The following morning, Ewan roused from his slumber amidst a chaotic haze of disorientation and heavy lethargy. He lay there upon the stone bed, his mind still adrift in a fog, unable to immediately pinpoint the reality of his current predicament. It was not until the stinging, throbbing ache at the nape of his neck and a strange, distended sense of discomfort radiating from a rather unmentionable region of his lower body finally jolted his reason back into existence.
Ewan sat up with a sudden start, panic seizing his chest as the fragmented memories of the previous night came flooding back into his mind like an overwhelming tidal wave.
Relying on the innate biological memories embedded within this body, Ewan recognized that the consuming sensation he had experienced throughout the night was known as a heat cycle. And Asher Ryder's action, biting fiercely into the gland at the back of his neck, was a temporary mark. It was a desperate, emergency measure intended to pause the violent waves of the heat in a situation where proper suppressants were not available in time.
But the memories did not stop there. His mind drifted lower, to the more intimate details. At that critical moment, Asher Ryder had... the man had inserted his fingers inside. Furthermore, he had even assisted Ewan by stroking and caressing the eager length at the front.
Ah!
Ewan's face instantly flushed a brilliant, burning crimson, turning so red it looked as though the skin might actually weep blood from the sheer intensity of his embarrassment.
He frantically darted his gaze around the room, scanning the perimeter. Upon realizing there was no one else present in the chamber, he finally let out a long, shaky breath of relief. However, the air had barely left his lungs when the heavy sound of footsteps approaching and the creaking of the door shoved the breath right back down his throat, causing him to choke on his own relief.
Asher Ryder pushed the door open and stepped inside. In his hands, he carefully carried a bowl filled with something that was steaming ominously. The moment he saw Ewan sitting up on the bed, staring wide-eyed at him, Asher let out a dry, awkward cough before speaking.
"You... you're awake?"
Witnessing Ewan's face turning an even deeper, more alarmed shade of scarlet, Asher Ryder felt a wave of secondhand awkwardness wash over him. He placed the bowl of medicine onto the table, struggling to find the right words to explain the situation. After a moment of heavy silence, Asher sighed deeply.
"About that... about what happened last night, I apologize. I had already given you the medicine, but it failed to control your pheromones. There are quite a few Alphas in the vicinity, so I had no choice but to..."
Asher stammered through his explanation, bowing his head in apology to the boy. Although Ewan's face was still burning like a furnace, he hurriedly waved his hands in dismissal.
"No... it's fine. After all, you were only trying to help me. Technically, I-I should be the one thanking you."
Ewan was well aware that an Omega's uncontrolled heat was no laughing matter. According to the biological knowledge embedded in this body, he knew exactly what would happen if the sweet, potent scent of an Omega in heat were to leak out into the open air. If an Alpha were to catch a whiff of it, it would almost certainly trigger a violent riot as they fought for the right to mate.
Just as Asher had pointed out, there were numerous Alphas lurking in this area. If he hadn't acted swiftly to provide a temporary mark, the moment the pheromones concentrated enough to drift outside, Ewan would have been doomed. No matter how powerful Asher was, he wouldn't have been able to save Ewan from a horde of frenzied Alphas once the scent spread.
Rationalizing the necessity of the act was one thing, but the palpable awkwardness hanging between the two of them was an entirely different beast to tame. After all, they had only known each other for a day or two. In truth, a simple bite on the neck wasn't overly scandalous in this world. The problem was... well, the problem was that during the act, Asher Ryder had slipped his hand into that place.
Aaaaaah!
The more he thought about it, the more Ewan found himself unable to lift his head to look Asher in the eye.
Perhaps the man standing before him was equally flustered, at a loss for words. After a long pause, Asher cleared his throat a few times before breaking the silence: "Well then... perhaps you should drink your medicine first?"
Ewan cast his gaze toward the bowl of dark brown liquid, sloshing gently in the crude ceramic bowl that Asher held out to him. The smell of the medicine was pungent and acrid, assaulting his nostrils with such force that Ewan instinctively wrinkled his nose and recoiled, wanting to scoot back. However, logic dictated that he shouldn't behave so childishly, especially when his body was still in a state of biological alarm.
Thus, Ewan reached out with both hands to accept the bowl. As he did so, his fingertips accidentally brushed against the rough calluses on Asher's hand. A sudden jolt of electricity seemed to spark at the point of contact, causing Ewan to flinch and jerk his hand back slightly. A few drops of the dark liquid splashed over the rim and fell away.
"Careful, it's hot." Asher warned. The man's voice was low and deep, and it seemed as though he, too, was struggling to suppress his own flustered state.
Ewan nodded, murmuring a tiny sentence of thanks before lifting the bowl. He blew gently to cool it, then took a tentative sip. A wave of bitterness, intense, astringent, and utterly foul, immediately exploded across his palate, causing Ewan's entire face to scrunch up in distaste. In his previous life, Ewan hadn't experienced many culinary delights. The chicken soup yesterday had been his first real taste of flavor. But he had heard rumors that medicine was bitter. He just never imagined it could be this bitter. The acrid taste clung stubbornly to his throat, mixed with a grassy, earthy funk that made Ewan gag repeatedly.
"What... what kind of medicine is this?" Ewan asked, gritting his teeth to force the liquid down, fighting back the nausea that threatened to rise from his stomach. He looked up at Asher, his eyes glistening with unshed tears from the sheer awfulness of the taste.
Asher pulled a chair closer to the stone bed and sat down, though he was careful to maintain a respectful distance. The man looked at the bowl in Ewan's hands, his gaze darkening slightly: "It is Silver Frost Grass boiled with Nether Root. This is the best suppressant we can find in the village."
Seeing the blank, horrified look still plastered on Ewan's face, Asher patiently offered a further explanation, perhaps fearing the boy would refuse to finish the concoction due to the bitterness.
"I know, you're probably not used to this. In the past, when I escorted people to Silverton Town, I saw the Omegas there using a different type of medication. They used clear, refined liquids stored in tiny glass vials. A simple injection into the arm was all it took. They say it's a purified suppressant, free of impurities, with immediate effects."