Chapter 92 147 Messages
[Nyx]
"Even though you want this baby?" My voice was small.
"Even though." His thumb traced circles on my knee. "It's your body. Your choice. I just wish..." He trailed off, pain flickering across his face. "I wish you'd trusted me enough to tell me before."
"I'm sorry," I said again, tears spilling over. "I should have—"
"Hey." He pulled me against his chest. "It's done. We deal with what's in front of us now." His arms wrapped around me, solid and warm. "I'll take care of you. I promise."
The sincerity in his voice broke something in me. He really meant it. He'd support me even though it was killing him.
---
I sat there after he went to the bathroom to get dressed. Sheet clutched around me. Nineteen years old and possibly pregnant.
Too young, I thought. Too unprepared.
But then I thought about what he'd said. I would have been more careful if you'd told me.
He would have. I knew that. He would have done anything I asked.
And now he was offering to get the pill. To take care of me after. To put my needs above his own wants.
My hand drifted to my stomach. Pressed flat against the uncertainty.
I heard the shower turn on. Pictured him in there, getting ready to go buy something that might end a possibility. Something he desperately didn't want but would do anyway because I asked.
When had anyone ever put me first like that?
Never, my wolf whispered. He's the only one.
My hand stayed on my stomach. Maybe there was nothing there yet. Maybe there was.
But if there was...
Our child.
Not my father's heir. Not a political tool. Not someone who would be raised to compete with Tristan or please Isla.
Just... mine. Ours.
I thought about growing up in that house. Always second. Always fighting for approval that never came.
Any child of mine wouldn't have that. They would be wanted. From day one.
Family, my wolf whispered. Real family. Ours.
And suddenly, it wasn't just about being nineteen and terrified anymore.
It was about the possibility of having someone who was truly mine. Someone I could love without conditions or competition. Someone who would never question whether they were wanted.
Maybe... maybe I didn't have to have all the answers right now. Maybe being nineteen and scared was okay if I was building something real.
"Fuck," I breathed.
When he emerged from the bathroom—dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, car keys already in hand—I was still sitting there.
"Don't get it," I said.
He froze. "What?"
"The pill." My hand was still on my stomach. "Don't get it. If I'm pregnant, I want to keep it."
For a moment, he just stared at me. The keys slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
Then he crossed the room and dropped to his knees in front of me.
"You're sure?" His hands covered mine on my belly, trembling slightly. "Nyx, if you're not ready—"
"I'm not ready." I laughed wetly. "I'm nineteen and scared shitless. But you said we'd figure it out together, right?"
"Right." His voice was rough with emotion.
"Then... together." I threaded my fingers through his. "Whatever happens, we do this together."
He pressed his forehead to our joined hands. I could see his shoulders shaking.
"I've got you," he promised, voice thick. "Whatever comes. However scared you get. I've got you."
"We've got each other," I corrected.
"Yeah." He looked up at me, eyes bright with unshed tears. "We do."
---
Six-thirty in the morning. I woke to pale sunlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows of our west wing villa.
Lysander was still asleep beside me, one arm draped protectively across my waist even in unconsciousness. Two days of heat had left their mark—his normally alert face was slack with exhaustion, dark lashes resting against his cheekbones.
I turned my head to study him. The sharp line of his jaw. The slight furrow between his brows that never quite disappeared, even now. The broad shoulders that carried so much weight—for his pack, for me.
Drained dry, I thought with a flicker of smug satisfaction. The mighty Gamma Captain, completely wiped out.
But the smugness faded quickly, replaced by something softer. Warmer. I reached out, fingertips ghosting over that perpetual crease between his eyebrows.
Relaxed. Because he was with me.
My hand moved to my abdomen without conscious thought. Flat. Unchanged. But maybe...
The phone on the nightstand lit up. I reached for it carefully, trying not to wake him.
147 unread messages.
My heart stuttered. Two days. I'd been completely disconnected from the world for two days while—
A sharp knock at the door made me freeze.
I slipped from Lysander's embrace as quietly as possible, wrapping a robe around myself. When I opened the door, Taran stood in the hallway, his expression more serious than usual.
"Early morning, Miss Nyx." He gave a slight bow. "Alpha Karl requests your and Mr. Crowley's immediate presence at the main house for family breakfast."
"Now?" I glanced at the antique clock in the hallway. "It's six-thirty."
"Yes, Miss. Alpha said there's an urgent matter that requires discussion. Seven forty-five sharp." His voice dropped lower. "All family members are required to attend. No exceptions."
The words settled like ice in my stomach. Karl never called breakfast meetings this early unless—
"I understand. We'll be there."
After Taran left, I leaned against the door frame and looked at my phone again. 147 messages. Eclipse emails. Urgent flags. Market alerts.
And now an emergency family meeting.
I walked back to the bed and gently shook Lysander's shoulder. "Wake up. We need to get ready."
His eyes opened immediately, amber irises still hazed with sleep. His hand caught my wrist on instinct. "What's wrong?"
"My father called an emergency family meeting. Seven forty-five at the main house." I kept my voice steady. "He specifically requested you attend as well."
The sleep cleared from Lysander's eyes in an instant. He sat up, warrior reflexes kicking in. "Emergency meeting? What happened?"
"I don't know." I shook my head. "But Taran emphasized it was urgent. And requiring you to attend is... unusual."
We exchanged a look. The same dark premonition reflected in both our eyes.
The storm was coming.