Damien
“You’re what?!”
“I’m pregnant,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “You’re gonna be a father. Finally.”
He stood there, motionless.
This should have been a moment of joy. Relief. Maybe even pride.
But he felt… nothing. No spark. No warmth. Just the echo of her words hanging in the space between them.
She watched him carefully, eyes searching his face like a battlefield—waiting for a reaction, aching for it. He saw it then—the tiny flicker of hope behind her gaze, the way her shoulders tensed, bracing for the weight of his silence.
But before he could speak—before he could lie, or tell the truth, or find whatever expression he was supposed to wear—the door slammed open.
A guard burst in, breathless. “Alpha, the Luna… she collapsed!”
My blood turned to ice. I was on my feet in a heartbeat. “Where?” I growled, already pushing past him.
Outside, I saw her—Felicia—sprawled on the grass like something vital had been ripped from her. My chest tightened. Danielle was kneeling beside her, throwing glances at me, feigned panic all over her face.
“She just fainted out of nowhere!” Danielle clutched her stomach, trying to look horrified. I didn’t even acknowledge her.
I dropped to my knees, scooped Felicia up into my arms. She felt so light. Too light. Her head lolled back against my shoulder like a broken doll. “Open the damn door,” I barked, not caring how raw my voice sounded.
Danielle scrambled, fumbling the handle before swinging the door open. I slid Felicia gently into the back seat, brushing hair from her face, then climbed into the front and slammed the door shut.
Danielle sat next to me, sniffling softly. I didn’t say a word. My jaw clenched. My thoughts wouldn’t stop racing. Was she sick? Had I missed the signs? Why the hell hadn’t I noticed sooner?
At the hospital, the nurses took her immediately. I stood there useless, fists clenched, trying to breathe through the rage and fear building inside me.
“She’ll be fine,” I muttered, but it sounded weak even to my own ears.
“Damien…” Danielle’s voice pulled me back. I turned to her, and the look on her face made my stomach churn. Teary, fragile, trembling.
“I hope I’m not the reason,” she whispered, laying her hand over her stomach. “Is this… because of me? Because of our child?”
I looked away, jaw tightening. Her timing was never accidental.
“She had suitcases,” she added, voice breaking. “Is she leaving because of me?”
I dragged in a shaky breath. “She asked for the divorce,” I said flatly. “Not me.”
Danielle started crying harder. I caught her as she stumbled forward into my arms. I didn’t have the strength to push her away. Not now. Not with the way everything was unraveling.
“I never wanted to cause trouble,” she whimpered into my chest. “I just wanted you to be happy.”
I closed my eyes. “It’s not your fault,” I said quietly, even if a part of me wasn’t sure who to blame anymore.
She looked up at me, eyes glistening. “I just… I hate seeing you hurt.”
Something cracked inside me. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe I just needed to feel something that didn’t ache. I leaned in and kissed her.
She melted into me, her hands finding the back of my neck. The kiss deepened, and logic slipped further away.
“Take me home,” she breathed. “Please… where no one can interrupt us.”
I hesitated. My eyes flicked toward the hospital doors. Felicia was in there. Alone.
“Please,” Danielle whispered again, and that look—those damned tears—sank their hooks into me.
I slid back into the driver’s seat and started the engine. She leaned in, lips grazing my ear.
A groan escaped me before I could stop it.
I drove off, not looking back.