Ch. I Refuse to Be Your Luna 349 I Refuse to Be Your Luna 349

Chapter 349 Flourish Falls Ill 

Lady Flourish POV 

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By morning, I had already checked the overseas evacuation updates twice before getting out of bed. 

Damian caught me reaching for my phone and took it from my hand. “Breakfast first.” 

“I can check messages while eating.” 

“You can also eat without checking messages.” 

I reached for the phone, but he held it out of reach. His expression made it clear he wasn’t going to hand it over just because I asked, and I was too tired to start an argument before breakfast. 

“Give it back, Damian.” 

“After you eat.” 

I sat up and immediately regretted it. The room shifted, and I grabbed the edge of the mattress until everything stopped moving. A dull ache had settled behind my eyes, and my throat felt dry despite the water I had drunk during the night. 

Damian’s expression changed. He put my phone on the bedside table and touched my forehead. 

“You’re burning up.” 

“I’m fine. I probably slept badly.” 

“You’ve been sleeping badly for days.” 

I pushed his hand away and stood. My legs felt weak, but I managed to take two steps before a wave of nausea forced me to sit down again. 

Damian called for the estate physician before I could tell him not to make a fuss. 

I hated how quickly the morning had changed. There were reports waiting for my approval, an international contact we still needed to verify, and several packs expecting updates on the emergency network. I couldn’t afford to lose a day. 

The physician arrived and checked my temperature, pulse, and breathing. He asked how long I had been feeling unwell, and I admitted that I had experienced headaches and fatigue for several days. I had blamed both on the late nights and the pressure of managing the new 

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Chapter 349 Flourish Falls III 

project. 

“Have you shifted recently?” he asked. 

“No.” 

“When was the last time you tried?” 

“Three days ago, but I stopped because I was tired.” 

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He looked at Damian before turning back to me. “I want you to attempt a partial shift, only if you feel able. Stop immediately if you become dizzy or experience pain.” 

I didn’t like the suggestion, but I understood why he asked. My wolf usually responded without difficulty, even when I was exhausted. If my body was struggling to shift, I needed to know how serious the problem had become. 

I closed my eyes and reached for my wolf. I felt her presence, but the familiar response was weak. I tried again, drawing on the strength I normally used to begin a shift. 

Pain spread through my shoulders, and my fingers trembled. My nails lengthened slightly before the change stopped. 

I gasped and grabbed the mattress, unable to force the transformation any further. 

“Stop,” the physician ordered. 

I opened my eyes. My heart was racing, and sweat had gathered along my hairline. Damian was beside me before I could straighten up. 

“What happened?” he demanded. 

“Her body is under considerable strain,” the physician answered. “Fever, exhaustion, and dehydration may be contributing, but I want to run tests. She needs rest, fluids, and no shifting until we understand what’s happening.” 

“I have work,” I said. 

“You have an illness,” Damian replied. 

The physician gave him instructions and arranged for further tests at the estate. Once he left, Damian picked up my phone and called Rhys. 

I sat on the bed, listening as he explained that I would not be going to F-Tech that day. He instructed Rhys to handle the international calls, postpone meetings that required my approval, and send urgent decisions directly to him. 

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My anger rose with every instruction. 

“Damian, give me that phone.” 

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He held up one finger while Rhys asked a question. “No, she won’t be joining the call. I’ll review the urgent matters myself.” 

He ended the call and put my phone in his pocket. 

“You had no right to do that.” 

“I have every right to make sure you receive medical care when you’re too ill to stand.” 

“You don’t get to take over my work because I have a fever!” 

“Then tell me what I’m supposed to do while you can barely attempt a shift.” His voice rose, and he took a breath before continuing. “Should I sit here and watch you push yourself until you collapse?” 

I opened my mouth, but the room began to spin again. I pressed a hand to my forehead and waited for the nausea to pass. 

Damian’s anger disappeared as he helped me lie back. He brought the water closer and adjusted the pillows behind me. 

I wanted to push him away, but I didn’t have the strength for another argument. 

He called Rhys again and told him to send only genuinely urgent updates. 

Then he informed the household staff that no visitors were to disturb me without checking with him or the physician. 

“You’re making decisions about everything,” I muttered. 

“Because you won’t stop making decisions about everything yourself.” 

“That isn’t fair.” 

“No, it isn’t.” He sat beside me. “You have spent days worrying about packs you’ve never met, trying to build a system that should have existed years ago. I support what you’re doing, Flourish. But you’ve been ignoring your own body, and now you can’t shift properly.” 

I turned my face away. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t understand the pressure I felt, but I knew he did. He had been beside me through the discoveries about Amara, the bloodline network, and the growing threat around our families. He knew what was at stake. 

What I hadn’t considered was how much my condition could affect the work I was trying to 

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protect. 

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“If something happens to you because you refused to rest,” he continued, “what do you think that will do to me?” 

I looked back at him. His hand was wrapped around mine, and his thumb moved across my knuckles while he waited for me to answer. 

“I don’t want to be another person you have to worry about,” I whispered. 

“You’re my wife. Worrying about you isn’t a burden I’m trying to escape.” 

I had been so focused on keeping the network from failing that I hadn’t noticed how far I had pushed myself. 

Even after Damian brought me home the previous night, I had checked messages before sleeping and woken early to review the next steps. 

I had treated every hour of rest as time taken away from people who needed help. 

Damian hadn’t taken my schedule because he thought I was incapable of doing my job. 

He had taken it because I was ill and refusing to admit how bad things had become. 

“I was angry because you didn’t ask me,” I said. 

“I should have told you what I planned to do. But you weren’t going to agree to stop.” 

I couldn’t deny it. 

He returned my phone, though he kept it on the bedside table instead of putting it in my hands. “You can read the updates later. Right now, you need to rest, and the physician needs to find out why your wolf isn’t responding properly.” 

I nodded, too tired to argue further. When he helped me settle beneath the covers, I held on to his hand. 

The network still needed me, but I couldn’t protect anyone if I ignored what was happening to my own body. 

For the first time in days, I let Damian handle the calls without asking him to explain every decision. 

I closed my eyes, hoping the tests would give us an answer before my wolf’s condition became 

worse. 

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