His Incurable Omega novel Chapter 1

The trouble is,

You think you

Have time.

-Buddha

Mother was sick.

Father had her hand gripped in his. His face looked the same as mothers.

Pale. Sweaty. And Grim.

Mother was lying on the bed, her breaths every now and then hitching and stopping, then restarting.

Her eyes were rolled back into her head, leaving only white in its place. At first, it scared me, but after a while, I started to get used to the new way that mother slept.

Doctor Walt was checking her temperature, feeling her pulse, giving her weird white pills.

This wasn't abnormal. This was my daily routine.

It started three months ago.

Mother and I were weeding in the garden. I enjoyed pulling them up but was often scolded by mother for pulling up the wrong plant.

She didn't mind though. I knew she didn't. She would laugh her laugh that made everyone who heard it smile.

Her laugh though suddenly broke off with uneven coughing.

"Mother?" I asked, climbing onto her back while she hacked whatever was stuck from her throat. It was not common for werewolves to get a ball of fur stuck in their throat however, father had told me a story before going to bed of it happening.

"Mooooooommmm-iiieeeeeeeee?" I drawled out, walking to the front of her to see if she had really coughed up a ball of fur.

I didn't see fur in her hand though. I saw blood.

"Mom?" I whimpered, clinging on to her to somehow get the coughing to stop.

It didn't though. And in between her coughs and gags, she managed to gasp out an intelligible sentence that I understood.

"Go..." Cough...Cough..."Get"...hack...more blood fell out of her mouth..."Dad."

Without thinking I left her there, crouched on the ground, clinging to her mouth- running screaming "DADDY! DADDY!"

He ran outside, his eyes blazing gold, alert to danger. Then he saw her on the ground and ran to her.

He picked her up and ran out of the garden with her in his arms.

I stood there staring. They were gone so fast.

In my numbness, I sat down and stayed there until the sun slowly came down and the moon rose. I felt hands on me, lifting me and tucking me to bed however the scent wasn't mother or fathers.

Before my eyes closed I had one last thought run through my head.

Mother is sick.

At first glance it may appear too hard.

Look again.

Always look again.

"Father?" I said, poking my head around the door.

No reply of acknowledgment was heard.

I slowly opened the door more, wincing at the creak that it gave.

He was gone. I don't know if it started the day she died and he did well hiding it, or if the madness had slowly sunk in.

Werewolves could find other mates if one died. However, there were some mates that were for life. These were rare. But my mother and Father were life mates.

"SSSSsssshhhhh" I said again, stroking his hair.

"It's going to be okay."

"I don't understand Dr. Walt, werewolf's can't get sick" my father's frustrated voice rang out from his study.

I hid behind the door, putting my ear up to the crack to listen in.

"There are exceptions," Dr. Walt's deep voice answered. "Your mate has a genetic defect. Something went wrong and now her body is weak and shutting down."

A frustrated sigh could be heard. I couldn't tell from who.

"Can she...Can she get through?" My father's voice spoke out in the silence, breaking halfway.

I jerked my head back. I had never heard my father's voice waver before. It had always been strong and assertive.

There was a long break of silence. I put my eye up to the hole, wondering if they had fallen asleep.

However, Dr. Walt whispered only one word.

"No."

Tears fell freely from my face as Dad held my hand and walked me up to mother's bed.

I didn't want to look at her, but pushed away the thought and instead crawled into her arms.

"Hey little girl," she said in a whisper. Her eyes followed me as I brushed hair away from her face.