104
"Is the baby alright?" Roxanne asked, her voice low, hoarse at the edges, as if the words had scraped their way out of her throat.
The question came from a place deeper than worry. It came from fear.
For two days, the tent had remained closed, fabric walls muffling the heat of pheromones and the quiet sounds of exhaustion. Servants brought food and water and left it outside the entrance without a word, none of them daring to intrude or even glance inside. Every person in camp understood what a rut meant, and none wished to disturb the Grand Duke or her omega wife while nature had them in its grip.
Now that the storm had finally passed, Vivianne was asleep.
Not just lightly, not just worn out. She slept as though her body had surrendered itself completely to rest, sinking deeply into the soft furs with her breathing slow and steady. She had barely stirred in hours. She didn't wake when Roxanne shifted beside her. She didn't respond to whispers of her name. She simply slept.
