Episode 9

"Evelyn Amaris"

Excruciating pain inundated my body as I slowly opened my eyes, burdened with heaviness... The room was unfamiliar, my vision blurred, but the soft cries of my child reached me... He's here, yet not with me! Surveying my surroundings, I noticed a bedroom with brown furniture, lying in a surprisingly comfortable bed, yet unsure of my location.

Rising amidst severe pain drew a groan from me, so I paused, sitting back against the headboard. Then, I felt a hand on my shoulder... I recoiled slightly upon noticing a masculine figure through my still-dimmed sight.

"Easy now, you're safe, I won't harm you," he reassured, holding me gently until my vision cleared, and after a coughing spell, I could finally see the young man beside the bed.

His eyes reminded me of Varun's, lighter in shade, his hair longer on top and dyed a light brown, as if highlighted... His beard, patchy and young, added an unconventional charm...

"Where is my son?" I inquired, remembering that he was the same wolf that had assisted me at that time—or day; I'm uncertain how long I've been here.

"He's right here!" I watched as he walked to a wooden crib against the wall, lifting my baby Miguel and a small rattle, and then approached once again. "He's been looked after, fed with a bottle since you've been unconscious!"

"Thank you!" Gratitude filled my words as he flashed a gentle smile. Clutching my baby, I continued, "How long did I sleep, and who are you, exactly?"

"I'll answer all of your questions, but first, you must answer mine: is your child Varun Aibek's son?" He asked, never taking his eyes off my little one, settling by our side.

I nodded, embarrassment washing over me for the unplanned birth. His smile was gentle as he stroked Miguel's face, just waking and turning his head, soothed by the rattle's sound.

"My name's Marcos Aibek, Varun's younger brother, and this little guy's uncle," he said, moving his hand from my son back to the bed, his gaze meeting mine, reflecting the hue of his lineage.

"Relax, all is well!" He reassured me upon seeing my shock. "You slept just one night and still need rest."

"And the..." My words were cut short by another bout of coughing.

"My brother! He's not in the village right now..." Marcos continued with a smile. "A call from a woman claiming to have his child left him rather disturbed. So he's away, and I'll be standing in for him briefly."

"It was me, and he didn't believe a word!" Tears welled up as I confessed, "I'm so sorry. It wasn't my intent..."

"Stay calm, all is fine! He'll return, and you can discuss things further," he reassured me.

Before further conversation, I was seized by another round of coughs, covering my mouth and wincing at the raw pain in my throat. Marcos took Miguel from me, standing by my bed.

"Until Varum returns, I'll help by bringing a doctor to examine you, if that's alright?" he asked, holding my crying child.

My nod was met with a smile from him.

"And for this little guy, a full bottle of milk."

He walked to the door, baby in arms, and I watched him leave, filled with appreciation for his care for both me and my son, head resting back against the headboard as I breathed in relief. But then I wondered, does Marcos know who my father is?

With an unexpected sense of calm, I drifted off only to be awakened by Marcos's touch on my shoulder.

"Sorry to wake you; your baby's sleeping... and since you were coughing so much in your sleep, I brought the doctor to see you," he said, hand resting on the shoulder of the stern man beside him.

I nodded, my cough returning stronger than before. The doctor took a seat next to me, and Marcos stepped back to observe. The doctor asked me to open wide, depressed my tongue with a stick, and examined my throat with a small light. Eyes closed, I shuddered as he switched off the light, discarding the stick.

"Hmm," he hummed, placing a hand on my forehead before retrieving a thermometer from his bag and slipping it under my arm. My trembling lips did not escape his notice.

"You're very weak and have the beginnings of a severe cold; it's dangerous," he said, standing and addressing Marcos, "She needs lots of rest, good nutrition, and the medication I'll prescribe."

Marcos, serious with crossed arms, nodded in agreement. The doctor checked the thermometer.

"High fever! A cold bath will help, along with a forehead compress until the fever medication starts to work... Okay?" he asked.

Marcos simply agreed, still arms crossed. After writing a prescription, the doctor left, and Marcos saw him out. As Marcos returned, I tried to stand, feeling the weakness in my legs as I ended up sitting back down involuntarily.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he asked, approaching.

"I can't burden you further; you have your life and pack to concern yourself with... Don't worry about me," I managed to say, facing him, and before Marcos could reply, I added, "I deeply appreciate what you've done for us, but I must leave."

"And where would you go?" he challenged, stationing himself before me as I sat on the bed, feet on the ground. "When I found you, you were walking aimlessly. I cannot and will not let you wander sick with a child in your arms."

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