The thermometer beeped, an insistent, judgmental sound that echoed the grim set of Marcus’s jaw. "102.5," he announced, his voice a low rumble that brooked no argument.

Elara, curled miserably under a silk duvet, squeezed her eyes shut. "No. No, no, no," she whimpered, the words muffled by the pillow. She felt like she was cooking from the inside out, her skin flushed and clammy, but the idea of what always followed a fever this high was infinitely worse.

Seraphina, elegant even in sweatpants, knelt beside the bed, a small, sterile pack in her hand. "Don’t be a brat. You know the drill. We need an accurate reading, and then we need to get that fever down quickly." Her tone was firm, but her fingers were gentle as she pushed a stray strand of hair from Elara’s forehead.

"I’m sick! You can’t make me!" Elara tried to protest, but her voice cracked, weak and pitiful. She knew it was a losing battle even before she saw the small jar of Vicks VapoRub appear next to the sterile thermometer.

Marcus moved to the side of the bed, his presence a solid, unyielding wall. "Yes, we can, baby. You’re too hot. We’ll make this as quick and comfortable as possible." He pulled back the duvet, exposing her cotton nightshirt, then efficiently lifted her hips, turning her onto her side.

A fresh wave of dread washed over Elara. "No, please! I can try to relax, I promise! No Vicks!"

Seraphina sighed. "You never relax, love. And we need to get this done. Clenching only makes it worse for everyone, especially you." She scooped a dollop of the strong-smelling salve onto her gloved finger. The menthol scent immediately began to prickle Elara’s nose, making her eyes water.

"It’s just to help you relax the muscles, Elara," Marcus soothed, his hand firm on her hip, preventing any squirming. "A little cold at first, then it warms up. Just breathe."

The application was swift, cold and shockingly intense against her sensitive skin, quickly followed by a powerful, invigorating tingle that spread through her, making her gasp. It was impossible to clench against that sensation. Before she could process it, the cool, small tip of the rectal thermometer was eased in. Elara let out a muffled groan, clamping her eyes shut. The seconds stretched, each one feeling like an eternity, until the familiar beep signaled its completion.

"Still high," Seraphina confirmed, removing it. "And now for the main event."

Elara’s breath hitched. "No! Please! I hate suppositories!"

"They’re the fastest way to get medication into your system when you’re this feverish," Marcus explained, already preparing a fresh suppository from its foil wrapper. "It's for your own good, Elara."

The sight of the small, waxy pellet sent a jolt of desperate energy through Elara. She didn’t care that she was ill, that her body ached, or that her head throbbed. All she knew was she had to escape this indignity. With a sudden, surprising surge of strength, she twisted, kicking wildly, and tried to scramble off the bed.

But Marcus was too quick. His powerful arm hooked around her waist, effortlessly pulling her back before her feet even touched the floor. She struggled, a frantic, flailing mess, but he held her tight against his chest.

"Oh no, you don't," he murmured, his voice a low, warning growl. He spun her slightly, lifting her higher, and then, with one smooth motion, he shifted his grip. One of his strong hands pinned her shoulders, holding her upper body securely, while his other arm swept down, hooking behind her knee. He pulled her leg back, bending it at a sharp angle, effectively exposing her completely and rendering her unable to kick or squirm away.

Elara gasped, trapped and vulnerable, her face hot with shame and fury. Tears pricked at her eyes, not from pain, but from sheer mortification. "Let me go! Marcus, please! No!"

Seraphina, ever efficient, had already picked up the Vicks jar again. "Just a bit more, Elara. It’ll make it easier, you know it will." Her cool fingers reapplied the mentholated balm, a fresh burst of icy-hot sensation spreading through rubbing it into her rectum, making her squirm and cry against Marcus’s hold even more futilely.

"Hold still, love," Marcus commanded, his voice unwavering, his grip iron-hard. "Just a moment longer."

Elara squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering as she felt the cool, yielding press of the suppository against her, then the slow, inexorable slide as Seraphina expertly pushed it into place. It was over in seconds, but the humiliation lingered, a burning heat that had nothing to do with her fever.

"There," Seraphina said, her voice softer now, a hint of concern in it. "All done. Now you just need to lie still for a few minutes so it can dissolve."

Marcus eased his grip, gently lowering Elara back onto the bed, but he kept one hand resting firmly on her hip, ensuring she wouldn't try to move again. The cool, minty tingle of the Vicks radiated through her, a constant, undeniable reminder of who was truly in charge, and that even her fever couldn't save her from their particular brand of care.