Six weeks pregnant.
I stared at the words on the screen, waiting for something—relief, fear, even joy. Nothing came.
Just the quiet understanding that this would only make him hate me more.
It had only happened once. Just one reckless night, one moment when instinct overshadowed reason. How could that single misstep lead to this?
As I stepped out of the examination room, my thoughts spiraled. What was I supposed to do now? What choices did I even have?
Ashton's face abruptly emerged in my mind. Calm. Cold. Completely unfazed by anything beyond his pack or his role as Alpha.
Should I tell him?
A bitter laugh rose in my throat. If he found out, he'd never believe it was an accident. He'd think I planned it, using a child, using a bond that had long since frayed, to trap him. To keep him from cutting me loose.
I carefully folded the report and tucked it away in my bag, as if hiding it could somehow still my racing pulse. The scent of antiseptic lingered as I made my way outside.
A sleek black Maybach waited by the curb, poised like a predator ready to pounce. The window was lowered just enough for me to see Ashton behind the wheel. Even in stillness, he commanded attention; his presence was magnetic, drawing eyes to him like gravity.
There was a quiet power about him, not loud or grandiose, just undeniable.
I had long become accustomed to the stares that came with being tied to the Alpha. I ignored them and climbed into the passenger seat.
The moment I settled in, the atmosphere shifted. Ashton had been resting with his eyes closed, but I could sense his tension building as he tightened his jaw. He didn't look at me when he asked, "Is it done?"
"Yes." I handed him the folder. My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Dr. Ludwick asked me to send his regards."
He nodded but didn't take the papers. "You'll handle the rest."
That was Ashton, a few words, clear commands, no room for discussion.
"You're good at taking care of loose ends," he added, eyes still on the road. "You always have been."
I nodded, and silence enveloped us, thick and familiar. He started the engine, and we merged into the traffic with a smoothness that made it feel almost effortless.
Following him had become second nature, listening, obeying, never questioning where we were headed or why. That's how life worked when bound to someone like him, even if that bond was starting to fray.
As the city lights began to blink on with the onset of evening, I noticed we weren't heading toward the villa. Confusion bubbled up inside me, but I kept it to myself, as always.
My bag felt heavier, the report inside burning against my side, almost alive with its own heartbeat. I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again.
How do you tell a man like Ashton that something permanent is growing inside you?
I risked a glance at him. His hands were steady on the wheel, eyes fixed on the road ahead, sharp and unyielding. He exuded a confidence that seemed untouched by doubt or fear, like he was born to lead and command, never looking back.
Beside him, I felt small and torn, caught between my heart's desires and my instincts warning me to stay silent.
The car moved forward, and so did he.
I stayed quiet, carrying a secret that already knew how to howl.
"Ashton," I whispered, his name slipping out before I could stop it. My fingers tightened around my bag, my palms damp, and my chest tight as if something inside me was pacing with no place to go.
"Speak."
"If this is about feelings," he continued coldly, "save it. We're past that."
His voice was flat and sharp, landing like a command rather than an invitation. That was how he always spoke to me, authority first, emotion last. I let a few seconds pass, forcing myself to breathe. My shoulders slowly lowered. I had faced worse from him; I could do this.
"I'm…"
Pregnant. The word pressed against my tongue, heavy and real.
"Whatever you're about to say," he said, "make it quick. Rebecca's been fragile lately. I don't need unnecessary stress."
I was about to let it fall when his phone rang. The sound sliced through the moment.
"Rebecca, what's wrong?" His voice changed instantly, softening as warmth crept in, the kind I had never been given. I stared straight ahead as he listened, his focus already pulled away from me.
Whatever she said made his grip on the wheel tighten. He hit the brakes suddenly, and the car skidded to a hard stop.
"Alright," he said gently. "I'll be there soon. Stay where you are. Don't move."
The call ended, and the warmth vanished, replaced by the cold as if it had never left.
He finally looked at me. His eyes were distant and unreadable. "Get out."
"Get out," he said. Then, as if remembering something inconvenient, he added,
"And don't make things complicated right now. I'm already dealing with enough."
That was it. No explanation, no hesitation. This was not new. I nodded, swallowing every word I had rehearsed. Opening the door, I stepped out, the night air brushing against my skin as the car pulled away without a backward glance.
I stood for a moment, watching the taillights disappear. What we had was never built on love; it was a forced bond, nothing more. His heart had always belonged to Rebecca. I was just a name written beside his in the pack records, a mistake, an inconvenience.
Two years ago, his grandfather had collapsed. While lying in a hospital bed, he demanded that Ashton take a mate, not out of love, but out of tradition and duty. Ashton agreed for the older man's sake; that was the only reason I stood beside him. While his grandfather lived, Ashton ignored me. Once the old Alpha passed, the silence turned sharp, lawyers, papers, and an ending he had been waiting for.
By the time I returned to the villa, the sky was fully dark. The house felt hollow, too large, too quiet. It echoed when I walked through it, as if it no longer recognized me.
I wasn't hungry. My body felt strange lately, tired in a way that sleep didn't fix. I went straight to my room, washed up, and lay down, curling slightly on my side without thinking.
Sometime later, half asleep, I heard it, a car engine, slow and familiar. It stopped in the courtyard.
My eyes opened.
Ashton? Wasn't he supposed to be with her?
I lay there in the dark, one hand resting on my stomach, my heart beating louder than the silence.