The Mating Rules

Lauren’s POV

What is that noise? The jackhammer sound that’s pounding through my head. I turn my head slightly as nausea rolls over me, making me still.

My throat is so dry, I need a drink, but I can’t seem to make my voice work to call out to my mum.

I don’t remember ever feeling this sick before, I gingerly reach out for my wolf Laila to try and figure out what is wrong with me.

‘Hey, are you OK?’ I think groggily, searching through the jumble that is my mind to try and locate my wolf.

‘Hurts’ Laila responds with a whimper.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

Just hearing her voice makes me relax slightly, even if the pain laced in her voice worries me.

‘Do you know what happened?’ I croak back.

‘Fall, bang, black’ is the only reply I get, seems Laila’s mind is just as scrambled as my own right now.

I hear a squeak of a door, and try to open my eyes but my body refuses to obey me, all I can manage is a soft m**n. I feel something bright piercing my closed eyelids and instinctively scrunch up my face to try and stop it, whatever it is really hurts and I don’t like it.

‘Lauren?’ comes a soothing voice, ‘can you hear me?’ a hand grips my own, warm and soft, ‘squeeze my hand if you can hear me.’

I put everything into my fingers and manage to force them to close slightly.

‘Good, well done, that’s excellent’ the voice continues, ‘you had an accident, fell on the treadmill in the gym and hit your head pretty badly. Your friend brought you into the pack clinic, that’s where you are, he’s waiting outside, along with your parents. I’m going to get the doctor now, then I’ll bring your mum and dad through so they can come in and talk to you, don’t try to push yourself though Ok?’

I try to mumble that I understand but I’m not sure what comes out of my mouth is anything more than noise.

I’m so tired, everything is so heavy and my head hurts so bad, I hear another creak before the room falls back into silence except for that horrible beeping noise. I wish I could turn it off, why does it have to be on? My head hurts . . . . .

When I come around again, I can hear low murmuring around me, another hand is holding tightly to mine and there is something familiar about it. I try to open my eyes again, managing to force them apart a c***k as I try to focus on the voices around me, the room dark around me.

‘My poor baby’ a woman’s voice whimpers, as a thumb rubs over the back of my hand, ‘how many of my girls am I going to have to sit next to! First Bailee, then Jamie-Lee passed out and now Lauren?’ A small sob leaves the lips of the woman beside me as I try to make sense of what she’s saying. Why is she so upset, I wish I could make out her face better but everything is hazy.

I still need a drink, and I smack my dry lips together trying to form words, hoping to ask the people in here with me if they can get me some water or juice.

The woman must hear me because she scrambles to her feet, leaning over me worriedly as I try to make out who she is.

‘Lauren? Sweetie? Can you hear me?’ she asks worriedly, a hand smoothing back my hair in a familiar way.

‘Water’ I manage to reply, my throat scratching it’s so dry.

Another person appears on the other side of me, seconds before a straw presses against my lips and I suck on it desperately, moaning as the cool liquid fills my mouth.

‘Not too much Pumpkin, you don’t want to choke’ comes a man’s voice beside me as the straw is pulled away again for a second to allow me to breath before being placed back between my lips.

We do the same dance for a few minutes, the man allowing me a mouthful of water before taking it away again only to return it again until I finally turn my head slowly away, indicating that I’m done.

The straw disappears and my other hand is grasped in a strong calloused one, the fingers squeezing my own with a strength that makes me feel safe.

‘Dad?’ I manage to croak out, my thumb tracing over his skin, the rough texture calming me as my muddled brain tries to work out what is happening.

‘That’s right pumpkin, it’s dad’ the voice replies, ‘and mum is here too, you had an accident, but the doctor says you should be fine.’

‘You gave us a right scare young lady’ the woman’s voice adds, ‘you’ve been unconscious for three days, we were . . ‘ her words are cut off by a choking sound as warm lips press to my temple. ‘I was so worried’ she whispers, ‘you wouldn’t wake up, I thought . . I thought . . ‘

‘Lauren is awake now love, she’s OK’ my dad’s voice sooths, ‘she’s going to be just fine.’

