Chapter 21 - Chris
I’m seated on the bench in the hall, my feet tapping restlessly against the floor with my elbows on my knees. I can’t stop worrying about her illness. She fell sick the very day her so-called family came visiting.
I have no idea what’s wrong with her, and a part of me wants to blame the family. Perhaps it’s some kind of witchcraft—dark magic—to make sure she doesn’t enjoy her stay at the palace.
It’s a crazy thought, I know. However, the fact that none of us have any idea what’s actually going on is driving me insane.
“Would you relax?” Wayne’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” He’s leaning against the wall, unusually calm in a situation like this.
“How can you be so sure?” I glance up at him.
“Because she’s not sick,” he says.
I pause. “Are you messing with me?” My brows knit together. “Morning sickness, dizziness, nausea, body aches, and constant vomiting.”
“These are all symptoms, Chris,” he says, a small knowing grin playing on his lips.
“Yeah, symptoms of an illness we know nothing about.”
He chuckles quietly. “Speak for yourself. I know exactly what’s wrong with her.”
Confused, I turn to face Sinth, who’s sitting beside me.
“Don’t look at me,” he says, removing himself from the equation.
“Well, if you’re so enlightened, why don’t you just tell us what’s wrong with her?” I say to Wayne.
He arches his brows. “I can’t believe you’re so naive.”
The healer’s door opens, and she steps out looking all pale and shocked.
I’m on my feet in an instant, already closing the distance with a few long strides. “Are you okay?” I ask, hands on her shoulders, voice laced with urgency. “What did he say is wrong with you?”
She hesitates, her eyes shifting across our faces. “Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m not sick.”
“Told you, didn’t I?” Wayne boasts.
“Are you alright, though?” Sinth asks her.
“Yes.” She nods, a small smile of uncertainty tugging at her lips. “We both are.”
“Brace yourselves.” Wayne chuckles quietly.
“We?” I ask, my face a mask of bewilderment.
Her hand darts to her lower abdomen, and her smile broadens. “Apparently I’m…I’m with child.”
“Oh, yes indeed!” Wayne laughs.
My heart skips a beat and strange feelings take over my whole body.
“You’re pregnant?” Sinth’s eyebrows rise in surprise.
“Yes.” She nods, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Oh, my God, this is good news,” he says.
“No,” I object.
She looks at me, confused.
“It’s the best news I’ve heard my whole life,” I confess, pulling her into my embrace.
This is the first step towards our future. When a mate is shared, the successors of each pack are chosen randomly from amongst the children born. This child, if an Alpha, could be the next leader of either one of our packs, and the siblings after them will take the others.
My heart swells with pride.
It turns out that the idiot Wayne already knew she was carrying our child.
“Wait, how long have you known?” Sinth asks him.
“Just recently,” he says. “I put the pieces together because I’m the smart one.”
She laughs.
“And you didn’t think to share such information with us?” I frown at him.
“Well, where’s the fun in that? I like watching you stress over nothing.”
We laugh. All of us—each one excited about this new chapter of our lives.
***
I’ve never fussed over anyone before. I fuss over Charlize now, constantly, and I don’t much care how it looks.
“You need to eat more,” I tell her over breakfast, pushing a second plate toward her before she’s finished the first.
“I’m not that hungry, Chris.” Her voice is sweet and tender.
“I know. But you’re eating for two now.”
“I’m barely eating for one and a half.” She smiles at me anyway, patient with my hovering in a way I don’t fully deserve.
Wayne is worse than I am, if that’s even possible. He’s had the kitchens preparing a rotating list of things she mentioned craving even once, in passing, weeks ago.
Sinth reads to her every evening now, insisting rest matters more than anything else, fussing over pillows and blankets until she swats him away, laughing.
“The three of you are unbearable,” she says, though there’s no real complaint in it.
“Get used to it, cutie,” Wayne says. “This is the rest of your life now.”
We tell Elder Corvin the news ourselves, expecting relief, maybe even celebration given how hard the council has pushed for exactly this outcome.
We don’t get either.
Corvin’s face goes carefully blank the moment we finish speaking.
“You’re certain?” Elder Edgar asks, also present in the hall.
