Chapter 78 TRUST
Adam's POV
I woke up to a sharp, clean smell burning in a way that made my nose sting even before my eyes opened.
Something cool hovered too close to my face, and when I shifted, it slipped away. I heard soft fabric land on wood. I blinked a few times, the world slow to come back, light dull and fuzzy, like I was underwater.
“What is that?” I asked, my voice thin, unfamiliar to my own ears.
“It’s spirit,” the physician said.
I frowned and squinted at her. “Spirit?”
She sighed, picked up the white cloth from the table beside the bed, folded it neatly. “Alcohol. Your Alpha was getting worried. I had to wake you up.”
“Oh,” I said. Then, because my head felt too light for my body, because everything felt wrong in a quiet way that scared me more than pain, I asked, “Why am I getting so weak? Why would getting hit by a football knock me out?”
She chuckled. Like actually chuckled. “So many questions, you won't talk to your Alpha first?”
I turned my head slowly toward Kael, who was sitting on a chair right beside the bed, so close his knee was almost touching the frame. He looked like he hadn’t moved in hours. His hands were clenched together, forearms tight, shoulders drawn inward like he was bracing against something invisible.
“That’s the first time I’ve heard her chuckle,” I told him. “She’s always so serious and scary.”
“Thank you,” the physician said dryly.
I smiled a little, then leaned into Kael without really thinking about it. The moment my head touched his chest, his hand came up, fingers threading gently through my hair, slow and careful like I might disappear if he moved too fast.
“Why won’t you speak?” I asked softly.
The physician answered for him. “He’s been having a panic attack because you wouldn’t open your eyes. He can’t find his words.”
Kael let out a heavy breath at that, like the sound had been trapped in his lungs all this time. He pulled me closer, his face dipping into my hair, breathing me in like he needed proof I was real.
“I’m okay,” I said quickly, because the tightness in his arms made my chest ache. “You should be used to my blackout episodes by now.”
I shifted, gently freeing myself enough to lift my hands. I held his face, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. His skin was warm. Too warm. Like he’d been burning with worry.
He leaned into my touch immediately.
My heart did something stupid and soft.
“I’m fine,” I said again, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “I promise.”
He nodded, just once, and kissed my palm like I was the most precious thing he owned.
“Enough,” the physician said. “Stop kissing and smooching in my chamber. You should get going.”
I huffed. “You didn’t answer my question. Why am I now weak enough to get knocked out by a football?”
“It’s not the ball,” she said. “You’re stressed. Relax more. Right now your body is heavily adjusting to accommodate your pup. There’s almost nothing supporting you. Everything in you is supporting your baby. Eat well too, please. No matter how upset you are, eat. You have iron deficiency.”
I swallowed.
She continued, calm and maddeningly steady. “I have nothing to say about your constant nosebleeds yet. It seems to be occurring due to something we’ll talk about when I’m more sure. For now, don’t be stubborn. Don’t stress your body. Or your mind. If your mind is sick, your body will be sick too. You're pregnant, please consider how much change your body is going through and eat well. Rest well. And sleep close to your Alpha, his scent helps and his pheromones work better than medicine.”
I nodded because my throat felt too tight to speak.
Pregnant.
I am, in fact, pregnant.
Not in theory. Not as a word people danced around. Not as something I could pretend was temporary or unreal.
It was happening. Inside me. Right now.
I turned my head toward Kael. “Let’s go to our chamber.”
He hummed softly and stood immediately. He reached for me, arms already positioning like he planned to lift me, and I shook my head. “I can walk.”
The physician cleared her throat, as if saying “what did I just tell you?”
“You can support me,” I added quickly. “But I can walk.”
Kael didn’t argue. He slid an arm around my waist, steady and firm, and helped me to my feet without a word.
The moment we stepped into the hall, I saw Sara.
She was pacing back and forth like a caged animal, hands twisting together. The second she saw us, her face crumpled with relief and she rushed forward.
Kael moved instantly, stepping in front of me, one arm out.
She stopped short, eyes wide. “Please—I was just—”
He hesitated, then stepped aside when he saw the tears in her eyes.
She wrapped her arms around me tightly.
I froze.
Her embrace was desperate, shaking, full of fear that didn’t belong to me. I didn’t hug her back, but I didn’t push her away either.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pulling back just enough to look at my face. “I was so scared. I thought—”
“It’s okay,” I said, because that’s what I always say when I don’t know what else to say. “I’m fine. You can rest your mind now.”
She nodded, eyes shining, and hugged me again before stepping back. She bowed deeply to Kael, then walked away slowly, like she was afraid to turn her back on us.
I barely had time to process that before Kael scooped me up.
One second my feet were on the ground, the next I was cradled against his chest, his arms solid beneath my knees and back.
“Kael—” I started.
“No,” he said quietly, and kept walking.
He carried me all the way to our chamber and lowered me onto the bed with painful gentleness. Then he turned and left without saying a word.
He came back later with a tray of food.
“Eat,” he said softly.
“I can—”
“Eat,” he repeated, and fed me himself.
After, he carried me to the bath, washed me like I was something fragile and precious, and dressed me in clean clothes. His hands lingered over my stomach too often, too gently, like he was memorizing it.
When he finally spoke again, his voice was quiet and the words came out weirdly slowly. “Everything will be okay.”
I looked at him. The way his eyes never left my face. The way his hands shook just a little when he thought I wasn’t watching. At the way he moved like someone already building a future around me, one careful step at a time.
“You asked me if I wanted to get rid of it,” I said slowly. “And I said I needed time to think.”
He stiffened.
“I have an answer now. No.”
He turned to me fully, eyes wide. “What— what?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t want to get rid of it.”
His mouth opened… then closed.
“I want to keep it,” I said, heart pounding. “I want to have your baby.”
He tried to speak again and failed.
I cupped his face, nodded once, steadying myself. “I’m still scared. I don’t know how or if I’ll get through being pregnant. But I want to try. For you. I trust you to always be here to make it easier.”
He made a broken sound, a failed attempt at forming a proper word, and I kissed him before he could fall apart completely.
When I pulled back, I hugged him and let him bury his face in my neck.
“Tha— thank you,” he whispered.
“I love you,” I said.