Chapter 16
Something was off, I could feel something was wrong.
I could feel it before I even saw her. That shift in the bond, tight, hesitant, as if she was holding her breath inside her own skin.
Layla stood at the kitchen counter, her back to me, one hand braced against the marble like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
She didn’t turn when I stepped into the room. That alone had my anger rising, my instincts flaring. Layla was a passionate soul, not one to ignore or avoid me unless she was hiding something. That alone triggered a parade of thoughts, none of them calming.
“What’s wrong?” My voice came out low, but sharp.
“Nothing,” she said quickly, too quickly as she reached for the glass of water beside her. “I think I just need some air.”
I didn’t buy it for a damn second, my body tensed as my anger escalated. She wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t let the bond open fully between us. It was like she was trying to muffle it, like a curtain drawn over a window.
I stalked closer, tilting her chin up with two fingers so she had to meet my eyes. Her pupils were wide, her skin pale. “Don’t lie to me, Layla. I warned you about lying to me”
“I’m not…” she started, but her voice cracked.
Before I could push further, Ashen appeared in the doorway, his usual silent presence carrying an edge tonight. “My lord,” he said, tone even but eyes serious, “your mate hasn’t been well, and that doesn’t make sense. Not with your blood in her system.”
Layla’s head whipped toward him, her eyes narrowing into a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Tattletale,” she muttered under her breath, but I still heard it. So did Ashen.
He didn’t so much as blink. The bastard just inclined his head a fraction, as if her accusation meant nothing compared to the weight of his duty.
My lips twitched despite my irritation, even not feeling well and pale, she still had enough fire to snap at one of my deadliest men.
Then the realization that my woman might be sick exploded in my mind .
That sent a cold thread of rage down my spine. My blood should have been enough to keep her strong, to ward off sickness and weakness. If she wasn’t well, something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Out,” I order, though my gaze never left her face. “Wait outside.” Ashen bowed once and withdrew, but his words stayed with me, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.
I released her chin, only to take her wrist instead. “You’re pale, you’re hiding something from me, and now Ashen says you’re not well. You’re going to tell me what’s going on, or I swear I’ll…”
“Roman, it’s not a big deal,” she cut in, frustration sparking in her voice. “I just haven’t been feeling great, alright? You don’t have to turn this into…”
“I will always turn it into something when it’s about you,” I snapped. “Because you’re important to me, and if something’s wrong with you, it’s my problem to fix.”
The air between us thickened, the tension coiling tight until footsteps on the marble broke it.
Viking strode into the kitchen like he owned the place, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and that infuriating smirk on his face, until he saw Layla. Then the smirk faded, replaced by something sharper.
“What’s going on here?” he asked, looking between us.
“Nothing you need to…” Layla started to say, but I cut her off.
“She’s not feeling well and was trying to hide it from me. I’m calling the doctor.” I pulled my phone from my pocket, already dialling.
Viking raised a brow but didn’t argue. Instead, he moved to the counter and set down the bottle. “Well,” he said, leaning against the marble with that lazy grin that never quite hid the sharpness in his eyes, “you look like hell, sweetheart. What’s Roman done now?”
Layla shot him a look. “This isn’t about Roman.”
“Uh-huh,” he drawled, pouring himself a drink. “Let me guess, he’s hovering, you’re pretending you’re fine, and he’s about two seconds from chaining you to the bed ‘for your own good’?”
Layla’s lips pressed into a line. “I’m just… tired. ”
Viking took a slow sip, studying her over the rim of his glass.
“Tired doesn’t make you look like you’re going to keel over.
Something’s going on, and you’re either not telling him…
” he tilted his head toward where I stood, pacing with my phone pressed to my ear, voice low and lethal “—or you’re hoping it goes away on its own. ”
She folded her arms. “Are you always this nosy?”
“Only when it’s about family,” he said simply. “And you are, whether you’re ready to admit it or not. So, if you need someone to run interference, or you want to get out before Roman decides to wrap you in bubble wrap, you come to me.”
She arched a brow as she looked at Viking. “And you’d actually help me?”
He smirked. “Oh, I’d help. But I’d also tell him the second you did something stupid. That’s called brotherly love.”
She couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her, but it was short-lived as my voice from the other end of the kitchen had dropped another octave, and even Viking’s eyes flicked toward me warily.
