One

 

Conrad Rosser doesn't feel well.

The doorbell rings, and she jolts, cringing back into her pillow as the noise startles her.

She releases a grunt, slowly hauling herself to her feet as she puts a hand to her head, trying to steady herself before she takes a step.

As soon as she lifts her foot from the ground, her stomach churns, and she claps a hand over her mouth, hurrying to the basin in the corner of her bedroom.

She vomits for what feels like forever, and she stares at the mess in disgust.

She hasn't eaten in over twenty-four hours, yet her stomach can still manage to find something to expel.

The doorbell rings again, and she releases a scream, snatching her fuzzy white blanket off her bed and wrapping it tightly around her shoulders.

She closes her eyes for a second, shoving her feet into her fuzzy slippers as she walks towards the door.

She opens the door reluctantly, and as soon as she steps outside her bedroom, the doorbell rings for the third time.

An automatic scowl lands on her face, and she storms down the stairs, now infuriated by the visitor's behaviour.

Anyone else would have given up.

She composes herself before opening the door, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror by the door.

Her mouth drops open in horror as she realises what she looks like, and she frantically tries to comb through her hair with her fingers. She didn't sleep well at all, and she definitely looks like something out of a horror movie.

The doorbell rings again, and Conrad curses under her breath, abandoning her mission to make herself look more presentable and deciding to deal with whoever is so desperate for her attention that they can't wait for two minutes.

She plasters a smile onto her face and unlocks the door, greeting the boy at it pleasantly.

"Uh, is this the Rosser family residence?" The guy asks hesitantly, looking slightly fearful.

She doesn't blame him; she looks genuinely horrific.

You could have at least stopped to put a bra on, Jane complains.

You could have at least stopped me getting sick, Conrad responds sarcastically, tightening her blanket around her.

"Yes, it is. Who are you looking for?" She questions, staring at the boy curiously.

She doesn't recognise him, even though she knows almost everyone her age from the pack.

"I was looking for Beta Rosser," the boy manages to stutter out.

"Oh, dad," she mumbles, furrowing her brows, "I think he's in meetings this morning."

"You're the future Beta?" He asks, and she nods, wiggling her toes in her slippers to try to release some of her nervous energy.

"You don't really look like a Beta," the boy comments, and she stares at him blankly.

"And what is a Beta supposed to look like?" She sighs, too tired to give him a smart-ass response like she usually would. She also has no idea who this guy is, and her blocked nose means that she can't smell his scent to figure out if he has a rank or not, so it's probably safest to wait for him to respond.

"I was just saying. Anyway, if you see your dad, tell him the sixty wolves from the Baxter pack have arrived for the East Coast convention," he shrugs, and Clover rubs her forehead, nodding at him.

"Will do, but I can almost guarantee you're going to see him first," she sighs, stepping backwards into her house.

"What's your name?" She asks curiously, and the boy grins at her, offering his hand, which she doesn't take.

"I don't want to give you this," she excuses herself, sniffling a little to get her point across.

"Amos. I'm the Beta of the Baxter pack. I'll let your father know I've met you," he chuckles, nodding to her before walking away.

She slowly nods to him, raising an eyebrow to herself as she closes the front door, bolting and locking it.

She isn't entirely sure if anyone is home or not, but she's assuming she's home alone because nobody has bothered her or tried to drag her out of bed yet.

Catching another glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror, she cringes, shaking her head.

"Jesus Christ," she whispers, peering at her skin in the looking glass.

For all that shit you buy for your face, you'd think it would be clearer, Jane sneers, and Conrad's jaw drops in outrage.

For all that time I spent bonding with you, you'd think you would be a little nicer to me, Conrad retorts, dragging herself back up the stairs.

She drops her blanket, and releases a frustrated grunt, snatching it up from the floor and continuing on her journey back to her bed.

She throws the blanket onto her duvet and brings the basin into the bathroom before she lays down because she doesn't want the scent of vomit in her room all day and night.

Her hair has given up on being in a ponytail, and she's accepted that fact as she shuffles back into her room, untying her mane and letting it flap around her face loosely.

She slides under her sheets and releases a content sigh, grabbing her favourite pillow and cuddling into it.

In no time, she falls asleep but is rudely awoken an hour later by her father.

