Chapter 8 - The Ultrasound
1243 Words
The hospital room was too white. Too quiet.
Luna sat on the edge of the bed, clutching Damian’s hand. Her mom was in a wheelchair beside her, oxygen tank humming softly.
“First ultrasound,” the nurse said with a smile. “12 weeks. This is when we can hear the heartbeat.”
Damian hadn’t let go of Luna’s hand since they walked in. His thumb kept rubbing over her knuckles.
The Alpha who faced down 200 wolves yesterday looked terrified of a gel bottle.
“You don’t have to—” Luna started.
“I’m not leaving you,” Damian cut her off. “Not for this.”
The lights dimmed. Cold gel hit Luna’s stomach.
“Alright, let’s take a look,” the doctor said, moving the wand.
Static. Then black. Then—
*thump thump*
*thump thump*
Luna’s breath caught.
There it was. On the screen. A tiny flicker. Arms. Legs. A head.
The baby.
Luna started crying immediately. No warning.
“Is it— is it okay?” she choked out.
The doctor smiled. “Perfect. Strong heartbeat. 162 bpm. Right on track.”
Damian didn’t make a sound. But his grip on Luna’s hand tightened until it hurt. When Luna looked over, his jaw was clenched and there were tears running down his face.
He wasn’t wiping them.
“Can we know the gender?” Luna’s mom asked quietly.
“It’s a bit early but—” the doctor moved the wand. “Yes. I think I see...”
The screen showed a tiny blur between the legs.
“It’s a girl,” the doctor said.
A girl.
Luna sobbed. “A girl.”
Damian closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was looking at Luna like she hung the moon.
“A daughter,” he whispered. “We’re having a daughter.”
He leaned down and kissed Luna’s temple. Then her cheek. Then her lips. Right there in front of the nurse and doctor.
“I love you,” he said against her mouth. Not loud. Just true.
Luna froze.
Three words. From Damian.
Her mom started crying too. “Oh baby. A granddaughter.”
The doctor cleared her throat, giving them a minute. “Everything looks perfect. You’ll need to come back at 20 weeks for the anatomy scan.”
Damian finally let go of Luna’s hand to take the printed ultrasound photo. He stared at it for a long time. That tiny bean with a heartbeat.
“Mine,” he said quietly. Like he was convincing himself.
---
In the car ride home, no one spoke.
Damian drove. One hand on the wheel, the other resting on Luna’s knee.
At a red light, he picked up the ultrasound photo from the console.
“What should we name her?” he asked.
Luna blinked. “You want to decide now?”
“I’ve been thinking about it since 2am in the kitchen,” Damian admitted. “When I felt her kick.”
Luna smiled. “What do you like?”
“Something strong,” Damian said. “But soft too. She’ll need both in this world.”
“Like you?” Luna teased.
Damian didn’t smile. “Like her mother.”
Luna’s heart stopped.
The light turned green.
---
That night, the mansion felt different.
Damian had a room cleared out on the second floor. It used to be storage. Now it was empty, with sunlight coming through the windows.
“What’s this?” Luna asked.
“The nursery,” Damian said. “I thought... we could do it together. Pick colors. Furniture. Whatever you want.”
Luna walked to the window. “It’s perfect.”
Damian came up behind her. Didn’t touch her. Just stood close.
“I’ve never wanted anything like this,” he said. “A family. A future. It was never part of the plan.”
Luna turned. “Whose plan?”
Damian’s face went hard. The mask came back.
“Nothing,” he said. “Forget it.”
“Damian—”
“I said forget it.”
He walked out.
Luna stood in the empty nursery, hand on her belly. Her daughter kicked, like she felt the tension too.
---
Three days later, Luna found it.
She was looking for prenatal vitamins in Damian’s office. He told her she could use anything in there.
The bottom drawer was locked.
But the key was in his desk. Stupid Alpha.
Inside: a file.
**PROJECT LUNA**
Her name. In bold.
Luna’s hands shook as she opened it.
Page 1: Her photo. From high school. Before everything.
Page 2: Medical records. Her mom’s cancer diagnosis. Dated 6 months ago.
Page 3: Bank statements. Her father’s gambling debts. $87,000.
Page 4: A contract.
**Surrogacy Agreement. North Pack. Damian Blackwood.**
**Payment: $90,000 + Medical care for Eleanor Vance**
**Terms: 9 months. No contact after birth.**
It was signed.
By her father.
6 months ago.
Before she ever met Damian.
Luna dropped the file. Papers scattered across the floor.
“Damian knew,” she whispered. “He knew about me before the bar. Before the contract. Before all of it.”
The door opened.
Damian stood there. Face blank. Eyes cold.
“What are you doing in my office?” he asked.
Luna pointed at the papers. “What is this?”
Damian didn’t answer.
“Damian, did you plan this? Did my father sell me to you?”
Damian walked in and closed the door.
“Yes,” he said.
The word hit Luna like a punch.
“Yes, your father came to me. Yes, I agreed to the contract before I met you. Yes, the bar was staged.”
Luna couldn’t breathe. “The kick. The ultrasound. The nursery. Was any of it real?”
Damian crossed the room in two steps. Grabbed her face in both hands.
“Every single second of it was real,” he said, voice breaking. “I was supposed to take the baby and walk away. That was the deal. But then I felt her kick. And I couldn’t.”
Tears were falling down Luna’s face. “You lied to me.”
“I protected you,” Damian shot back. “Your father was going to sell you to someone worse. A trafficking ring. I paid more. I kept you safe.”
“Safe?” Luna laughed, hysterical. “You’re keeping me in a mansion with guards!”
“I love you,” Damian said.
Luna went still.
“What?”
“I said I love you,” Damian repeated. “And I love her. And I was going to tell you. After the baby was born. When it was safe.”
Luna pulled out of his grip. “It’s too late.”
She walked out. Past the guards. Past her mom’s nurse.
To her room.
She locked the door.
And for the first time since the first kick, Luna didn’t want Damian to come in.
---
That night, Damian slept on the floor outside her door.
Luna heard him there. Didn’t open it.
Her hand rested on her belly.
Her daughter kicked. Hard.
Like she was angry too.
Luna whispered, “It’s okay baby. Mommy’s here. We’re okay.”
But she wasn’t sure she believed it.
Outside, Damian whispered back through the door:
“I’m sorry, Luna. Please don’t hate me.”
Luna closed her eyes.
The ultrasound photo was on her nightstand.
A girl.
With Damian’s eyes.
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