Chapter 62 The Weight of a Miracle

Chapter 62 The Weight of a Miracle
THIRD PERSON'S POV 

Tabitha stayed bent over the shrubs for what felt like forever, her body heaving even after her stomach had emptied itself. The sour taste of bile clung to her tongue, and her knees pressed into the damp earth. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, breathing hard. The world spun a little, like someone had tilted the ground.

“Tabitha!” Damon was right behind her in seconds. His hand rested gently on her back, warm and steady. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

She tried to smile, but it came out shaky. “Must have eaten something bad. I’m fine now.” Her voice sounded weak even to her own ears. She pushed herself up, ignoring the way her head throbbed. Damon hovered close, ready to catch her if she wobbled.

“You don’t look fine,” he muttered, worry creasing his brow. He brushed dirt from her uniform, his touch careful. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

But Tabitha shook her head. “Matron will have my head if I slack off. There’s lunch to serve.” She picked up her forgotten basket, dusted it off, and headed back toward the warehouse on unsteady legs. Damon watched her go, jaw tight, but he didn’t push. Not yet.

The rest of the morning dragged on slowly. Tabitha chopped vegetables in the kitchen, but every few minutes a fresh wave of dizziness would hit her. The knife felt slippery in her grip. She threw up twice more again…once behind the tool shed and again near the back door. Each time rinsing her mouth quickly with water from the pump and hoping no one notices. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She was never sick like this. Never.

By the time the visitors rrived for lunch, sweat dotted her forehead despite the cool air. She carried heavy trays of roasted meat and bread into the dining hall, forcing a polite smile whenever someone glanced her way. The smell of the food turned her stomach. Her hands trembled as she set down a platter of stew. One of the betas laughed loudly at a joke, and the sound punched through her skull like a hammer.

Halfway through serving, the room tilted hard. Tabitha gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. Bile rose again. She swallowed it down, but her face must have gone pale because the matron’s sharp eyes locked onto her from across the room.

“Girl, sometimes I can't understand what's always worrying you. One minute you're hyperactive next minute you're acting like you want to pass out r,” the matron barked, marching over. She snatched the tray from Tabitha’s hands. “You’re going to ruin the meal for everyone if you keep swaying like that. Go. Rest. Now. I won’t have you spreading whatever sickness you’ve caught.”

Tabitha opened her mouth to argue. “Matron, I can finish…”

“No.” The older woman’s tone left no room for debate. “That’s an order. And stay away from the kitchens until you’re not sick anymore.”

Defeated, Tabitha nodded and slipped out. Her small room in the servants’ quarters felt too far away. Every step made her dizzy. She barely made it inside before another round of vomiting hit her. She curled up on her thin mattress afterward, pulling the blanket over her shoulders. Her mind raced. What was happening to her? 

A soft knock came at the door not long after. Damon stepped in without waiting, his face etched with concern. He’d changed into a simple outfit m, but he still carried that commanding presence.

“Shouldn't you be with the visitors?” Tabitha asked weakly. He ignored her question.

“You’re burning up,” he said, pressing a cool hand to her forehead. “This isn’t nothing, Tabitha. I’m getting a doctor.”

She sat up too fast and regretted it instantly as the room spun. “No, Damon. Please. It’s just a stomach thing. I’ll be fine by tomorrow. If people see the future Alpha calling a doctor for a maid…” She trailed off, biting her lip. 

He knelt beside the bed, taking her hand. His stormy eyes softened the way they always did for her. “I don’t care what they think. You’re my mate. Let me take care of you.”

Tabitha argued for nearly twenty minutes…pleading, bargaining, even trying to joke that she’d probably just eaten bad carrots. Damon refused to budge. In the end, exhaustion won. She gave a tiny nod, and he kissed her forehead before slipping out.

The doctor arrived within the hour, an older man with kind eyes and a leather bag full of strange tools. Two servants carried in extra lamps and a small table. Tabitha watched everything with wide, curious eyes from her bed. She’d never had a proper doctor check her before. The man asked gentle questions…when the sickness started, what she’d eaten, if anything hurt. He checked her pulse, listened to her breathing, and took a small vial of blood from her arm. She winced at the prick but stayed quiet.

Damon stood by the door like a guard, arms crossed, never taking his eyes off her. Every time she glanced at him, he gave her a small encouraging smile that made her feel a bit better.

The tests took time. The doctor mixed drops of her blood with different liquids, peered through a thick glass lens, and wrote notes in a worn book. Tabitha’s stomach still felt uneasy, but the dizziness had eased a bit. She kept wondering what he’d find. 

Finally, the doctor straightened. His face changed. His eyebrows lifting, mouth pressing into a thin line. He looked surprised, almost cautious. Instead of turning to Tabitha, he faced Damon directly.

“Sir,” he said quietly, voice steady but carrying weight. “She’s pregnant.”

The words hung in the small room like smoke.

Tabitha blinked, sure she’d heard wrong. “What?” Her voice came out small. She pushed herself up on her elbows, heart hammering suddenly. “Pregnant?”

The doctor glanced at her then, offering a gentle nod. “Yes, miss. Early stages, but the signs are clear. The sickness is common in the first weeks. It should pass in time.”

Damon stood frozen for a beat, his expression shifting from worry to shock, then a fierce. He crossed the room in two strides and dropped beside her bed again, taking both her hands.

“Tabitha…” He breathed her name like a prayer. A slow smile broke across his lips, the kind that reached his eyes and made them shine. “We’re having a pup.”

It was barely a month since they secretly started their affair and she was already pregnant?

She stared at him, mouth open,  surprised he's not worried about the reality of this.

Fear  tangled inside her chest. She was a servant. How could she bring an alpha's child into this world? But then Damon’s thumb brushed over her knuckles, warm and real, and some of the panic eased.

“I… I didn’t know,” she whispered, tears pricking her eyes. A shaky laugh escaped her.

The doctor cleared his throat politely. “I’ll leave some herbs for the nausea. Rest plenty, eat small meals, and stay hydrated. I’ll check on you again soon.” He gathered his things and slipped out, giving them privacy.

Alone now, Damon pulled her into his arms carefully, as if she might break. His hand settled low on her stomach, almost reverent. “You scared me today,” he admitted against her hair. “I thought something was really wrong. But this… this is everything.”

Tabitha leaned into him, breathing in his familiar scent. The dizziness had faded. She felt a bit better but she could still feel herself panicking.

“I'm not keeping this child Damon.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop herself.