Abegail’s POV
I should’ve been happy.
Resting on some velvet chaise, back rested with swollen feet propped up, sipping warm herbal tea while Kael’s strong hands worked the knots from my aching shoulders.
But instead, I was burning.
Not from the sun or fever, but from an inferno in my bones. Like my blood had turned to boiling oil, bubbling and blistering beneath the surface. Every breath felt too tight. My limbs jittered with a tremble I couldn’t control. I clutched my belly like I could shield the baby from the storm raging inside me.
This nausea wasn’t the passing queasiness they warned you about in pregnancy books. It was constant. Thick and sickly, like a tide that never went out.
And the calm—oh, that horrible, dry calm I had once learned to cling to, was gone.
“Vicky…” I whisp
