A Baby

A Baby
I stared at the ceiling while she worked. She pressed on my abdomen. Asked questions about timing. About the last time I'd been with my mate. About my normal cycle.

I answered mechanically. Gave her the information she needed. Tried not to think about what the answers meant. Tried not to let hope or fear take root until I knew.

She stepped back. Washed her hands. Turned to face me with a gentle expression. "You're pregnant," she said. "Early still. Maybe six weeks. But definitely pregnant."

The words hit like a physical blow. Pregnant. I was pregnant. Carrying Darian's child. Carrying a life inside me that we'd created together. The room spun. I sat up slowly. Tried to breathe. Tried to process. Tried to understand what this meant.

"Are you alright?" the healer asked. Concerned. Ready to catch me if I fell.

"I don't know."

"This is unexpected?"

"Yes. Very."

"Do you want to discuss options?"

"No. I just need time. To think. To figure this out."

She nodded. "Of course. Come back if you need anything. Or if you have questions. This is confidential. I won't tell anyone without your permission."

"Thank you."

I left the medical house on unsteady legs. Walked back to my quarters in a daze. Everything looked the same. The settlement. The people. The mountains in the distance. But everything had changed. Everything was different now.

I was pregnant. Going to have a baby. Darian's baby. A child neither of us had planned for. Neither of us had discussed. A child I was carrying alone because I'd run away. Because I'd given up. Because I'd let fear win.

I made it to my room. Closed the door. Locked it. Sat on the bed. Stared at nothing. My hands went to my stomach automatically. Flat still. No visible sign. But inside. Growing. Living. Real. A baby. My baby. Our baby.

The emotions came all at once. Shock. Disbelief. Fear. Terror. But also something else. Something warm. Something protective. Something that felt like love already.

My wolf surged forward. Joyful. Excited. Protective. She'd known. Had been trying to tell me. Now she was pleased. Content. Ready to guard our pup with everything we had.

But I was scared. Terrified. Of being pregnant. Of having a baby. Of raising a child. Of doing it alone. Of failing. Of not being enough. A hybrid baby too. Half vampire. Half werewolf. Like Elizabeth's daughter, Elara. Like so many others now. Common. Accepted. Normal. But still scary. Still unknown. Still complicated.

What if something went wrong? What if the pregnancy was difficult? What if I couldn't protect them? What if I was a terrible mother? What if the baby inherited problems from being mixed?

What if. What if. What if.

And then there was Darian. The father. My mate. The man I'd run from. The man I'd left without explanation. The man who didn't know. Who deserved to know. Who had a right to know.

I'd been so focused on my pain. On protecting myself. On running from complications. I hadn't thought about this. Hadn't considered this possibility. Hadn't planned for this. Now I was here. Alone. Pregnant. Terrified. And he was there. Confused. Hurt. Unaware his child was growing inside me.

What was I supposed to do? I couldn't stay here. Couldn't complete the mission. Couldn't pretend everything was fine. Couldn't hide this. Couldn't make decisions about our baby without him. But I couldn't go back either. Couldn't face him. Couldn't explain. Couldn't deal with Celeste and debts and complications. Not now. Not when everything was already overwhelming.

I lay down on the bed. Curled on my side. Put my hand on my stomach. Felt nothing yet. Too early. Too small. But they were there. Growing. Real. Mine. Ours.

Tears came again. But different this time. Not from emotional instability. From genuine feeling. From fear and joy and confusion and love all mixed together. I was going to be a mother. Was going to have Darian's baby. Was going to raise a child. Whether I was ready or not. Whether I knew how or not. Whether I was still with their father or not.

The bond pulsed. Darian on the other end. Still trying to reach me. Still confused. Still hurt. Still unaware. I should tell him. Should lower the walls. Should let him know. But I couldn't. Not yet. Not until I figured out what to do. Not until I understood what this meant. Not until I could breathe without panic.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'd make decisions. Tomorrow I'd figure out next steps. Tomorrow I'd be brave.

Tonight I just lay here. Let myself feel everything. Let myself be scared. Let myself acknowledge that running hadn't solved anything. Had only created new complications. New consequences. New responsibilities.

My hand stayed on my stomach. Protective. Possessive. Mine. Whatever happened next. Whatever I decided. Whatever mess I'd made. This baby was mine. And I'd protect them. No matter what.