The truth that should not exist
1363 Words
The healer arrived at dawn.
Hannah knew before she even saw her.
The pack was too quiet. Too arranged. Too intentional. Even the air felt like it had been placed carefully, as if the world itself had been instructed not to breathe too loudly. Two guards stood outside her quarters when she stepped out. They weren’t aggressive. Not threatening. Just present. Waiting.
That alone made her stomach tighten.
She stepped forward slowly and saw them.
Kael.
Lucien.
Ronan.
All three of them together.
That was the first warning.
“This is not optional anymore,” Kael said.
Hannah’s jaw tightened immediately. “I already said no.”
Lucien’s voice came next, calm but firm. “And we already said it doesn’t matter.”
The words hit her harder than they should have. Not mattering. Her choice. Her voice. Her refusal. Everything reduced to something irrelevant.
Hannah let out a short, bitter laugh. “So I don’t get a choice in what happens to my body now?”
Ronan flinched slightly. Just a fraction, but she saw it. Kael didn’t react. Lucien didn’t either. But Ronan did. That mattered more than she wanted it to.
Kael’s voice lowered. “This is about safety.”
“Whose safety?” she snapped instantly.
Silence answered her. And that silence said everything.
The healer stepped forward before the moment could stretch further. She was older, her hair streaked with silver, her eyes steady in a way that made Hannah uneasy. Not warm. Not cruel. Just certain. Like she already knew something no one else did.
“Come,” the healer said gently.
Hannah didn’t move. “Say what you think is wrong here.”
A pause stretched between them.
The healer glanced briefly at Kael, then back at Hannah. That small hesitation made Hannah’s chest tighten.
“I need to confirm something first,” the healer said.
“No,” Hannah answered immediately, too quickly, too sharply.
Kael stepped forward slightly. “Let her proceed.”
“I said no,” Hannah repeated, voice rising.
The room went quiet again, heavier this time.
Then the healer spoke once more, slower. “If I am correct… you are already carrying—”
A loud crash outside cut her off.
The sound shattered the moment like glass.
Voices erupted in the distance. Shouting. Movement. Something breaking. The calm inside the room fractured instantly.
The healer stopped speaking.
Hannah turned toward the door. Kael reacted before anyone else, his posture shifting instantly into alertness. Lucien moved closer to the entrance. Ronan followed a beat later, tension tightening his frame.
A moment later, Lucien appeared at the doorway, breathing controlled but sharp-eyed.
“There’s been a breach in the outer boundary.”
Kael’s head snapped toward him. “What?”
Lucien didn’t blink. “It’s heading toward this section.”
The healer took a step back instinctively, as if distance could protect her from whatever truth she had almost spoken. “I will continue later,” she said quickly.
But Kael didn’t move. Neither did Hannah.
Because something inside her had already shifted.
She didn’t care about the breach outside. Not really. Something else was pulling at her, deeper, heavier. A strange sickness twisting in her stomach, sharper than anything she had ever felt before.
Her knees weakened slightly.
Nyra reached for her. “Hannah—”
“I’m fine,” Hannah snapped, pulling away immediately.
But her voice betrayed her. It wasn’t steady. It wasn’t strong. It was thin.
The dizziness hit harder this time. She gripped the edge of the table for balance, breathing unevenly.
Kael noticed instantly. His eyes narrowed. Lucien’s attention shifted fully back to her. Ronan stepped forward without thinking.
Now all three of them were watching her.
Not as an omega.
Not as someone replaceable.
But as something central.
Something they could not ignore.
“Confirm it now,” Kael said suddenly.
The healer hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
Hannah shook her head. “No. I don’t need this.”
But her body betrayed her again. A wave of nausea forced her to stillness. Her breath hitched. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table until her knuckles turned pale.
The healer moved forward slowly and placed her hand near Hannah’s wrist.
The moment she did, everything changed.
Her expression shifted.
Just slightly at first.
Then more sharply.
Her eyes widened, just a fraction, but enough for all of them to notice.
Kael stepped forward. Lucien stiffened. Ronan’s breath caught.
The healer slowly pulled her hand back.
“It’s not illness,” she said quietly.
Silence dropped into the room like a weight.
Hannah froze. “What?”
The healer didn’t look away this time. “It’s a bond consequence… and possibly… a child.”
For a moment, nothing moved.
Kael didn’t blink.
Lucien didn’t speak.
Ronan looked like he had forgotten how to breathe.
Hannah shook her head slowly. “No,” she whispered. “That’s not possible.”
The healer didn’t answer immediately, which made it worse.
Kael finally spoke. “How far?”
“Very early,” the healer said carefully.
Lucien stepped forward. “Confirm again.”
“I already have,” she replied.
Hannah stepped back abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “No. No, this is wrong. It can’t be.”
The healer’s voice stayed calm. “It is not wrong.”
Kael watched her carefully now, as if recalculating everything he thought he knew. Lucien’s expression darkened. Ronan looked away briefly, but not in denial. In something heavier.
Guilt.
Hannah shook her head harder. “This is a mistake.”
But even as she said it, her body knew better. The missed signs. The changes she had ignored. The exhaustion. The nausea. Everything she had refused to name suddenly had a shape.
Her voice cracked. “You said it meant nothing.”
Silence answered again.
That silence was becoming unbearable.
Kael spoke first. “This changes nothing.”
Hannah turned sharply toward him. “What did you just say?”
Lucien intervened quickly. “It changes procedure, not position.”
Her laugh came out broken. “Procedure?”
Ronan finally spoke, quieter than the others. “Hannah…”
“Don’t,” she cut him off instantly.
He stopped.
That small obedience hurt more than she expected.
The healer spoke again, more slowly this time. “There is something unusual.”
All eyes turned to her.
Kael’s voice sharpened. “Explain.”
The healer hesitated again, then said carefully, “The child… carries strong tri-marked energy.”
The words hung in the air, unfamiliar but heavy.
Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “Meaning what?”
“This is not a normal conception,” the healer said.
Hannah’s heart began to pound. “What are you saying?”
The healer looked between all three alphas before answering. “The child is tied to more than one alpha signature.”
Silence.
Then realization.
Kael spoke first, low and dangerous. “All of us.”
The healer didn’t deny it.
Hannah took a step back as if struck. “No,” she whispered. “No, that’s not—”
But the memory came anyway. Fragments. Night. Heat. Confusion. Trust breaking into something she couldn’t name anymore.
Lucien’s voice cut through the tension. “You’re saying it’s possible…”
Kael finished it. “All three of us.”
Hannah pressed a hand to her mouth, shaking now. “That can’t be real.”
But no one disagreed.
No one denied it either.
And that silence told her everything.
Kael’s gaze hardened slightly. “If this is true…”
He paused.
The weight of the next words felt unbearable even before he said them.
“Then this child belongs to all three of us.”
Hannah’s breath stopped.
Her voice came out barely audible. “No…”
But the healer added one final truth, quieter than the rest, and somehow far worse.
“It is not just one child’s life at stake.”
A pause.
Then—
“It is three.”
The room went completely still.
And in that stillness, Hannah realized the truth was not the ending.
It was only the beginning.
- Writer
