Congratulations
1435 Words
"What is the meaning of this?!"
The roar shattered the chaos in the room.
Esther and Sarah flinched as if struck, their malicious glee instantly evaporating. They spun around to find Alpha Adrian standing in the doorway, his silhouette blocking out the light from the corridor. His face was a mask of thunderous fury.
"Alpha!" Sarah squeaked, dropping to her knees so fast her bones cracked against the floor. Esther followed suit, pressing her forehead to the carpet.
"You called the guards?" Adrian’s voice was dangerously low, vibrating with the kind of power that made the air thin. "To my wife’s bathroom?"
The guards, who had been hovering uncertainly at the threshold, immediately took a step back, their faces draining of color. They knew better. Even rejected, even despised, the Luna was Blackthorne property. For a male guard to see her naked was a breach of protocol so severe it often ended in execution.
"We... we didn't think, Alpha," Sarah stammered, her voice trembling. "The Luna was hurt. The water... I slipped. It was an accident! We just needed help to carry her!"
"You needed help?" Adrian stepped into the room, his eyes sweeping over the scene—the overturned pitcher, the steam still rising from the floor, and the maids cowering on the ground. "Or you needed an audience?"
"No! Never, Alpha!" Esther cried, tears streaming down her face now. "Please, forgive us! We were panicked!"
They begged him. They looked at his boots, pleading for mercy from the man who held their lives in his hands, completely ignoring the woman sobbing in the tub a few feet away.
"Get out," Adrian snarled at the guards. "Fetch the Healer. Now."
The guards didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled backward, disappearing down the hall, likely thanking the Moon Goddess they hadn't crossed the threshold.
"And you two," Adrian said, looking down at the maids with cold disgust. "Get out of my sight. If I find out this was anything other than clumsiness, you will be on the next transport to the mines."
Sarah and Esther scrambled up, bowing repeatedly as they backed out of the room, their apologies spilling over each other in a desperate rush.
Once the door clicked shut, silence descended.
Adrian didn't move for a moment. He took a breath, steeling himself, before walking into the bathroom.
The air was thick with steam and the scent of lavender soap mixed with the sharp tang of burned skin. Mara was curled in the far corner of the massive tub, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around herself in a futile attempt to hide. Her skin was a terrifying shade of angry red across her shoulders and décolletage.
"No..." she whimpered, her eyes squeezed shut. "Don't look. Get out."
"It's me," Adrian said.
His voice wasn't gentle, but it wasn't the bark of command he used with the guards either. It was flat. Resigned.
Mara’s eyes flew open. She looked at him through wet lashes, her chest heaving with shallow breaths. "Why are you here?"
"I heard the screaming," he said simply. He reached for a large, fluffy towel from the rack. "And this is still my suite."
He approached the tub. Mara flinched, shrinking back, but Adrian didn't hesitate. He reached into the water, his hands strong and impersonal, and lifted her out as easily as if she weighed nothing.
Water cascaded off her body, pooling on the tiles. For a second, she was exposed—the angry burns, the bruises on her soul, the mark on her neck that still looked raw. Adrian didn't linger. He wrapped the towel around her quickly, tucking it securely to cover her from neck to knee.
He carried her into the bedroom and set her down gently on the edge of the mattress.
"Sit," he ordered, walking to the wardrobe to pull out a silk robe. "The Healer is coming."
Mara clutched the towel, shivering uncontrollably. The pain was a dull roar now, a constant throb that matched the beating of her heart. But the shame was sharper. He had saved her, yes. But he had done it with the efficiency of a man saving a piece of expensive furniture from a fire.
"They did it on purpose," Mara whispered, her teeth chattering.
Adrian paused, the robe in his hand. He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Be careful with accusations, Mara."
"They hate me because you hate me," she said, looking him in the eye. "They think I'm fair game."
"I don't hate you," Adrian said, though the words lacked conviction. "I am indifferent to you. There is a difference."
"Not to them," she countered bitterly.
A knock at the door interrupted them. The Healer, a young woman named Sera with kind eyes and a bag full of jars, hurried in. Sarah and Esther hovered behind her, looking pale and terrified, likely dragged back by duty or fear of further punishment.
"Alpha," Sera bowed quickly, then rushed to Mara’s side. "Let me see, Luna."
Sera worked quickly, her hands cool and gentle as she applied a thick, green salve to the burns. The relief was instant. The fire in Mara’s skin cooled to a dull ache.
"It looks worse than it is," Sera reassured her. "Shifter healing will take care of most of it by tomorrow, but you must keep this ointment on to prevent scarring."
Behind her, Sarah and Esther knelt again.
"Alpha, please forgive us," Sarah wept. "We are so sorry."
Adrian didn't look at them. He looked at Mara. "Are you apologizing to the floorboards, or to the woman you scalded?"
Sarah froze. She slowly turned her head toward Mara. The hatred in her eyes was gone, replaced by fear, but Mara saw the resentment lurking underneath.
"Luna," Sarah said, the word tasting sour in her mouth. "I am sorry. I was clumsy."
"Yes," Mara said, her voice icy. "It is very easy to mistake a pitcher of boiling water for a pitcher of warm water. A common mistake."
She didn't offer forgiveness. She didn't tell them to rise. She simply stared at them until they looked away.
"Leave us," Adrian commanded.
The maids fled.
Sera finished bandaging Mara’s shoulder. She wiped her hands on a cloth, her brow furrowed in concentration. She leaned in closer, sniffing the air near Mara’s neck, then moved her hand to hover over Mara’s abdomen.
"Is something wrong?" Mara asked, panic flaring again. "Is the burn infected?"
"No," Sera said slowly. She looked up, her eyes wide, a sudden smile breaking across her face. "No, Luna. The burns are fine."
She turned to Adrian, who was pouring himself a drink by the fireplace.
"Alpha!" Sera beamed, her voice full of genuine delight. "Congratulations!"
Adrian froze, the glass halfway to his mouth. He turned slowly. "Congratulations for what?"
Mara’s heart stopped. She looked at the Healer, dread pooling in her stomach.
"The Luna is pregnant!" Sera announced, clasping her hands together. "You are going to be a father!"
The silence that followed was not the silence of joy. It was the silence of a tomb.
Adrian stared at Mara. His face went completely white. The glass in his hand shattered, the crystal shards raining down onto the floor, amber liquid spreading like a dark stain across the rug.
He didn't look happy. He looked horrified.
"Pregnant?" he whispered, the word sounding like a curse.
Mara placed a hand over her flat stomach. She felt nothing. No flutter. No spark. Just the cold realization that the one thing that should have saved her—an heir—might be the thing that finally destroyed her.
"Yes," Sera continued, oblivious to the tension suffocating the room. "It’s very early, but the scent is unmistakable. A strong pup. An heir for the Blackthorne pack!"
Adrian looked at Mara. His eyes were dark, unreadable pits.
"Leave us," he said to the Healer.
Sera’s smile faltered. She looked between the two of them, sensing the wrongness in the air. "Alpha? Is there..."
"GET OUT!" Adrian roared.
Sera grabbed her bag and ran.
The door slammed shut, leaving Mara alone with the man who had rejected her, the man who wanted nothing to do with her, and the secret growing inside her that bound them together forever.
Adrian walked toward her. He stopped at the foot of the bed, looking down at her like she was a puzzle he couldn't solve.
"You're pregnant," he said flatly.
"It seems so," Mara whispered.
"This..." He ran a hand through his hair, laughing a dark, manic laugh. "This complicates everything."
- Writer
