staring at the red welts crawling up my arm when the oga spun around and bolted from my doorway.
"Wait!" I called after her, but she was already gone. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway, fast and frantic.
I stood there for a mont, confused. Then I heard her voice from sowhere deeper in the house, shrill and panicked.
"Get Doctor Maren! Now! The Luna is sick!"
Luna. That word again. But this ti it wasn’t said with contempt. This ti it sounded like fear.
I heard more footsteps. Multiple sets of them, running. I backed into my room just as three more ogas appeared in my doorway. They all looked at
with the sa expression the first oga had worn. Wide eyes. Pale faces. Pure terror.
"Let
see," one of them said, moving forward without asking permission.
She grabbed my arm and examined the rash. Her breath caught.
"Goddess," she whispered. "How long have you been itching?"
"Since I woke up." I pulled my arm back. "It’s not that bad."
"Not that bad?" She looked at
like I was insane. "This is a full allergic reaction. You’ve been breathing in mold spores all night."
The other ogas were already moving through the room. One stripped the bed, yanking off the damp sheets and blanket with jerky movents. Another rushed to the window and forced it open wider. The third stood in the middle of the floor wringing her hands.
"We need to get rid of all of this," the first oga said. "Everything. The bedding, the curtains, all of it."
They worked fast. Too fast. Like they were trying to erase evidence of a cri. Which I guess they were. The sheets went into a pile by the door. The curtains ca down. Soone found a towel and started scrubbing at the mold in the corner even though it was clearly a lost cause.
I just stood there watching them panic.
A new voice ca from the hallway. Calm. Professional. "Move aside."
The ogas scattered like startled birds.
A woman stepped into the room carrying a leather dical bag. I recognized her imdiately. She was the doctor from before. But she looked older this morning. Probably because she was woken up and still hadn’t had ti to do her morning routine. Still her dark hair was pulled back in a neat bun. Her eyes were sharp and assessing as they swept over , then the room, then back to .
"Hello again Luna Fia," she said. "Please show
your arms."
I held them out. She took my wrists gently and examined the rash. Her expression didn’t change but I saw her jaw tighten.
"How do you feel? Any difficulty breathing? Chest tightness?"
"No. Just itchy."
"Nausea? Dizziness?"
"No."
She released my arms and turned to look at the room. Really look at it. The water stains on the walls. The black mold in the corner. The general state of decay.
"Who put her in here?" Her voice was quiet. Deadly quiet.
The ogas all looked at each other. Nobody answered.
Doctor Maren’s gaze hardened. "I asked a question."
"We did," the oga with the bruised face finally whispered. "We thought... we didn’t think..."
"You didn’t think." Doctor Maren’s words were clipped. "You put an oga in a room with active mold growth and damp bedding. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Ogas have weaker immune systems than alphas or betas. This could have really hurt her."
The room went silent. The kind of silence that felt heavy. Suffocating.
Doctor Maren opened her bag and pulled out a bottle of pills. "Take two of these now. They’re antihistamines. They’ll help with the itching and reduce the inflammation."
She handed
the bottle and a small tube of cream. "Apply this to the rash three tis a day. It should clear up in a few days if we get you out of this environnt imdiately."
"I can just move rooms," I said.
"You’ll move to proper quarters." Doctor Maren’s tone left no room for argunt. "The Luna quarters, as you should have been given from the start."
There it was again. Luna. Like it was a real title I’d earned instead of a cosmic joke played by my foolishness and Hazel’s cruel gas.
Doctor Maren turned back to the ogas. "Where is the head oga? Soone needs to answer for this."
Before anyone could respond, I felt it.
A pull. Not physical, but sothing deeper. Sothing that started in my chest and spread outward. The mate bond. I’d felt it many tis now. That strange awareness of Cian’s presence. But this was different. This was... intense.
And then he was there.
Cian filled the doorway like a storm about to break. His eyes swept the room, taking in everything. The stripped bed. The pile of moldy sheets. The ogas frozen in place. Doctor Maren standing with her dical bag. And , covered in red welts, wearing a nightgown in a room that looked like it should be condemned.
The temperature seed to drop.
"Explain." It was one word. Spoken so quietly it was almost worse than if he’d shouted.
Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.
Then I felt it through the bond. His rage. Not at . At them. At this situation. At seeing his mate standing in a room that was actively poisoning her. If that was even possible.
It hit
like a freight train. His anger was clean and sharp and absolutely terrifying. I’d expected his fury to be cold, controlled. But this was sothing else. This was protective instinct twisted into wrath.
"I asked for an explanation." His voice was still quiet. Still deadly.
The bruised oga stepped forward. She was shaking. "Alpha, we... we assigned her this room because..."
"Because what?"
"Because she’s not really Luna." The words tumbled out in a rush. "Because she tricked you into the bond. Because she doesn’t deserve—"
"Stop talking."
She stopped.
Cian stepped fully into the room. He didn’t look at . His eyes were fixed on the ogas with an intensity that made
want to step back even though none of that fury was directed at .
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