My eyes are closed again, I don’t remember it happening, but my whole body feels like lead and I can’t muster the energy to get them to open again. My parents are mumbling something to each other, but I can’t get my mind to work out what they are saying.

I must fall asleep again because I’m woken up by someone lifting my arm and placing a band around it moments before a machine whirs and the band starts to tighten. It’s uncomfortable and I grimace as the material pinches my skin, trying to pull my arm away to make it stop.

‘It’s OK Lauren, I’m just checking your b***d pressure’ a voice murmurs, the same female voice that I heard the first time after I woke up.

‘Dad?’ I croak out weakly, my fingers flexing as I realise that he’s no longer holding my hand.

‘Your Mum and Dad just went to get a coffee sweetie’ the woman who I assume is a nurse, replies. ‘They’ll be back in just a few minutes, don’t worry, they haven’t left.’

I relax, accepting her words, mum and dad will come back and everything will be OK.

My eyes flutter open again, and I squint in discomfort as the light in the room hits my eyes. It’s so bright, what time is it?

‘Oh sweetie, you’re awake again’ my mother’s voice croons, seconds before she leans over me, and I can finally make out her face. She looks gaunt, her skin holding a greyish tinge and there are dark circles under her eyes which are filled with relief as she studies me.

‘Dad?’ I call out weakly just as my hand is grasped again and the equally exhausted face of my father comes into view.

‘Right here pumpkin’ he replies with a soft smile, ‘how are you feeling?’

I blink slowly, ‘my head hurts’ I mumble, ‘moving makes it worse.’

Dad nods, ‘we’’ you gave your noggin a good c***k girlie’ he jokes, ‘surprised you don’t have soup for a brain in there right now.’

I try to laugh but the pain that shoots through my head turns it to a g***n of pain.

‘Don’t make her laugh Greg! She’s been unconscious for days!’ My mother admonishes my dad, glaring over at him.

‘How long have I been here?’ I ask, as the word, days, filters through the spaghetti that is my mind.

My mum hesitates for a second before she squeezes my hand affectionately, ‘you’ve been in and out of consciousness for five days sweetie’ she replies quietly.

My mind turns over the words for a minute before I finally work out what she said, my eyes widening as I try to sit up, suddenly panicked. ‘Five days? I have to go, I have training, border patrol . . . I need . . . ‘

My parent’s hands land on my shoulders pushing me back down as the room swims and my eyes roll back leaving me fighting to stay conscious.

‘It’s OK Pumpkin’ my father soothes, ‘Caden already sorted out covering your shifts, you don’t need to worry about anything but getting better.’

I frown at his words, Caden?

As I try to figure out who my father is talking about, a soft knock on the door sounds before the door opens.

‘Tyler’ my mother gushes to the new arrival, ‘I told you to go home! You haven’t slept in days.’

A velvety voice replies, the rumble vibrating through me as I turn to try and see who has come in. ‘I couldn’t leave Mrs Sparks, not till I knew Lauren was OK.’

I can’t see around my father who is blocking my view toward the door, something deep inside me is clawing to see whoever it is but I don’t have the strength to pull my dad out of the way.

What feels like an eternity later, my dad steps back to reveal my visitor and my breath catches as the most handsome man I’ve ever seen steps up to my bed, the same haggard look on his face as I had seen on my parents.

He grabs my hand, his eyes searching my face as worry rolls off of him in waves.

‘Ren’ he breathes finally, his hand trembling against my own, ‘thank Goddess you are awake.’

My mind wants to reply, telling him he’s gorgeous, but instead, my mouth seems to have a mind of its own and speaks of its own accord.

‘Who are you?’ I mumble, and it’s like time grinds to a halt around us all as three sets of eyes stare at me in horror.