"Con," he roars up the stairs, and she can hear the stomping of his work boots on the wooden stairs.

Her mother won't be happy with that, and she releases a little snort at the thought of this.

"Yes?" Conrad shouts back, rolling onto her side and facing the door lazily.

"Am I okay to come in?" He asks, knocking on the door roughly.

"Yes," she calls, staring at the door as she waits for his entrance.

He tramples inside a moment later, nearly falling over his own feet in an effort to stop himself hitting anything.

"Yes, dad?" She asks, making sure to keep any tone out of her voice.

He looks irritated, which isn't unusual for her father - he's overworked, and he's tired, but he always makes time for his kid. It just means that sometimes, instead of a pancake breakfast or a walk, she gets taken to the shooting range or to observe training to spend time with her father.

"The Luna wants to see you," her father sighs, his vast form a contrast to the rest of her furniture.

"Really? Why?" She groans, shaking her head and smashing her face into her pillow.

"She wants your help making some sort of cake or something like that," her dad says apologetically, clasping his hands as he looks down at his daughter.

"I'm still sick," she complains, offering him her forehead to check her temperature.

"Goddess, Con, you're scalding hot," he complains, withdrawing his hand after a second, "Maybe you should pop by the clinic first."

"Exactly, and Luna Anna is pregnant. I don't want to get her sick," Conrad reasons, laying back against her mountain of pillows.

"Conrad, you're twenty-three. Don't make excuses, if you don't want to do something, say you don't want to do something," her father frowns, and Conrad sits up.

"I don't want to bake a cake with Luna Anna," she states firmly, and her father shrugs.

"Too bad, I already said you would. Have a shower and get moving, she's going to be waiting for you in the Alpha house," he smirks, leaving her room.

He stomps down the stairs, and Conrad smirks to herself, mindlinking her mum.

Mum, dad is wearing his work boots in the house, she complains, and she can feel her mother's outrage.

She had only gotten new carpets installed a few weeks ago, and the muck that Silas brought in on his boots would destroy them.

"Silas," her mother screams from wherever she is in the house, and she can hear her father curse to himself and pause halfway down the stairs.

Conrad giggles to herself, pushing her blankets away from her body as she sits up slowly, trying not to move too much.

The last thing she needs is to be dizzier than she already is.

Eventually, she stands up, finding her footing and wobbling into the bathroom.

She stares at her reflection again, shaking her head in irritation, flicking the water on in the shower.

She strips out of her pyjamas while she waits, tying her hair back up and covering it with a shower cap.

She only washed it yesterday, and she doesn't think she has time to rewash it.

Brushing her teeth, she leans against the tiles, trying to stop herself from yawning as she gazes around her little bathroom, wondering if she should redecorate the entire thing or just get some new paintings for the walls to brighten it up a little.

She spits the toothpaste out and steps into the shower, letting the scalding hot water heat her up a little bit. Her temperature can't seem to make up its mind - she keeps going from freezing cold to boiling hot, and she isn't a fan of it.

She spends way longer than she planned to in the shower, but it's totally worth it. Jane is happy, and quiet, and she feels a little better, able to breathe a tiny bit better.

Her nose is still completely stuffed up, and it's irritating her to no end, but she's forcing herself to go about her normal activities in an attempt to get her shit together.

Once she dries off and moisturises, she does her face routine, making sure she puts extra effort into her skincare in an attempt to look a little more alive.

Satisfied with her work, she slips on a pair of ripped jeans and a sleeveless black shirt with shoulder pads and a belt. The shirt used to be her moms, and she thinks it always helps to make her look a little more presentable.

Forcing her curls into a ponytail, she nods with contentment as she glances in the mirror while she forces her feet into her flat boots.

She doesn't look great, but she looks a heck of a lot better than she did twenty minutes ago, and that's all she can manage to do today.

She adds some earrings into all of her piercings, all twelve of them, and she grins to herself, sliding on one of her bracelets before she grabs her bag and her phone.

Her bag is heavier than usual, and she realises she left one of her research books in it, so she flings that on her bed from her door and grabs a coat from her coat rack.

She makes a mental note to open her windows when she gets home, because she has some work to do for her Alpha, so she can let her room air out while she works away.