“The healer confirmed it,” Sinth says. “We’d like to arrange an announcement. Something proper, for the council and the packs both.”
“I would advise against that.” Corvin folds his hands deliberately. “Her wolf remains dormant. Unstable, by the healer’s own account. A pregnancy under those conditions carries real risk—to her, and to the child.”
“We’re aware of the risk,” I say. “We intend to manage it carefully.”
“Managing it isn’t the concern.” Edgar’s tone sharpens. “The concern is what kind of heir a wolf that weak produces. If her instability passes to the child, we could be looking at a pup as fragile as she is. Shiftless, perhaps. Unfit to lead anything, let alone three territories.”
The words land like ice water.
I feel the old version of myself stir at that. The one who once stood in a throne room and called her not worth the trouble. The one who would have nodded along with exactly this reasoning moons ago without a second thought.
I’m not that man anymore. The realization settles into me, certain and immovable.
“Careful,” I say, low. “You’re speaking about our child. And our mate.”
“I’m speaking practically, my King. Someone must,” he insists.
“You’re speaking about a woman who has done nothing but survive everything this world has thrown at her, and a child who hasn’t even drawn breath yet.” Sinth’s voice is sharper than usual.
Edgar opens his mouth to respond.
Wayne steps forward and hurls a punch in his face.
It happens fast. One moment the elder is drawing breath to argue further. The next he’s on the floor, jaw already swelling.
Wayne stands over him with his fist still clenched and no trace of regret on his face.
“Nobody speaks about our mate or our unborn child in that manner—do you understand?!” He growls, flashing his canes with claws out. His Alpha eyes are glowing as veins line his forehead.
He’s pissed. Apparently more pissed than Sinth and I. On a good day, I would’ve cautioned him—scolded him for striking an elder. But honestly, if he hadn’t done so, I most definitely would’ve hit him too.
“My lord,” Corvin steps between Wayne and the elder on the floor. “That’s enough.”
Edgar stares up at Wayne, stunned, blood at the corner of his mouth. Guards move toward Wayne immediately, and for one tense second I think this is about to become something far worse than a single punch.
“Stand down,” I say, before anyone else can act. “All of you.”
“My King, he struck an elder—”
“He struck a man who insulted his mate and unborn child.” I keep my voice level, though something in me feels entirely unfamiliar—defending Wayne’s temper instead of condemning it.
Sinth steps forward too, steady, backing me without a moment’s hesitation. “He’s not wrong to be angry. None of us are wrong to be angry.”
The guards hesitate, glancing between the three of us.
“That’s enough, all of you,” Corvin says. “We all need to calm down. We’re on the same side here.”
***
The three of us spend the rest of the day managing the fallout.
Edgar’s injury needs tending. His pride needs tending more, and that takes considerably longer. A tense meeting with the remaining council members, careful negotiation to keep the incident from spiraling into something the wider packs hear about and misinterpret.
Wayne sits through all of it in silence, unrepentant, arms crossed. He didn’t speak at all. Sinth and I did the talking and the negotiating. After the meeting, the elders all exit the room, leaving just the three of us.
“I can’t stand that Edgar of a person,” he says the moment we’re alone. “He’s an asshole.”
“He is indeed.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“You know, moons ago you would have agreed with him,” Wayne says it plainly, no malice in it. “Funny how that works.”
“You’re right.” I don’t argue the point further, because there isn’t one to make. “You defended her. Both of you, before I even found the words myself. I won’t forget that.”
Sinth claps a hand on Wayne’s shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I’d have hit him myself if you hadn’t gotten there first.”
Wayne grins at that, some of the tension finally easing from his shoulders.
By evening, the three of us are eager to get back to her—to tell her everything’s handled, to fuss over her the way we’ve fussed over her every day since the healer’s news.
Her room is empty.
The nest sits undisturbed, blankets still holding the shape of where she slept last night, but there’s no sign of her anywhere in the room. No note. No servant who’s seen her since midday.
Something cold drops through my chest.
“Charlize?” I call, though I already know there won’t be an answer.
Silence answers instead, heavy and absolute, and the three of us exchange a single look before moving, all at once, to search the palace grounds.