The Alpha King's Unclaimed Queen

UntiChapter 6: The Test

Vivienne POV

"The car was too quiet."

I sat with my hands folded in my lap, watching the city disappear beyond the passenger window. Busy streets slowly gave way to older neighborhoods where the roads narrowed, the trees grew taller, and the houses stood hidden behind stone walls and iron gates.

Killian drove himself. There was no chauffeur, no line of security cars, only the quiet hum of an engine that barely made a sound.

He hadn't spoken since we left the motel. After several minutes, I realized the silence didn't bother him at all. He seemed perfectly content to let it stretch on for as long as it needed to.

"Where are we going?" I finally asked.

"A physician."

His eyes stayed on the road.

"Not a hospital."

"Why not?"

"Because hospitals keep records." His answer came without hesitation. "They ask questions. They talk. The people I use don't."

I looked back out the window before he could see my expression.

The people I use.

The words lingered in my mind long after he said them. I found myself thinking about Draven. He had hated silence, filling every quiet moment with something to say, while Killian seemed perfectly at home inside it.

"You could talk to me," I said before I could stop myself.

"I'm talking to you."

"No." I shook my head. "You're answering questions. That's different."

A few quiet seconds passed.

"What would you like me to say?"

I almost laughed.

"I don't know. Something that isn't a legal decision."

His jaw shifted slightly.

"The physician's name is Dr. Halloway. He's treated my family for more than thirty years and values discretion above everything else."

"And that's supposed to reassure me?"

"It wasn't intended to." His tone never changed. "You asked. I answered."

I sighed and turned back toward the window. The conversation ended there.

Nearly thirty minutes later, Killian turned onto a private road lined with towering oak trees. Their branches stretched overhead, filtering the afternoon sunlight across the pavement.

At the end of the road stood a pair of wrought iron gates. A security camera rotated toward us. Seconds later, the gates opened on their own. Someone had been expecting us.

The driveway curved through perfectly kept gardens before stopping in front of a stone building that looked more like a private estate than a medical practice. There was no bright sign, only a polished brass plaque beside the entrance.

Dr. Elias Halloway. Private Physician.

Killian switched off the engine.

"We're here."

He stepped out, and I followed. The place was unnervingly quiet. There were no crowded waiting rooms, no ringing telephones, no patients wandering the halls.

Even the receptionist greeted Killian with nothing more than a respectful nod before leading us down a short corridor. Everything about the building seemed designed to keep people unseen.

The consultation room looked more like a private study than a clinic. Dark wooden shelves lined one wall, while tall windows overlooked a peaceful garden where water flowed through a stone fountain.

An older man entered a moment later. Silver touched his temples, but his posture stayed straight, and his calm expression carried the quiet confidence of someone who had spent decades earning people's trust.

"Alpha Cross." He inclined his head, then turned to me. "You must be Ms. Marsh. I'm Dr. Elias Halloway. It's nice to meet you. I'm sorry it's under these circumstances."

His quiet kindness eased some of the tension in my shoulders. He gestured toward the examination chair.

"Please."

I sat while he opened a file.

"I've spoken with Dr. Whitfield. I understand you've already been told about the laboratory error."

I nodded.

"Yes."

"Our purpose today is simply to confirm the information on our own." His calm manner made the process feel almost routine. "I'll ask you a few questions first."

He reviewed my medical history, confirmed the date of the procedure, asked about my current medications, and whether I had noticed any unusual symptoms.

When he finished making notes, he closed the file.

"Good."

He opened a sealed package and took out two sterile swabs.

"We'll collect DNA samples from both of you." He looked at me first. "It won't take long."

The cotton swab brushed the inside of my cheek before he sealed the sample inside a labelled container. Killian stepped forward without being asked. Dr. Halloway repeated the process, then sealed his sample in a second container.

He checked both labels carefully, scanned their barcodes, and locked them inside a small case.

"You take extra precautions," I said.

"I've learned accuracy matters most when the results carry consequences."

He fastened the case shut.

"Our laboratory is prepared for your samples." His gaze moved between Killian and me. "The analysis should be finished within the hour."

I stared at him.

"Within an hour?"

A faint smile touched his face.

"Human laboratories operate differently."

Before I could ask another question, he picked up the case.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll have these processed right away."

The door closed quietly behind him. The room went still, just the two of us and the sound of the fountain outside the window.

Killian stayed standing by the window. He didn't pace, and he didn't reach for his phone. He simply watched the gardens outside, as composed as he had been since stepping out of the black sedan.

I wasn't sure if anything ever unsettled him.

"Does every appointment feel this secret?" I asked.

He turned slightly.

"No."

"Then why this one?"

"Because discretion matters." His answer was as calm as ever. "The fewer people who know about this, the better."

"For you?"

"For everyone involved."

I studied him. He still hadn't asked how I was feeling. He hadn't apologised for what happened at the clinic. He hadn't tried to reassure me.

Everything he did seemed guided by reason instead of emotion, and I couldn't decide whether that made him easier or harder to understand.

"Come." He nodded toward the door. "The waiting room is more comfortable."

I followed him into a quiet lounge overlooking the gardens. There were no televisions, no magazines, no conversations drifting through the halls. A few leather chairs surrounded a low wooden table, while an old clock on the wall marked each passing second.

I settled into one of the chairs. Killian took the seat across from me.

"How long did Dr. Halloway say it would take?"

"About an hour."

I frowned.

"The clinic told me DNA results take days."

"Not here." His voice remained calm. "Our laboratory is equipped to process them faster."

"What makes it so different?"

"The technology."

That was all he said. When it became clear he wasn't going to explain further, I let the question drop. Neither of us spoke for a while.

Outside, sunlight shimmered across the fountain while the breeze stirred the leaves overhead.

"And if the test is negative?"

The question escaped before I could stop it.

His eyes met mine.

"Then you return to your life."

"And you?"

"I return to mine."

The answer should have comforted me. Instead, my hands curled in my lap. What life was I returning to? Draven was gone. The apartment no longer felt like home, and I had already lost my job.

Even if today's test proved the clinic had made a mistake, nothing waiting for me would be the same.

"And if it's positive?"

This time, Killian didn't answer right away. He held my gaze for several long seconds before speaking.

"Then everything changes." His voice dropped, quiet and even. "For both of us."

I blinked. It was the first time he had admitted that this situation would touch his life too.

Neither of us spoke after that. The clock kept its slow, steady rhythm, making each passing minute feel longer than the one before it.

I folded my hands together to stop myself from fidgeting. No matter how many possibilities ran through my mind, the answer already existed somewhere inside this building, waiting for us.

I drew a slow breath. If the test came back negative, I could leave this place and never see Alpha Killian Cross again. If it came back positive, nothing about my life would ever be the same.

My grip tightened around my own fingers as I waited.

Then the door opened.