Chapter 82 Chapter 82
Tiana
“Lie back,” Healer Iris instructed gently.
I did, settling against the cushioned surface and staring at the ceiling while lying on the raised table in the examination room, as her hands moved over my abdomen. Her touch was professional, but I still tensed.
“Relax,” she murmured. “I’m just checking position and development.”
I tried to relax, failing woefully at it.
Her hands stilled over my lower stomach, pressing gently. Then she smiled.
“There,” she said. “Feel that?”
“Feel what?”
“The slight firmness. That’s your uterus expanding to accommodate the pup.” Her smile widened. “Right on schedule.”
“Everything looks good,” Iris continued, moving her hands higher, checking other things I didn’t understand. “No signs of complications. No abnormalities in development.”
Relief flooded through me, unexpected in its intensity. I hadn’t realized I had been holding my breath waiting for bad news.
“The pup is strong,” Iris added, helping me sit up. “Healthy. Developing exactly as expected for eight weeks.”
Eight weeks. Which was approximately a quarter of the way through this pregnancy.
“Is there…” I hesitated, the question catching in my throat. “Is there anything I should be concerned about? Anything that might affect the baby’s development?”
“Like what?”
I couldn’t meet her eyes. “My blood. Being omega. Does that… does that affect anything?”
Iris was quiet for a moment. Then she moved to sit beside me on the table, her expression softening into understanding.
“Luna Tiana,” she said gently. “Your rank has no bearing on the health of your child. Omega, beta, alpha—those distinctions don’t matter in the womb. What matters is that you’re healthy, that you’re taking care of yourself and the pup has what it needs to grow.”
“I’ve delivered hundreds of pups in my years as a healer. Some from alpha mothers, some from omega. And I can tell you with absolute certainty that rank doesn’t determine strength or health or even worth.” She paused. “Your pup is strong because you’re strong.”
The words wrapped around me like a blanket I hadn’t realized I needed.
“The Alpha’s blood is dominant anyway,” Iris continued. “The pup will likely present as alpha regardless of your rank. But even if they don’t, it wouldn’t make them less. You understand that, don’t you?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I believed it. Years of being told I was less, being treated as less, didn’t disappear just because a healer said kind words.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Iris squeezed my hand once before standing. “You’re doing well, Luna. Better than most first-time mothers. Keep taking your supplements, keep eating even when you don’t want to, and rest when your body tells you to rest.”
“I will.”
“Good. I’ll see you again in four weeks for the twelve-week examination. That’s when we can usually detect the heartbeat externally.” Her expression brightened. “You’ll be able to hear your pup for the first time.”
The words made my chest tighten.
“That sounds good,” I managed.
Iris left me alone to dress, closing the door softly behind her.
I sat at the table for a long moment, my hands moving automatically to my stomach. It was still flat and unchanged to the eye.
I slid off the table and crossed to the small mirror hanging on the wall. I studied my reflection hoping to see some visible change. But I looked the same. Just more tired and pale.
I left the examination room and made my way through the corridors toward my chambers.
As soon as I got back inside my chamber, I closed the door and leaned against it, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor with my knees pulled to my chest.
My hand moved to my stomach again. That same unconscious gesture that was becoming a habit.
“Hi,” I whispered to the tiny life inside me. To the cluster of cells that Iris said was strong and healthy, developing perfectly.
My voice cracked on the single syllable.
“I don’t know if you can hear me yet. The books say probably not for a few more weeks. But I wanted to…” I stopped, swallowing hard against the tightness in my throat. “I wanted to talk to you this once.”
The room stayed silent except for my breathing.
“I’m your mother,” I continued. “At least for now. For two years. That’s how long I get to be your mother before I have to leave.”
Saying it out loud made it real in a way that thinking it hadn’t.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry. You didn’t ask for this and I wish things were different.”
“I wish I could stay and watch you grow and see who you become. See if you have your father’s eyes or my smile. If you’re fierce like him or gentle like… like I try to be.”
The tears came without warning. Hot and silent, streaming down my face harshly because I had been holding back for weeks.
“I wish I could teach you things. Show you the library and tell you stories and be there when you shift for the first time.” My voice was barely audible now, broken by sobs. “I wish I could be a real mother to you.”
I pressed both hands against my stomach, like I could somehow hold onto this moment. This connection. This brief time when they were mine and mine alone.
“But I can’t. I can’t stay. And that’s not your fault.” I took a shaky breath. “I just wanted you to know that I already love you. Even though it makes leaving harder. I love you and I’m sorry I won’t be with you for long enough.”
The sobs took over then, shaking my whole body. I had so much worry pent up in my head and there was absolutely no one I could share it with.
The tears rolled down intensely and I cried until my throat was raw and my eyes burned.
“Tiana?”
I looked up through blurry eyes to find Zane standing in the doorway between our chambers. I had not noticed the door opening.
How long had he been there? How much had he heard?
He took a step into the room, and I saw his gaze move from my tear-stained face to my hands still pressed protectively against my stomach.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said quietly. “I heard… I thought something was wrong.”
I couldn’t find my voice to respond. I only stared at him while tears continued to stream silently down my face because this time I could no longer hide it anymore.
He crossed the room slowly, like approaching a wounded animal. Knelt in front of me where I sat crumpled on the floor.
“The appointment,” he said. “Is everything alright? I mean, with the pup.”
I shook my head. “The pup is fine. The healer said so.”
“Then why—” He stopped, his eyes searching my face. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m fine,” I lied. His only concern was the pup, why would he care?
Zane didn’t look convinced. His hand lifted, then settled gently on my shoulder.
“You were talking to the pup,” he said.
I nodded, unable to deny.
“What did you say?”
I was not sure what to say, my eyes rotating from his face to the ground still filled with tears.
“That I’m sorry.“ I replied.