Chapter 38
THIRTY-EIGHT
KOR
It was worse than I had feared.
When Vivienne opened the robe, my first reaction wasn't desire—it was alarm. The white cotton nightgown she wore beneath it was damp and clinging to her curves as though she'd been caught in a rainstorm.
The thin material had become nearly translucent in places, and I could see immediately that her breasts were swollen far beyond their normal size.
Worse, the fabric was stuck to them, outlining every painful detail and showing dark wet patches where nectar had soaked through.
The tight points of her nipples were clearly visible through the translucent fabric.
But it wasn't the sight itself that made my stomach tighten—it was the look on her face.
She was hurting.
I could see it now that I knew what to look for. The careful way she held herself, as though even the smallest movement caused discomfort…the shadows under her eyes from lack of sleep…the strain around her mouth. Goddess, she'd been suffering all morning and trying desperately to pretend otherwise.
"Wait—wait," I said, catching the edge of her robe before she could pull it closed again and flee upstairs.
My gaze swept over her and every second I looked, I became more concerned. Her breasts were visibly swollen beneath the soaked fabric, and I could tell they were tender from the way she flinched whenever the material brushed against her.
"Vivienne," I said quietly, looking back up into her face. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
For a moment she simply stood there, clutching the edges of the robe with trembling hands. Then her shoulders slumped, and she looked down at the floor.
"I didn't want you to know," she whispered at last.
Her answer made my heart fist in my chest—not because I was offended she had hidden it from me, but because it told me how frightened she must be.
Vivienne had spent twenty years being judged, criticized, and blamed for things that were never her fault.
She'd learned to carry every burden herself because no one had ever given her reason to believe she could rely on anyone else.
Even now, when she was obviously miserable, her first instinct had been to suffer in silence.
My chest ached as I looked at her.
"Sweetheart," I said softly, "you're in pain."
Her laugh was shaky and unhappy.
"You noticed that, did you?"
"Vivienne." I stepped closer, keeping my movements slow and careful so I wouldn't startle her. "You're practically crying, baby."
At that, her composure cracked completely.
She looked away, blinking rapidly.
"I tried to handle it myself," she admitted in a small voice. "I thought if I could just get the pump and take care of it, maybe it wouldn't get any worse."
So instead of asking for help, she'd immediately started trying to solve the problem alone. Because she’d only ever had herself to rely on. But now she had me—I wouldn’t stand by and let her be in pain.
"You didn’t have to do that," I said gently.
She looked up at me, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.
"What else was I supposed to do?"
She didn’t sound angry—just exhausted and sad. Suddenly I realized just how alone she must have felt when she realized her Heat Cycle was beginning with no one to turn to and no idea what was happening to her body.
The thought broke my heart.
"You could have come to me," I said quietly.
Her eyes flew to mine.
"Kor, you know I can't."
"Why not?" I asked.
She nibbled her lower lip.
"Because you know what this means."
I did know—that was the problem. I knew exactly what it meant.
The sweetness I'd been smelling all morning…the nectar…the swelling…the pain. Vivienne wasn't experiencing some mild hormonal fluctuation—she was entering a real Heat—possibly the first one of her life.
And if it continued progressing at this rate, she could be in serious danger.
The realization settled heavily in my chest as I looked at her. Right now she was embarrassed and uncomfortable and frightened. But if this kept getting worse, embarrassment was going to be the least of our concerns.
Somehow I had to convince her that she didn't have to face it alone…but how?