Chapter 96 The Milk
Maureen Laskovic:
“Listen to me!” Cassian shouted, struggling against the guards’ hold. “All of you! Yes, I hate Vuk! I despise him! But rape? I would never lower myself to touch her! I do not even fancy her! Ask your next question!”
The Hall fell into a tense silence.
His words were loud.
Desperate.
Ugly.
I did not flinch.
“Guards,” I said evenly, without taking my eyes off him. “Take her away.”
Celeste trembled as the guards gently guided her out of the Hall. She did not resist. She did not look at him.
Cassian tried to follow her with his gaze, but the guards tightened their grip on his arms.
Then I turned to him fully.
“And lock him in the lower cells,” I added.
His expression shifted then — not anger this time.
Shock.
“You cannot—”
“I can,” I cut in coldly. “And I will.”
He opened his mouth again, but the guards dragged him back before he could finish. His boots scraped loudly against the marble floor as he was pulled away.
His punishment would come.
Soon.
The doors slammed shut behind him.
The Hall felt heavy.
I looked at the elders.
“This session is dismissed.”
No one argued.
One by one, they rose and left, whispering in low tones.
When the room finally emptied, I stood there alone for a moment.
My hands were trembling again.
Not from weakness.
From everything pressing down at once.
I forced myself to move.
I went to the guest chamber where Celeste had been taken.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders shaking, her face buried in her hands. When she saw me, she immediately slid off the bed and fell to her knees.
“My lady… I am so sorry,” she cried. “I never meant to bring shame into your home. I should have told you sooner. I should have—”
“No.” I moved quickly and pulled her up. “You will not blame yourself.”
She collapsed into me, sobbing.
I wrapped my arms around her tightly.
“It’s over,” I murmured. “You are safe now.”
She clung to me like someone afraid of drowning.
Guilt twisted in my chest.
I should have seen it sooner.
I should have protected her sooner.
I pulled back slightly and brushed the hair from her face.
“Rest,” I told her gently. “No one will harm you again.”
I turned toward the door.
“Livia.”
Livia stepped forward at once.
“Stay with her,” I instructed softly. “Do not leave her alone.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Celeste’s fingers tightened around mine before I gently freed myself.
I forced a small reassuring smile.
Then I left.
By the time I reached my chambers, my head was pounding.
The noise. The shouting. The betrayal. The weight of it all.
I closed the door behind me and leaned against it for a moment.
Silence.
At last.
I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to ease the ache spreading through my skull.
Today had torn something open in this pack.
And tomorrow—
There would be consequences.
_ _
I do not remember when I fell asleep.
Only that exhaustion dragged me under.
When I woke, it was still dark outside. The room was quiet. Too quiet.
But something felt… wrong.
I frowned slightly.
There was a strange heaviness in my chest. A tightness. Not pain exactly — just pressure.
I shifted in the bed.
And the sensation sharpened.
My breath caught.
My nipples felt hard. Sensitive. Almost aching.
Heat spread slowly across my breasts, deep and throbbing, like something inside me was waking up.
“What…” I whispered to the empty room.
I sat up slowly.
The pressure increased.
A strange, almost pulling sensation.
Instinctive.
Needy.
My heart began to beat faster.
I pressed a hand cautiously over my chest — and froze.
They felt fuller.
Heavier.
Swollen.
Panic flickered through me.
I threw the blankets aside and rushed toward the bathing chamber, my steps uneven.
Maybe I was imagining it.
Maybe it was just stress.
I untied my nightdress with trembling fingers.
And then I saw it.
A faint dampness against the fabric.
I stared.
No.
No.
My breath grew shallow.
I stepped closer to the mirror.
My breasts were undeniably fuller than they had been yesterday. The skin tight, flushed faintly pink from pressure.
And then—
A bead of milk welled at the tip of my nipple.
I stopped breathing.
It slid slowly down.
Warm.
White.
Real.
My entire body went cold.
Milk.
I stumbled back slightly, gripping the edge of the marble basin.
“This is not possible,” I whispered.
I have never—
I was never—
My mind scrambled.
I felt dizzy.
More milk leaked, soaking lightly down my skin.
And the strangest thing?
Alongside the shock…
There was an ache.
Not physical.
Something deeper.
An overwhelming, almost painful sense of longing.
Like something small and hungry should be here.
Like arms should be full.
Like a mouth should be nursing.
My knees nearly gave out.
I gripped the basin harder.
“What is happening to me?”
My wolf stirred faintly inside my chest — restless.
I forced myself to breathe.
Think.
Stress can do strange things. Illness. Hormones.
Yes.
That must be it.
I turned on the bath water with shaking hands, stepping under it quickly as if I could wash away what I had just seen.
But even as warm water ran down my body—
More milk slipped free.
And the ache deepened.
By the time I finished bathing, my thoughts were racing.
I dressed quickly, layering thicker fabric beneath my gown, trying to hide the dampness spreading across my chest.
This was not normal.
This was not stress.
This was—
No.
I refused to finish that thought.
I opened my chamber doors.
“Summon the pack doctor,” I ordered the nearest guard.
My voice sounded steady.
Too steady.
“Immediately.”
\---
He arrived quickly.
The pack doctor bowed and took a seat across from me while Livia hovered near the doorway.
“My lady,” he said gently. “What seems to be the matter?”
I folded my hands in my lap to hide their trembling.
“My body is producing milk,” I said plainly. “And I am not a nursing mother.”
Silence.
The doctor blinked once, clearly startled.
“Are you certain?” he asked carefully.
I gave him a look.
“Quite.”
He cleared his throat. “If you would permit me, my lady… we must confirm.”
He hesitated. “If you could express some into a cup.”
My cheeks burned, but I nodded once.
“Someone,” I called.
A maid was summoned at once. She returned with a small silver cup and placed it beside me before lowering her head and stepping back.
I dismissed everyone except the doctor and Livia.
With controlled movements, I stepped behind the privacy screen.
My hands shook as I pressed gently.
It did not take effort.
Milk flowed easily into the cup.
Warm.
White.
Real.
I swallowed hard and stepped back out, handing the cup to the doctor.
He examined it closely.
Then, to my shock, he dipped just the tip of his finger into it and tasted it lightly.
His brows drew together.
He looked at me.
Then back at the milk.
“My lady… this is breast milk.”
“I am aware,” I snapped. “The question is why.”
He inhaled slowly.
“If you have not recently given birth…” he began cautiously, “then this suggests your body believes it has.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” he said carefully, “that hormonally… physically… your body is reacting as if infants require feeding.”
A chill slid down my spine.
“Like your babies need food,” he finished softly.
“That is impossible,” I said immediately. “I have no children.”
Before he could respond, the chamber doors flew open.
“My lady!”
Livia rushed inside, breathless.
“My lady, are you well?”
“Yes, Livia,” I said tightly. “Except my body has decided to behave as though I am nursing.”
Livia froze.
I watched her face carefully.
Shock did not appear.
Horror did not appear.
Inste
ad—
Recognition.
“Oh… Moon Goddess…” she whispered.
The tone was not fear.
It was realization.
As if something she had long suspected had just confirmed itself.
My heart began to pound.
“Livia,” I said slowly, rising to my feet. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
She swallowed.
“My lady… perhaps… perhaps this is not an illness.”
The room felt suddenly smaller.
“What are you implying?”
Livia’s eyes softened — not with pity.
With certainty.
“My lady,” she said quietly, “your body would not call for milk unless it once had something to feed.”