I ended the call with a sharp swipe of my thumb, slipping the phone into my pocket. My gaze cut to Layla instantly, heavy and unrelenting. “Doctor’s on his way,” I warn, like it was already decided and nothing Layla could say would change it.
“I don’t need…”
“You do,” I interrupted, voice flat. “You’re pale, you look exhausted. And you’ve been hiding it from me.”
Layla bristled. “I’m not hiding anything. You’re overreacting.”
My jaw ticked. “If I’m overreacting, I’ll deal with it. But I’m not going to sit here and watch you fall apart because you’re too stubborn to admit something’s wrong.”
Viking made a low whistle from the counter. “And you two say I’m dramatic.”
I shot him a look that could cut a man in half. Viking only grinned and poured himself another drink.
Layla crossed her arms, glaring. “You can’t just decide I need a doctor without even asking me.”
“I can,” I said simply. “And I did.”
We stared at each other, the air between us taut, neither willing to back down. Viking sipped his whiskey, eyes darting between us like he was watching his favourite show.
Minutes passed in a tense silence, quiet broken only by the clink of ice in Viking’s glass and the faint hum of the fridge. I stayed close, too close leaning against the opposite counter, my gaze never leaving her.
When the doorbell finally rang, the sound cracked through the stillness. I didn’t move my eyes from hers as I called, “Ashen.”
Footsteps echoed down the hall, the front door opening, then closing. Moments later, Ashen returned with a tall, man in a tailored charcoal suit carrying a slim black medical case. His hair was silver at the temples, his expression calm and precise.
“Dr. Kael,” I greeted, stepping forward to shake his hand before gesturing toward Layla. “She’s not feeling well. I want a full check.”
The doctor’s eyes settled on her, professional but not unkind. “Let’s have a seat, Mam.”
My hand was already at her back, guiding her toward the nearest chair. “Don’t fight me on this,” I murmured in her ear. “Not tonight. ”
Viking raised his glass in a mock toast. “Guess the show’s over for now. I need to leave anyway. Roman, if you need me, you know where to find me.”
Dr. Kael set his case on the table, snapping it open with practiced precision. I stood at Layla’s side, my palm flat between her shoulder blades, my thumb tracing slow circles against her spine, not so much for her comfort, but to keep myself from pacing a trench into the floor.
“Temperature first,” Dr. Kael said, slipping a sleek digital thermometer from the kit.
She tried to take it from him, but I didn’t let her. I held it steady by her arm until she huffed and raised her arm for me to slide it in between her armpit. Thirty seconds later, the faint beep was followed by Dr. Kael’s brow arching slightly.
“Temperature is normal. That is good,” he said. “Pulse next.”
He pressed his fingers to her wrist. I could see the small twitch in her jaw where she was fighting the urge to glare at me again. Her heartbeat thudded steady… but a touch fast.
“She’s nervous,” I said before Dr. Kael could speak .
Kael glanced at me but didn’t argue, moving instead to his small kit of vials and syringes. “I’d like to draw some blood.”
Layla started to protest, but I cut her off with a look. “Do it,” I told him.
The scent hit me before the needle even left her skin, spicy, rich, my throat went tight. I had to curl my fists until my nails bit into my palms to keep from leaning closer. She watched me warily, like she knew exactly what I was fighting.
Dr. Kael labelled the sample with clinical efficiency, then turned to me. “I’ll run a quick analysis here. I brought the portable unit.”
He moved to the other side of the kitchen where his case unfolded into something resembling a miniature lab. I stood behind Layla, my hands braced on the back of her chair, my body crowding hers just enough so she couldn’t shift away.
Minutes dragged by feeling like hours as my patience started fraying. The faint hum of the doctor’s machine filled the silence. When he finally turned back, there was a flicker in his expression, small, but enough to put my instincts on high alert.
“Well?” I asked, my voice sharper than I meant .
Dr. Kael’s gaze slid to Layla, then back to me. “Her vitals are stable, there is no infection, no illness. But…” He hesitated, glancing at her again.
“But what?” I stepped forward, my tone leaving no room for evasion.
He exhaled slowly. “She’s pregnant.”
The words landed like a gunshot in my skull. For a second, everything in the room went silent except for the pulse pounding in my ears. Layla froze in the chair, her eyes wide, her lips parting as if she hadn’t heard him right.
I had. I’d heard him perfectly.