Chapter 664 - The youth nowadays

Chapter 664: Chapter 664 - The youth nowadays

The color drained from Seraphine’s face, leaving her skin pale as moonlight on snow. Her fingers dug into the thin hospital sheet, knuckles white with desperation. "Don’t inject me with anesthesia." Her voice, though weak, carried the steel of command. "Just stop the bleeding and do the scan."

The medical team exchanged uneasy glances but obeyed. Needles glinted under the harsh fluorescent lights. Monitors beeped in steady, relentless rhythm. The antiseptic smell burned her nostrils, and beneath it, the faint, coppery tang of blood, her blood.

Two hours crawled by like a wounded animal. Finally, the bleeding slowed to a trickle, then stopped. The pain receded to a dull, throbbing ache, but Seraphine’s relief was short-lived.

"Discharge me." She pushed herself upright, ignoring the protests of her body. "And Voren shouldn’t hear about this."

Doctor Finn’s mouth fell open. "Queen—"

Oriana cut him off, stepping forward with the quiet authority of a woman who had seen too much to be swayed by titles. "You know she’s not just a queen but also a doctor. Do as she has said."

Her gaze swept to Seraphine, softening. "I will have time for her from now onwards. What she’s carrying is beyond medicine."

The doctors yielded. Seraphine exhaled, gratitude flooding through her chest. At least Oriana understood.

The wheelchair squeaked as Oriana pushed her through the corridor. Seraphine’s head lifted, and her heart clenched. They were all still there. Corvine, Liah, Kael, Damon, Vladimir, and the shaman.

"It’s late." Oriana’s tone was light, almost teasing. "You all should go and sleep."

Corvine didn’t smile. His jaw was tight, his shoulders rigid with tension that hadn’t eased since Seraphine had crumpled. "I’ll carry her to her room."

Seraphine opened her mouth to refuse, but the thought of Voren returning to find her in a wheelchair sent ice through her veins. "What are you waiting for?" She managed a weak smile, her voice tinged with forced humor. "Be fast."

Corvine scooped her up as if she weighed nothing. His arms were steady, his stride sure, but she could feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat against her side. He was terrified. They all were.

The suite corridors stretched before them, carved from ancient rock yet gleaming with modern luxury, polished floors, ambient lighting, the finest furnishings money could buy.

It looked like a seven-star hotel nestled in the heart of the wilderness. But tonight, its beauty felt cold, indifferent to the fear coursing through its halls.

Corvine deposited her gently on her sofa. Oriana settled beside her, her presence a warm, steady anchor.

"You should go," Seraphine murmured, her gaze finding Corvine.

He hesitated, something unspoken flickering in his eyes. Then he nodded and slipped out. But he didn’t go to his own suite. Instead, his feet carried him to the pack’s entrance, where he planted himself like a sentinel, eyes fixed on the darkness beyond.

The night air bit at his skin, crisp and unforgiving. The pack’s entrance loomed behind him, a masterpiece of stone and glass, but Corvine barely noticed. His focus was on the path that led into the forest, the path Voren would take when he returned.

Footsteps approached. Damon emerged from the shadows, his breath misting in the cold air. "Go inside, Alpha. I’ll wait for him."

Corvine shook his head. "I’m fine."

"You have a wife now." Damon’s voice was gentle but firm. "I’m still single. Let me take this watch."

A ghost of a smile tugged at Corvine’s lips. "Hey, don’t use those titles when addressing me." He clasped Damon’s shoulder, his grip firm with gratitude. "But promise me you’ll keep these clothes ready for Voren when he gets back."

Damon nodded, his expression solemn. "I’ll stand right here."

Corvine squeezed his shoulder once more, then turned and walked back toward his suite.

---

Oriana moved through the suite with the quiet efficiency of a mother tending to her young. She helped Seraphine shower, her hands gentle as she washed the dried sweat and lingering fear from her skin.

Steam curled around them, fogging the mirrors, cocooning them in warmth. Then came the soup. The scent hit Seraphine before she saw it, earthy, pungent, laced with herbs she couldn’t name.

Her stomach lurched violently. She pressed a hand to her mouth, fighting the wave of nausea.

Oriana noticed. Without a word, she reached for a small pouch on the counter, her movements practiced and sure. She mixed a pinch of something into a cup of water and pressed it into Seraphine’s hands.

"Drink."

Seraphine obeyed. The nausea ebbed, retreating like a tide. She sipped the soup, forcing it down, then brushed her teeth twice to erase any trace of the herbs from her breath. Voren couldn’t know.

Oriana settled onto the edge of the bed, her eyes sharp and knowing. "I don’t have to tell you to refrain from sexual and other strenuous activities from now onwards, do I?"

Heat flooded Seraphine’s cheeks. She dropped her gaze, suddenly fascinated by the pattern on the duvet. "Mom, I think it’s because of training. I didn’t want the pack to think I was weak and got too physical."

The excuse sounded hollow even to her own ears.

Oriana’s brow arched, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "The youth nowadays." She shook her head, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in her expression.

"I never had sex throughout my first trimester with Voren. I only did it a few times in my second. My third trimester was a no, no." She let the words hang in the air, heavy with implication. "But you..."

Seraphine yanked the duvet over her face, her cheeks burning. She couldn’t look the woman in the eyes, couldn’t bear the knowing gaze of a mother who saw everything.

"Mom, I don’t want Voren to know what happened today. And he’ll be suspicious if I deny him."

Oriana sighed, the sound soft and weary. She reached over and tugged the duvet down, revealing Seraphine’s flushed face. "Then be honest with him. I carried a black wolf. You are carrying two of its seeds."

Her voice dropped, weighted with gravity. "If knowing is the only way to make him stop, then you have to tell him. Or I will."

Seraphine said nothing. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.

Oriana waited. When it became clear that sleep wouldn’t come for Seraphine, she rose from the bed. "I’ll be at the shaman’s cave. Mindlink me if you feel any discomfort."

Seraphine nodded, watching as the older woman glided from the room. The door clicked shut, and suddenly, the suite felt cavernous and empty.

She wanted to sleep. Her body screamed for rest, her eyelids heavy as lead. But her mind churned, circling the same anxious thought like a wolf pacing its cage. Voren. She couldn’t rest until he was home.

When he finally returned, the tension in her chest unraveled, replaced by a different kind of fear. He was here. Safe. But now, she had no excuse to offer, no reason to deny him the intimacy he was seeking, unless she told him the truth.