<h4>Chapter 108: Fever...</h4>


    <strong>Charis</strong>


    ter pulled the thermometer from my mouth, squinting at it with a frown on his face that made me 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 hase 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 ter had not rushed immediately to hold me. What started as lightheadedness transformed into a full-blown fever. In thest few hours, ter had been trying to regte my temperature.


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


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


    He nced at the thermometer 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 some fever broth?"


    "Fever broth?" My eyes widened.


    "Yeah," ter 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 wasing anyway. They’ll be busy."


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


    Because it was an arranged marriage, I’d foolishly assumed that the girl would be in or, at worst, a little awkward. But when Alpha Marlowe brought Lydia to meet 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 thates from a lifetime of proper breeding and education.


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


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


    "No, ter, 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 me the first time?"


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


    A momentter, ter returned, carrying the full-body suit Rhett had given me.


    "Arm up," he ordered.


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


    ter took one look at me, gently deposited me on the couch, and tried to cover me up with a nket.


    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 goter," 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 some 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 someone to check on me."


    "Then we’ll tell him you’re sick!"


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


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


    "I’ll just show up to avoid problems with Marcus and leave immediately," I said with a convincing tone. "He must have spent a fortune trying to organise the birthday party. I cannot just bail out on himst 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, ter. 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’lle back. Please..."


    We red at each other in silence for a moment. ter 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 ce packed with students.


    The venue had been transformed 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 yed in the background, creating a festive atmosphere.


    Marcus stood near the entrance of the poolside, chatting with someone 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," ter said woodenly. "We just came from the school clinic, and he was told to rest. But he stubbornly insisted oning out here. Can he go now?"


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


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


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


    ter turned to me with an exasperated stare. "Seriously? Are you forgetting our agreement?"


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