Chapter 63: An Alpha’s Burden, A Servant’s Choice

3RD PERSON'S POV

Damon froze, his hand still resting gently on Tabitha’s stomach. The warmth that had filled his eyes only seconds ago drained away, replaced by  shock. He pulled back just enough to look at her face, searching for any sign that she was joking or that the words had come out wrong. But Tabitha’s expression was determined.

“What?” His voice cracked. “Tabitha… what did you just say?”

She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. The small room felt even smaller now, the air thick between them. “I’m not keeping this child, Damon.”

He recoiled like she had slapped him. For a long moment, he just stared at her, his stormy eyes wide with confusion and a growing worry that carved deep lines into his forehead. He shook his head slowly, as if trying to shake the words out of his ears.

“Why?” he finally managed, his voice low and rough. “Why would you say that? This is our pup, Tabitha. Ours. I thought… I thought you’d be scared, yeah, but this?” He gestured helplessly between them. “We made this together. After everything…”

Tabitha sat up straighter on the thin mattress, ignoring the way her head still swam a little. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them back. She couldn’t let herself soften now. If she did, she would break.

“Because this isn’t some fairytale, Damon,” she whispered fiercely. “I’m a servant. A maid. I scrub floors and serve food. The matron barely tolerates me on good days. How do you think she’ll react when I start showing? Even if she lets me keep working…and that’s a big if…she’ll watch me like a hawk. And when this baby comes… what then? I can’t raise an Alpha’s child in the servants’ quarters. I don’t even have a proper bed.”

Damon reached for her hands again, but she pulled them away, tucking them under the blanket. Hurt flashed across his face.

“I’ll protect you,” he said, the words coming out strong and sure. “Both of you. I won’t let anything happen. You’re my mate. This changes everything. I’ll talk to my father, I’ll…”

“Your father?” Tabitha let out a bitter laugh that turned into a shaky cough. “Your father will have my head, Damon. You’re engaged. Everyone knows it. The whole pack is waiting for the big wedding. If they find out you got a maid pregnant while your fiancée is still parading around with your ring… they won’t blame you. They’ll blame me. The greedy little servant who seduced the future Alpha. Your dad will punish me to make an example. Maybe send me away. Or worse.”

She pressed a hand to her own stomach without thinking, then snatched it away like it burned. “I won’t bring a child into that kind of danger. I can’t.”

Damon knelt there beside the bed, his broad shoulders tense. He ran a hand through his dark hair, tugging at it in frustration. “I don’t care about the engagement. It was never real to me. You’re the one I want. We’ll figure this out. I can move you somewhere safe. I have resources, Tabitha. People who are loyal to me, not just my father. Please… don’t do this.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and it nearly undid her. She could see the fear in his eyes now—the real fear that he might lose her and this tiny life they had accidentally created. Part of her wanted to fall into his arms and let him carry all the worry. But the other part, the part that had survived years in the servants’ quarters, knew better.

“No,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “Stop checking on me, Damon. Stay away for a while. People are already whispering. If you keep coming here, it’ll only make things worse. I mean it. Don’t try to change my mind. I’ve decided. I’m going to… take care of it.”

The words tasted like ash in her mouth. Damon looked like she had driven a knife into his chest. He opened his mouth to argue again, but something in her eyes must have stopped him. He stood up slowly, his fists clenched at his sides.

“I love you,” he said quietly, the words heavy with pain. “That doesn’t just disappear because things get hard. I’ll give you time, but I’m not giving up on us. On this.” He glanced at her stomach one last time before turning and walking out, closing the door softly behind him.

Tabitha waited until his footsteps faded before she let the tears come. She curled into a tight ball under the blanket, sobbing until her body ached. Pregnant. A pup. The word felt both terrifying and strangely tender. But tenderness was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

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The next morning came too soon. Tabitha dragged herself out of bed before dawn, her body still heavy with exhaustion. She found some herbs the doctor had left and mixed a small dose with water, forcing it down even though it tasted bitter. It helped settle her stomach enough that she didn’t throw up right away. She washed her face with cold water, pinched her cheeks to bring back some color, and pulled on her uniform.

She moved through her chores like a ghost. The usual bounce in her step was gone. When she swept the courtyard, her broom moved in slow, mechanical strokes. In the kitchen, she chopped vegetables without her usual chatter, eyes distant. The other servants noticed. Someone offered her extra bread, thinking she was still sick. She just shook her head and kept working.

Matron watched her all morning, sharp eyes narrowing every time Tabitha passed by. During the midday break, the older woman cornered her near the washroom.

“Girl, what on earth has gotten into you?” Matron demanded, hands on her wide hips. “Yesterday you were half-dead and swaying like a drunk. Today you’re moving, but you look like someone died. You’ve been moping around like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. Spill it. Is it a boy? Family trouble back home? I can’t have you infecting the others with whatever sadness this is.”

Tabitha forced a weak smile. “Just tired, Matron. The sickness took a lot out of me. I’ll be fine.”

Matron didn’t look convinced. She clicked her tongue. “You young ones and your secrets. Fine. But if you start slowing down again, I’ll put you on laundry duty for a month. That’ll wake you up.”

Tabitha nodded and slipped away before more questions came. Inside, her chest felt tight. Every time she moved, she was aware of the small life growing inside her. It made her angry and sad all at once. She didn’t want to feel attached. She couldn’t.

Damon tried everything that day.

First, he sent a small basket of fresh fruits to the kitchen with a note tucked inside only she would understand—“Eat. For strength.” She gave the basket to another maid and ignored the note.

Later, during the afternoon when servants had a short break, he appeared at the edge of the garden, pretending to inspect something. His eyes found her immediately. He mouthed her name, but she turned away, focusing hard on hanging wet sheets on the line. Her hands trembled as she pinned the fabric.

By evening, he grew bolder. He caught her alone near the tool shed as she was putting away baskets. “Tabitha, please. Just talk to me for five minutes.”

She kept her back to him. “I told you not to come. Go back to your visitors, future Alpha. This isn’t your place.”

“Dammit, it is my place. You’re my place.” His voice was low, urgent. He stepped closer but didn’t touch her. “I stayed up all night thinking. We can leave. I have allies in the northern territories. They’d shelter us. Or I can challenge the engagement formally. It’ll be messy, but I’ll do it. For you. For our pup.”

Tabitha spun around, eyes flashing. “And then what? Your father declares you a traitor? The pack splits? I become the girl who ruined everything? No. I won’t be responsible for that. I won’t bring a child into a world where it’ll be hated before it even takes its first breath.”

She stepped past him, shoulders stiff. “Leave me alone, Damon. Please. If you care about me at all, respect what I said.”

He didn’t follow her this time, but she felt his gaze burning into her back until she rounded the corner. Her heart ached worse than the morning sickness ever had. Part of her wished he would fight harder, and another part was grateful he was finally listening.

That night, back in her tiny room, Tabitha sat on the edge of her mattress with her hands folded in her lap. The herbs had kept the nausea at bay, but nothing could touch the hollow feeling inside her chest. She whispered to the quiet room, “I’m sorry,” though she wasn’t sure if she was talking to the baby, to Damon, or to herself.

Outside, the moon hung full and bright over the estate. Somewhere in the main house, Damon probably paced his room, mind racing with plans she refused to hear. Tabitha lay down and pulled the thin blanket over her shoulders, eyes wide open in the dark.

Tomorrow she would find a way to end this quietly. She had to. But as sleep finally pulled her under, her hand drifted unconsciously to rest low on her belly, just for a moment.