Allen
I woke up the next morning with Ezra still in my arms. His body felt hotter than usual. I touched his forehead and it was burning. I knew right away it was a reaction to my pheromones.
The suppressants weren't working as well as I hoped. I sat up carefully, trying not to wake him too fast, but his eyes opened anyway.
"Allen?" he said, voice sleepy and weak.
"You have a fever," I told him. "It's from my pheromones. Stay still. I'll take care of it."
He tried to sit up. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."
"I am worrying about it," I said, pushing him back down gently. "You're not getting up until this fever goes down."
I got out of bed and went to the kitchen and checked the table where the herbs and spices were. I mixed a fresh potion, the one that usually helped with fever and pheromone reactions. It had a really strong smell, but I knew it would work. I brought it back to the bed and sat beside him.
"Drink this," I said, holding the cup to his lips.
