POV Odette
Dawn barely touched the sky when Nathaniel knocked on my door. I'd asked him to drive me to the physician, and he'd agreed without demanding explanations.
"Ready?" His eyes searched my face for clues I wouldn't give.
"Let's go."
The drive stretched in deliberate silence. Twice he started to speak, jaw working around unformed questions, but each time he stopped himself. His hands gripped the wheel with careful control.
"Thank you," I said finally. "For not asking."
"You'll tell me when you're ready." His voice stayed neutral, but tension radiated from every line of his body. "Or you won't. Either way, I'm here."
Dr. Brennan's clinic stood empty at this early hour, the corridors hushed and private.
In the examination room, the ultrasound gel shocked cold against my skin. The wand traced methodical arcs while the screen bloomed with shifting patterns of gray and black.
"There." Dr. Brennan pointed to the monitor. "Everything appears normal. No bleeding, no tears, no signs of distress."
"Then why the pain?"
"Stress can affect even a wolf's body in unexpected ways." He adjusted the wand, measuring something on the screen. "Your body is adjusting to significant changes. The cramping should ease with rest."
My throat tightened. "How far along?"
"Based on these measurements, I'd estimate two to three weeks."
Two to three weeks. The timeline clicked into place with crystalline clarity. Not Devon—we hadn't been intimate in over two months. This child belonged to one night in a hotel room, to a stranger who turned out to be my betrothed.
"Princess?" Dr. Brennan's voice pulled me back. "Please, avoid physical strain, minimize stress, and take the prenatal vitamins I prescribed."
"Of course." The words came automatically while my mind raced through implications.
He scribbled a final note and pushed the door open to the cooler light of the corridor, and I schooled my face before stepping out.
Nathaniel stood when we emerged, immediately moving to my side. He didn't touch me, but his presence radiated protective concern.
In the car, I stared at passing trees while my secret burned in my chest.
"Odette." His voice finally broke. "Is everything alright?"
"I'll explain when I'm ready."
"That's not what I asked." He pulled into the mansion's private drive, then turned to face me fully. "I don't need details. I just need to know—is whatever's happening good or bad?"
The intensity in his dark eyes made breathing difficult. "It's good. Truly good."
Relief transformed his features, tension bleeding from his shoulders. "Then that's all I need to know."
Something shifted in his expression—the controlled Alpha facade cracking to reveal raw vulnerability beneath.
He reached across the console and took my hand, the gesture so unexpected, so unguarded, that my wolf surged with delight. His fingers interlaced with mine, warm and steady, and suddenly the chaos in my chest stilled.
"Whatever it is," he said quietly, "we'll handle it together."
The 'we' hung between us, presumptuous and comforting in equal measure.
My wolf practically purred at the contact, at this powerful Alpha showing such open need for connection. The knot of anxiety I'd carried since seeing those two lines on the test loosened.
I squeezed his hand, grateful beyond words that I'd asked him to drive me, that he'd come without questions, that he could offer strength without demanding answers. "Thank you."
He eased our hands apart to kill the engine. The cooling tick of metal followed us as we climbed out and headed inside.
We'd barely crossed the threshold when a familiar scent hit me like a physical blow.
"Princess," a maid appeared, curtseying quickly. "Alpha Devon arrived an hour ago. He's with King Magnus in the formal office."
I forgot every instruction about avoiding strain. My feet moved before thought could intervene, carrying me through corridors at nearly a run. Nathaniel's footsteps pounded behind me, keeping pace.
I burst through the office doors without knocking.
Devon stood near the window, his back to me, but he turned at my entrance. Our eyes met across twenty feet of persian rug and political consequence.
"Syrena." My name broke from his lips.
We moved simultaneously, meeting in the center of the room. His arms came around me, and for one treacherous moment, my body remembered what it felt like to be his. His scent overwhelmed everything else—home and heartbreak tangled together.
"You're really here," I breathed against his shoulder.
"I told you I'd come." His hands tightened on my waist. "I sent word this morning—"
"I didn't check my messages. I was—"
The words died as I became aware of the room's other occupants.
Nathaniel stood by the door, having entered behind me and deliberately turned the lock. Every line of his body screamed controlled violence, his eyes fixed on where Devon's hands still gripped my waist.
Magnus cleared his throat with pointed authority. "Perhaps we should remember that offices have doors for knocking, and intimate reunions belong in private quarters."
I stepped back, heat flooding my cheeks. Devon's hands lingered a beat too long before releasing me.
"Forgive me, Father." I smoothed my dress, trying to reclaim composure. "I was... surprised by the news of Devon's arrival."
"Evidently." Magnus's tone held layers of meaning. "Alpha Devon was just explaining his urgent need to see you."
"I would have been here sooner," Devon said, his eyes never leaving my face, "but your security is remarkably thorough."
"As it should be." Nathaniel's voice cut through the room like a blade. "The Princess's safety is paramount."
Devon's attention snapped to Nathaniel, and I watched him catalog everything—the proprietary stance, the familiar way Nathaniel used my title, the tension that sparked between them like flint on steel.
"I don't believe we've met," Devon said, his Alpha authority bleeding into each word.
"No," Nathaniel agreed, moving further into the room. "We haven't."
"Syrena?" Devon's eyes stayed locked on Nathaniel. "Who is this?"