15. Cas #3
“Fine,” I hear myself say, standing reluctantly to present myself. Might as well get it over with, I guess. The waiting and wondering will only serve as torment; a week isn’t much of a gift in the scheme of things.
“How’s Eden, by the way?” This from Adrian, now pawing through the basket for more treats.
“Upset. Predictably.” Niall thrusts his chin over his shoulder. “Do you mind, love? Maybe you should check in with him.”
Adrian takes the hint and makes himself scarce. I glance out at the hallway before the door shuts, and for a moment wonder what any of them would do if I bolted. Because it’s not like it’s locked right now. I could run. Find my alphas, and—
—and…nothing. Because it’s all so utterly pointless. My time with them is short, no matter what happens. What would we do, anyway? Run away together? Live out the remaining months in some semblance of bliss, ignoring the inevitable? Is that all we can do?
I can’t even blame them for what they did, not really. I saw what I turned the pack into before my heat took over entirely. It’s my fault for coming here. I did this to them.
I unwind the soft pink blanket from my body, fold it and lay it carefully on the chair. I present myself to Niall and his dispassionate gaze, his touch impersonal as he examines each wound in turn.
“Can you tell Eden I’m sorry?” I ask him quietly.
“You should tell him yourself.”
“Is Declan going to let me out so I can?”
His mouth twitches. “Touché.” A sigh. “I’ll tell him.”
“I didn’t know. Really.”
“I know you didn’t.” He takes my chin and tilts it so he can get a better look at the marks on my neck. I hear him suck in a breath. “Hell. They both really mated you, didn’t they?”
“Not the sort of thing one lies about.”
“Not something you hear about often, either, being mated twice.” He hums. “They even look like they’re both well on their way to healing like proper mating bites.”
And there’s nothing to really say to Niall about what’s possible and what’s not, so I say nothing at all. I’ve long since stopped assuming I know anything about the world. That’s been taken from me too, the security of knowing. And any kind of security at all, besides.
Both the beta’s palms and gaze linger on the ugly, misshapen scar that wraps around my abdomen.
“This isn’t terribly old,” he murmurs.
How old is it? Time in captivity has blurred into one dark, awful smear. I actually don’t remember anymore. Couldn’t pinpoint it if I tried, which I don’t, because I don’t want to.
“That’s your cue,” he prompts. “To tell me how you got this.”
I play obtuse. “Huh?”
Niall takes the hint for now and says nothing further. He instead presses his hands to my belly. The comforting touch would be almost pleasant, except—except that he’s looking for signs of a quickening. Of a baby. I have to stop myself from grabbing his wrists and wrenching him off me.
He drops his hands. “Sorry,” he says. “I can tell you hate this.”
My chest is heaving. “Am I?”
“Are you..?”
“Pregnant,” I whisper.
The beta looks up at me. His hands are still outstretched, palms up.
“I can’t tell for sure. Like you said, it’s early.
There’s a certain smell that accompanies a successful breeding, and you don’t have it.
Yet.” His nostrils gently flare. “Snowdrops—slightly almond and creamy. That’s normal for you, right? ”
I have to grab onto the back of one of the chairs to keep myself from toppling over. “So this was pointless?”
Niall shakes his head. “What happened to you?” He approaches again, almost warily.
“That scar looks like a botched caesarean. I get that you barely know me, but this is what I do. I’m a professional.
If you need it, I can give you medicine.
Some cream, too, that’ll help with its appearance if that’s something you care about. ”
I grab the blanket off the chair and wrap it around myself with trembling hands. “I just want to know if I’m pregnant or not,” I say, ignoring everything else he said.
“I’ll be able to know for sure in a week,” he says. “But if you prefer, we can do a pregnancy test then instead. Most wolves prefer the sniff test, but you—”
“You can’t tell anyone,” I interrupt. “About the scar or what it could mean.” My fingers dig into the fleece. “Niall, please. I’m begging you. You can’t tell anyone. Not even Adrian.”
“I won’t tell a soul.”
I take a deep breath, eyes fluttering briefly shut. “Thank you.”
I can feel his frustration at my lack of answers.
Smell it, even, like something bitter, burnt coffee.
It roils off him in sluggish waves. For a moment we’re at a standoff, staring each other down, my heartbeat a rapid, rabbit-like thing.
“Cas, this doesn’t change what happened.
You’re still mated. Nathan and Kato went against Declan’s orders.
There’s two bodies in the ground and someone will need to answer for them. ”
What he leaves unspoken is that it will have consequences for all of us.
“I know,” I say softly. “Thank you, Niall.”
He stands there and looks at me a moment, before collecting himself and leaving with an equally quiet goodbye. I’m left alone in my prison once more.
And through the bond, I can only feel the lush quickening of desire.