She carefully walks down the stairs, gripping the rail tightly.

"I'm leaving now, dad," she hollers, and the kitchen door pops open, her dad's head poking out from the kitchen.

He has some red lipstick smeared in the corner of her mouth, and she raises an eyebrow but decides not to comment on it.

"I told the doctor you'd be stopping by, so make sure to actually go, please," he warns her, and Conrad frowns, nodding at him.

"Say goodbye to mom for me. I'm assuming she's.. occupied," she mutters, a shiver running through her body in disgust.

Her parents are adorable, and they always have been. They've been together since they were fifteen, and it's incredible to see that they still love each other as they used to over thirty years later.

It's cute to everyone else, but Conrad can't even count the number of times she's almost walked in on her parents defiling different rooms in the house, including her office.

Cracking her neck, she grabs her keys from the rack and lets herself out, slipping her coat on as the first gentle breeze hits her exposed arms.

She begins going left, and then, cursing to herself, quickly turns around when she remembers she has to visit her doctor.

She's alright, and she'll almost definitely be okay tomorrow, but her dad is a worrier, and never likes to see her in pain or sick.

The walk to the clinic is quick, maybe three minutes to the white colonial-style building. She rings the bell as soon as she walks in the door, waiting for the secretary to direct her to whichever doctor her dad decided she would see today.

"Hey, Conrad," the secretary smiles, and Conrad smiles back at her, waiting as the secretary reads down the list.

"You're in with Miller today. Go right ahead; he doesn't have any patients at the moment," the girl grins, pointing to the left.

"Thanks, Marcy," Conrad nods, giving the girl another smile and a wave as she heads up the steps on the left-hand side of the lobby.

This doctor's practice was relatively small because people generally went to the pack hospital for any significant issues. The practice usually only did physicals or saw children for any minor illnesses.

She finally makes it to the top of the stairs, and she knocks on the door hesitantly, waiting to hear her name be called in.

She perches on the chair nearest the door, looking over the bannisters down at the lobby.

As soon as she gets comfortable, the doctor pops his head out, grinning at her as soon as he spots her.

"Hello, Conrad, how are you?" He asks, holding the door open for her.

Her bones feel heavy, and she frowns as she hauls herself up yet again.

"I have a cold, or the flu, and my dad is freaking out, as usual," she sighs, and the doctor chuckles, closing the door behind him and taking his seat.

"The Beta just likes to know his family is healthy; you can't blame him for that. What seems to be the issue?" The doctor asks, pulling a thermometer out of his drawer.

"I have a temperature - or I did, last night. And a migraine, and I've been throwing up," she explains, rubbing her temples.

"Any chance you could be pregnant?" He asks, and she raises an eyebrow.

"My self-imposed celibacy says no," she snorts, and he grins, checking her throat with his little light and stick.

"Any other issues?" He asks, taking her blood pressure while she takes a minute to think.

"No, not that I can think of," she shrugs, glaring at the blood pressure cuff.

She hates the squeezing feeling, but Miller is always thorough - he doesn't like to leave any box unchecked, and she remembers that from when he tutored her in math. He managed to pull her grade from a C to an A+ in the space of a few weeks.

"Okay, I'll give you something for the migraine, but I think you just need to let the fever run its course. All of the kids have had this, the Alpha's three little ones were sick with it last week, and since you supervised their training a few days ago, I'm not surprised you caught it," he shrugs, and Conrad smiles ruefully.

"Yeah, they were all sniffling and sneezing, but I was just hoping I wouldn't catch it. I'm not that lucky, though," she laughs, standing up from her seat slowly.

He quickly helps her up, opening the door for her.

"I'll have the medication dropped to your house by this evening," he promises, nodding to her as she heads towards the stairs.

"Thank you, Doctor," she grins, walking down the steps slowly.

She has to visit the Luna next because nobody else can entertain her today - the Alpha, her father, and the Gamma, as well as all of the higher-ups, are all busy with the Alpha Convention today.

Flicking her ponytail away from her face, she nods to Marcy on the front desk and heads into the sunshine, shivering as another cold breeze hits her square in the face.

From the Clinic, the Alpha house is probably five minutes, since it's only about two minutes from Conrad's own home.

She sets off happily enough, enjoying the walk.

