Chapter 20
I hadn’t thought much about the doctor who’d come to the house the night Roman found out I was pregnant.
He’d been quiet, efficient, almost unnervingly calm while Roman had been a storm in motion.
But now, sitting in the waiting room of his private clinic with Roman’s hand warm on my thigh, I realized I’d never asked why he was the doctor that Roman wanted me to see as I didn’t think he was a Gynaecologist.
I’m sure it wasn’t just because he was discreet.
When the nurse finally ushered us into his office, I understood immediately as his eyes weren’t human.
They were not glowing, nothing obvious, but there was an ancient stillness in them that screamed predator.
His skin was too smooth, too even, like time had given up trying to mark him.
His voice when he greeted Roman held that deep, velvet edge I’d heard in every vampire I’d met so far .
I turned to Roman the moment the door closed. “He’s a vampire.”
Roman didn’t even try to soften it. “Of course. You think I’d let anyone else examine you and our child?”
The words our child still sent a shiver through me, even in the middle of my suspicion.
When the doctor re-entered and gestured for me to sit on the leather examination table. He explained, “I’ve been through this before. Very few vampires conceive, and even fewer do so with a human mate. There are… unique risks and precautions.”
I sat, my hands twisting together in my lap. “Risks?”
Roman stayed standing, arms folded, eyes fixed on the doctor like he was already prepared to fight the answer.
“The pregnancy will be more demanding on your body,” the doctor explained.
“Your child will inherit some traits from the vampire bloodline. That means stronger growth patterns, heightened senses… even in your utero. You’ll need more rest, more blood-rich foods, and Roman’s blood, regularly.
Your body will burn through energy faster than normal. And… ”
He glanced at Roman, who nodded for him to go on.
“…you’ll need to avoid stress wherever possible. Emotional and physical strain can trigger early labour in vampire-human pregnancies.”
Roman’s hands were fisted; his jaw had tightened. “What about the birth?”
The doctor didn’t flinch. “It’s rare for these pregnancies to go to full term, but we’ll monitor Layla closely. Intervention may be necessary before her due date. But with proper care…” His gaze slid back to me. “and with your mate’s vigilance, you and the child will be fine.”
Roman asked question after question. He wanted to know about nutrition, about what signs to watch for, about exactly how much of his blood I needed and when.
I listened, feeling strangely like an observer in my own appointment, but also…
reassured. He wasn’t just overprotective. He was relentlessly thorough.
By the time we left, my nerves were on edge. The city lights shimmered on the wet pavement as Roman guided me towards the SUV where Rael opened the back door for us to slide in before Ashen drove us home .
When he pulled into the driveway, Roman didn’t get out immediately. “You go inside baby. I’ve got something to handle.”
“What kind of something?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
The corner of his mouth lifted, barely. “It’s just work.” And then, into his phone, his voice dropping into that lethal register, “Draugr… you wait for me, I’ll be the one to finish it.”
My stomach tightened. I opened my mouth to tell him that I didn’t want him putting himself in any kind of danger, but before I could, the door next to me opened and Ashen inclined his head, waiting silently for me to get out of the SUV.
Stepping down, I caught the faintest flicker of concern in his eyes before he fell into step behind me.
The cool night air clung to my skin as I made my way to the entrance, Ashen a steady shadow at my back, while Roman remained in the SUV, his deep voice low and lethal as he continued speaking to Draugr.
Inside, the house was warm, the scent of polished wood and faint incense wrapping around me. Gideon’s voice called from the sitting room before I’d even taken three steps past the foyer.
“I believe you know Celeste,” he said as I turned toward him.
Behind him stood a tall, perfectly put-together woman with honey-brown hair falling in glossy waves over her shoulders, her fitted black dress looking like it had been poured onto her frame. Her smile was smooth, practiced like she’d perfected it in a mirror until it could pass for genuine.
“Lucien mentioned you might need some help with Havoc’s renovations,” Gideon added. “She sells bar furniture and fixtures.”
Before I could respond, I heard the sound of the front door opening again. Heavy, confident steps crossed the marble. Roman had come in from the SUV, phone no longer in hand, his eyes immediately locking onto me.
And then he saw her. “Celeste,” he greeted, his tone polite but cold enough to frost glass.
She gave a smile that was just a little too bright. “Roman. Nice seeing you again.”
