Pregnant and Rejected

The Plan

After a few days of me wallowing in my own misery, Marcus came to visit.

The air in the room was thick with unspoken words as he pulled up a chair next to my bed.

His face was drawn, his usual calm now laced with a sense of urgency.

Selene hovered by the door, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, a storm of emotions swirling in her eyes.

“Amelia,” Marcus began, his voice softer than I expected. “I’ve spoken with your father.”

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. My father. A man I had spent years imagining, wondering if he cared, if he even thought of me as anything more than a bargaining tool. The father I had never truly known, who carried the weight of a kingdom and a legacy that now loomed over me.

I swallowed hard. “And?” My voice came out weak, my fear slipping through.

Marcus’s expression softened, a rare glimpse of vulnerability in his otherwise stoic demeanour. "He wants you to go home."

"what?" I quickly pushed myself up "No I can't go home, he is angry with me because I disobeyed him."

“He’s not angry with you,” he said gently. “Far from it. He’s worried—about you, about the baby. He wants to protect you, Amelia. Both of you.”

The knot in my chest tightened. “Protect me? From what? From Armand? The vampires?” My voice cracked, and I felt Selene’s hand settle lightly on my shoulder, grounding me.

“From everything,” Marcus replied firmly. “Your father believes the safest place for you and the child is with him, within the walls of the Lycan stronghold. His forces are strong, and his warriors loyal. No one would dare challenge his protection especially vampires.”

I sat back, my mind reeling. The idea of leaving felt like tearing myself apart. Selene’s presence had been my anchor through the storm. And yet, the thought of my child being safe—a safety I could not guarantee here—was an argument I couldn’t deny.

“But… my father…” I hesitated. “I’ve defied him in so many ways. What if… what if he resents me?”

Marcus shook his head. “He doesn’t. If anything, he regrets the time lost with you. He sees this as a chance to make things right. And more than that, he sees the value of his grandchild. He knows what this baby could mean—not just for you but for our kind.”

My hand instinctively moved to my stomach. The baby. The child who carried both my blood and my mate’s. I wanted to argue, to stay, but deep down, I knew the truth. Staying here put us all at risk, and I couldn’t bear the thought of endangering Selene or Marcus—or worse, my child.

Selene knelt beside me, her hand slipping into mine. “Amelia,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “This is the right choice. It’s what’s best for you and the baby.”

Tears pricked my eyes. “Selene, what about us? What if I never see you again?”

Her lips trembled, but she managed a sad smile. “We’ll find a way. No matter what. I’ll always be here for you and your child, even if…” She paused, her voice faltering. “Even if I can never reveal our blood ties. You’ll never be alone, Amelia.”

I pulled her into a tight embrace, the reality of the moment pressing on us both. We cried together, clinging to the bond we shared, even as it felt like it was slipping through our fingers.

When we finally pulled apart, Marcus spoke again, his voice steady. “The Lycan army will arrive tomorrow. I’ll send my best warriors to accompany you, to ensure you return to the castle safely. It’s the only way.”

I nodded, my resolve hardening. If this was the path I had to take to protect my child, I would walk it. No matter the cost.

“Come on,” said selenr, her voice gentle but firm. “Let’s get you out of here for a bit.”

I looked up at her, confusion clouding my thoughts. “Where… where would we go?”

“Just a walk,” she replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You need to start moving, building your strength back up.”

---

Later that evening, Selene and I returned to Greta’s room to share the news. Greta was busy mixing something at her workbench, the soft clinking of glass and the murmur of spells filling the air. When she turned to face us, her sharp eyes softened as she took in our tear-streaked faces.

“So, it’s decided,” she said, her voice tinged with a sorrowful understanding.

I nodded. “I’m leaving tomorrow. The Lycan army will take me to my father’s castle.”

For a moment, Greta said nothing. Then, her lips pressed into a thin line, and she stepped forward, wrapping me in a rare, fierce hug. “You’re doing the right thing, lass,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “And you’ll be safe. That’s all that matters.”

When she pulled away, there was a glint of something in her hand. A small, intricately carved pendant hung from a delicate chain. The stone at its center shimmered faintly, like moonlight trapped in glass.

“This,” Greta said, placing it in my hand, “is for you. It has a unique charm, imbued with protection spells. It’ll shield your pregnancy for a few months longer so nobody will suspect the child is Armands.

Tears blurred my vision as I slipped the chain over my head, the pendant resting just above my heart. “Thank you, Greta,” I whispered. “For everything.”

She gave a gruff nod, her own eyes glistening. “You just make sure to come back one day, you hear? I want to meet this wee one when it is born.”

I managed a watery smile. “I will.