The past few days, bar supervising training for the pups, have just been filled with paperwork, and she isn't a huge fan of always being hunched over a desk.

The Alpha family of her pack live separately from the packhouse, which is a little unusual, but Conrad suspects the Luna swayed her mate into agreeing to do that. The Luna is pretty reserved, and she doesn't interact much with the pack, which suits Conrad's mum perfectly, because she loves meeting and greeting with the pack members.

Usually, Lunas know everyone and everything, but Luna Anna seems to hide behind her husband a lot. She's pregnant with their fourth child now, in the space of five years, so Conrad supposes the woman hasn't got much time to see the pack.

Still, Alphas usually live in packhouses - everyone visiting always comments that they don't, and Conrad always makes the excuse of the Luna not wanting the children to disrupt anyone.

She finds herself at the front door in no time, and she knocks sharply, stepping back from the door while she waits for someone to answer.

The Alpha himself appears, opening the door with a smile.

"Hello, Conrad. What are you here for?" He asks, a hint of confusion in his voice.

"Your Luna is looking for me, apparently," Conrad shrugs, giving him a polite bow first.

"Oh, she's at the Packhouse. I'm about to head over there myself, I can walk you over," he nods, stepping back into the house and grabbing his coat.

He steps outside and shivers, scowling at the sky.

"It's winter now, isn't it?" He sighs, shaking his head as she nods.

He never speaks to us this much. What are we going to do for an entire minute?, Jane groans and Conrad sighs inwardly.

"Yeah, it is. It felt icy this morning; I wish it were still summer," she laughs awkwardly, waiting for him to button up his coat.

"So do I. Every second word out of Miles' mouth is 'Santa'. He has a list the length of my arm of presents he wants," the Alpha grumbles, shaking his head as he begins to walk.

"Oh, that isn't any fun. Besides, Halloween comes first," she chuckles, trying and failing to hide her mirth at her irritated Alpha.

"Oh, don't get me started on that. They can't wait to get so much candy. I think their goal is to bankrupt me with dental fees, I swear to the Goddess," he groans, running a hand through his hair as he speeds up his pace.

"They're good kids, you're doing a great job," she reasons, and he sighs.

"I know I'm an older dad, and they're always talking about how fun their friend's dads are. Anna and I didn't meet until I was thirty-eight, so it was bound to happen, I suppose. It doesn't feel like I'm doing that great of a job," he mutters, shaking his head.

Why is he getting so deep? Do we respond?, Jane whimpers, and Conrad opts to block her out.

"The other day, Miles' stopped a little boy kicking a little girl during practice, and he practically read the boy the riot act. You're doing a good job, trust me," she shrugs, opening the door to the packhouse for her Alpha.

"She's in the kitchen, and I think the kids might be in there, too," he sighs, and she nods.

"Good luck with the conference," she calls over her shoulder, walking towards the kitchen.

"Thank you, Conrad, good luck with the cake," he laughs.

Conrad reaches the kitchen quickly and gently pushes open the door, her eyes widening as she takes in the scene in front of her.

"Wow," she utters, gazing at the flour splattered children and the crying Luna in front of her.

"We had a bit of an accident," her Luna whispers, and Conrad nods slowly.

"Yes, I can see that," she mumbles, grabbing the sweeping brush.

She begins sweeping in silence while the Luna wipes down the counters, her cheeks tinged red as she works away.

The children are on their chairs with iPads in front of them, watching a movie together to keep them busy.

"Did your father tell you about the conference?" The Luna asks, and Conrad nods.

"I can't believe so many Alphas are here," she shrugs, beginning to measure out the new ingredients for the cake.

"James did a good job when he organised this," the Luna beams, pulling a new mixing bowl out of the cupboard and some eggs out of the refrigerator.

In no time, the mixture is ready to go into the oven, and as soon as Conrad bends down to put it into the oven, a growl sounds around the kitchen.

"Mine," a voice snarls.

Conrad slowly turns around, her eyes taking in her Luna's terrified expression.

Before she says anything, she puts herself between the Luna and this man.

Her Luna releases an ear-splitting shriek, and they can hear footsteps coming from all directions.

Jane is baffled, but she's ready to shift.

They protect their Luna at all costs.