He didn’t waste a second before crossing the room to me. His arm slid firmly around my waist, pulling me back against the hard wall of his chest. The gesture wasn’t casual, it was deliberate, a claim written in the heat of his touch and the way his body curved protectively around mine.
His scent surrounded me instantly, grounding me, even as my heart thumped harder. Celeste’s gaze flicked to where his hand rested low on my hip, her smile tightening at the edges.
Roman’s mouth lowered just enough for his words to skim the shell of my ear. “You good?” he murmured, voice meant for me alone.
I nodded, even though a part of me wanted to drag him upstairs and ask what exactly the call was about.
Instead, I looked at Celeste politely, but it was impossible to miss the way her gaze locked on Roman like he was the only man in the world worth looking at.
The way her voice shifted, lighter with a warmer tone when she spoke to him.
Something in my chest prickled. “Celeste sells bar furniture and fixtures, Lucien thought she could help with Havoc.” I say
Roman nodded in acknowledgement, but before he left, his eyes swept over me. He frowned, that instinctive predator’s scan. “You’re sure you’re, okay?”
I forced a smile. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t look convinced, but he left, and somehow that made me feel better. Maybe because it proved that whatever game Celeste thought she was playing, she wasn’t winning.
She went into her sales pitch, with glossy photos of high-end leather bar stools, brushed brass fixtures, custom shelving. I listened, nodded, asked questions, but the whole time I kept wondering why she’d really shown up tonight.
When she finally left, Gideon lingered near the window, watching her car pull away.
“She was here for him,” I said, more accusation than question.
Gideon’s lips twitched into something close to a smirk. “Probably.”
That did not make me feel better. “And you think I should just… be fine with that?”
He turned to face me fully, arms crossed. “Layla, listen to me. Now that he’s found his mate, there is no one else. No other woman could tempt him, even if they tried for a hundred years. His eyes, his hands, his heart, they’re yours and only yours.”
The words should have calmed me, but they didn’t. Instead, they scraped along the inside of my chest like sandpaper. I did not like the idea of another woman trying to steal Roman’s attention, It didn’t matter if she was here for business or just passing through.
And now… now there was the pregnancy. The knowledge sat in my mind like a weight.
My body was going to change. I was going to swell, I was going to lose the sharp lines and curves he loved to run his hands over.
I was about to get fat, and slowdown. The thought made something hot and ugly curl in my stomach.
Roman was mine, but women like Celeste, the sleek, polished, and calculated women, were the kind of threat that slithered under your skin, the kind that made you doubt yourself even when you had no reason to.
She looked like the sort of woman who didn’t get messy, who didn’t get tired, who didn’t spend half the day wondering if she was good enough for the man she wanted.
A knot of insecurity tightened in my stomach.
My mind wandered, unhelpfully, to Rosemary.
For all her flaws, and there were plenty, she was the one person I could have unloaded this to without feeling judged.
I wished I could pick up the phone and just…
vent, laugh, or even cry about something as stupid as feeling threatened by a woman with perfect hair. But that wasn’t my life anymore.
Not with the way things were. Because of what I was now, because I wouldn’t age, and sooner or later she would notice, therefore, there had to be distance.
Rosemary was still human. Still fragile.
And after what happened with the demon… it wasn’t just about keeping her safe, it was about keeping my world from bleeding into hers.
Roman had assured me that she’d been feeling better, recovering from the influence that had twisted her mind, and he’d made sure she had a house and a monthly income that would keep her comfortable.
I’d called her once since our last argument.
The conversation had been stiff, clipped.
No accusations, but no warmth either. It was better, in some ways.
Safer. But it didn’t stop the hollow ache in my chest, the feeling of being alone with my thoughts, like there was no one outside of Roman I could talk to anymore .
I must have been wearing that look because Gideon, who’d been leaning casually against the doorway, caught my eye.
“Don’t make that face,” he said, voice dry but not unkind. “That’s the ‘I’m overthinking myself into a corner’ look.”
I blinked at him, caught off guard. “You can tell that just by looking at me?”
“Layla, I’ve been watching people my whole life,” he said, the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth. “You’re one of the easiest to read. Also, you just sighed like you were in a bad soap opera.”
Despite myself, a small laugh slipped out, easing the tightness in my chest.
“There it is,” Gideon said, pointing at me like he’d scored a victory. “Keep that. It suits you better than that kicked-puppy thing you were doing a second ago.”