Destined Bear (Windridge Den #3)

13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Finn

I remembered lying back down to go to sleep after Patrick had texted me. He was worried, and try as I did, I hadn’t managed to take that feeling from him. And truth be told, I was worried too. I wanted this to me being pregnant more than anything. But pregnancy pukes were not like this, at least I didn’t think they were.

Things got a little fuzzy really quickly. I was sure I’d gotten sick again. I knew I had drunk some water and immediately tossed it back up. But what happened right before that? I wasn’t so sure. Time was acting peculiarly, my head not able to focus on anything at all.

Thankfully, my mate had been kind enough to leave me a bucket because getting out of bed wasn’t happening. I was sort of surprised I’d managed to even reach the bucket in time. I hated the idea of him having to clean up after me. It wasn’t the way I wanted things to go.

I forced myself up and out of bed, determined to make sure my mate didn’t need to take care of me in that way. He teased about us vowing in sickness and in health, but this was grossness, and I put that in a different compartment altogether.

After that, there was no memory, nothing except Patrick lifting me up, murmuring something into my ear, and a whole lot of talking. I wasn’t even sure who was speaking. It sounded more like the old Charlie Brown cartoons when they spoke to their teacher than real voices. I wanted to ask them to clarify, to open my eyes and see what was happening, to be able to think clearly. But try as I did, I wasn’t able to.

It felt like eons had passed. Thankfully, my stomach wasn’t tossing and turning every minute. But that didn’t make me better… far from it.

When I finally began coming back, someone held my hand, and I was definitely in a bed. There was a beeping noise that would not quit, not quite a smoke detector. Maybe the freezer door was left open? Did our freezer even have an alarm?

“Is that my alarm?” I said, my voice coming out rough, but it came out. For the first time since everything fell apart, I was able to control my body—sort of.

“Finn? Are you awake? Finn! Patrick, wake up. Finn’s awake!”

Griff, my brother… when did he arrive? And why was he somewhere near me while I was in a bed? I’d have thought the entire thing was a dream, that I never moved to a new den, never met my mate, but Griff mentioned Patrick. He was here in my den.

“What’s going on?” I tried to push myself up. Tried and failed.

“Easy.” Patrick. Patrick was here and helping me. It felt like my limbs were weighted down by wet blankets layered with sand. I was so weak, and it was hard to move. Even with Patrick’s help, I wasn’t sure I’d end up in an upright position.

“Finn, you’ve been asleep for a couple of days. It might take a while to come back to yourself.” Griff’s words sent a shiver down my spine. Days? How was I asleep for days? He was somewhere off to my side. I couldn’t open my eyes fully enough to focus.

“What?” I blinked, hoping it would help my eyes open up fully. “Days? How is that even possible?”

“You were very, very sick.” Griff sounded closer now. Not closer enough for me to see from this angle, my head too heavy to turn it.

I blinked wearily, and my mate’s face came into focus—almost into focus, anyway. His skin had a gray pallor to it, and the dark circles under his eyes aged him at least two decades. If he looked this bad, what did I look like?

“Were you sick too?” I tried to reach up and touch his face. My arm was lead.

Patrick shook his head, and Griff snorted. “No. Stubborn alpha just wouldn’t leave your side.”

That sounded on brand for him.

“I’m so sorry I left you,” Patrick said, lifting my hand to his mouth and kissing it. “I knew better, and still…”

“Left me? You didn’t leave me.” What was he talking about? The only one of us who even tried to leave was me, and I didn’t get further than the front of his house.

“I went to work after you got sick that morning.”

It was coming back to me. I’d be so sure it was nothing. Only it had been something based on the current situation I was in.

“When I came home, you were passed out on the floor. I couldn’t wake you. Rissa couldn’t wake you.”

I closed my eyes. I’d known it was bad. I wouldn’t be like this if it hadn’t been, but having a healer not be able to wake me? That was an entirely new level of awful.

“Your brother came. We hooked you up to an IV. It’s been… it’s been rough. How are you feeling now?” He was leaving out so much information, but even if he gave it all, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to process much more of it.

“Weak,” I said. “What am I sick from?”

Patrick and Griff exchanged a glance. I sucked in a breath. “Baby. Is it…? Is there a baby?” The morning I’d gotten sick I knew it could be morning sickness. I figured I’d take a test when I was feeling better and then I’d know.

“Everything’s fine,” Patrick said, squeezing my hand again. “You are, in fact, pregnant. Rissa is monitoring you and the baby very closely.”

“I came to surprise you, to celebrate your mating. I didn’t expect to find you in this state,” Griff said.

Patrick had settled onto the bed and pulled me into his arms, careful not to jostle me. I was rapidly declining in energy, but I wanted to hear everything that had happened.

Griff continued, “When I saw how sick you were, it reminded me a lot of how things were with Mom. You don’t remember, being the youngest, but she was very sick with each pregnancy—very, very sick—and it made her pregnancies high risk.”

I’d known it wasn’t easy for her, but the kind of not easy I had envisioned was being too tired to make a sandwich, not needing IVs and a freaking vigil. My poor mom.

“Rissa would like you to be on bed rest for a little while, at least until the first trimester passes,” Patrick said.

“Okay,” I said, trying not to work myself up. It wasn’t as if I could get out of bed if I wanted to. I wasn’t even sure I could lift a glass to my lips for a drink of water yet. “But for now, everything’s fine—the baby’s okay?”

“Yes. The baby is doing great.” Patrick kissed the top of my head. “I’m so sorry, mate.”

I felt more than heard the sorrow in his voice. They weren’t just platitudes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Patrick. It’s not your fault.” How could he even think that it was. If this was genetic, which it sounded like it was, there was nothing he could’ve done different except maybe get Rissa earlier. Although, to be fair, that would’ve pissed me off at the time.

“I should have done something—”

“Enough,” Griff interrupted. “You’ve been beating yourself up for too long. He’s awake now. We’ll have Rissa come over and do an exam on you now that you’re awake, Finn.”

“Okay.” I sighed. “I’m just going to close my eyes.”

“Go ahead, love. Sleep,” Patrick said, and I did.