Episode Five The Truth Beneath the Mirror

Mira woke to the sound of her own breathing.

Slow. Uneven. Too loud in her ears.

Her eyelids felt heavy, like they were glued shut. When she finally forced them open, the world came back in pieces. White ceiling. Blinding light. A sharp smell that burned her nose. Her head throbbed and her stomach twisted painfully.

She swallowed and winced.

This was not the restaurant.

This was a hospital.

Panic surged through her chest. She tried to sit up but a wave of dizziness hit her hard, forcing her back against the mattress. A quiet groan slipped from her lips before she could stop it.

“Easy.”

The voice came from the right.

She turned her head slowly and her heart skipped.

Alder.

He stood beside the bed, jacket gone, sleeves rolled up, dark hair slightly disheveled. His posture was tense, like a man holding himself together by force alone. His eyes were locked on her face, sharp with concern he did not bother to hide.

“What happened?” she whispered.

“You fainted,” he said. “You scared me.”

“I don’t faint.”

“I know.”

Her gaze drifted to the IV in her hand. “Why am I here?”

“You collapsed,” he replied. “The doctor insisted on tests.”

Her stomach rolled again, stronger this time. She turned her head and gagged. Alder moved instantly, grabbing a bowl and holding it under her chin. Her body convulsed but nothing came up except bitter saliva and a sharp ache that left her trembling.

When it passed, tears burned her eyes, more from humiliation than pain.

“I’m fine,” she muttered.

Alder did not look convinced.

The door opened quietly and a doctor stepped inside. He was calm, professional, and far too composed for the storm raging inside her chest.

“Miss Valentini,” he said. “How are you feeling now?”

“Like I want to leave.”

He gave a small smile. “That is understandable. But we need to talk first.”

Her heart dropped.

“Talk about what?”

He glanced at Alder. “Would you like to stay?”

“Yes,” Alder said immediately.

Mira opened her mouth to protest, but the doctor was already turning back to her.

“You fainted due to hormonal changes,” he said gently. “We ran a few tests to be sure.”

Her fingers curled into the sheet. “And?”

“You are pregnant.”

The word slammed into her like a physical blow.

Pregnant.

“No,” she said instantly. “That’s not possible.”

“You are approximately eight weeks along.”

The room tilted. Her vision blurred as memories crashed over her in violent flashes. The full moon. Heat burning through her veins. Kade’s hands. His scent. His voice against her skin.

Her breath hitched painfully.

Alder went completely still.

“That’s wrong,” she whispered. “You made a mistake.”

“We ran the tests twice,” the doctor replied. “There is no mistake.”

Her hands flew to her stomach as if she could feel something there already. “No. No no no.”

The doctor cleared his throat. “I will give you a moment.”

He left.

The silence that followed was unbearable.

Mira stared at the wall, chest rising too fast. “It’s his,” she said softly.

Alder closed his eyes.

“I didn’t know,” she rushed out. “I swear I didn’t know.”

“I believe you.”

His voice was quiet, controlled, but she could hear the crack beneath it.

“I understand if you call off the wedding,” she said quickly. “I won’t blame you. I won’t fight it.”

Alder turned to face her. His eyes were dark with pain but steady. “What do you want to do?”

The question stunned her.

“I thought you’d be angry.”

“I am,” he admitted. “But that is not the most important thing right now.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. “You should hate me.”

“I don’t.”

That broke her.

“I’m carrying his child,” she sobbed. “The brother you hate.”

Alder stepped closer. “This child will never be unwanted,” he said firmly. “Not while I breathe.”

Her lips trembled. “You would still marry me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I know what it feels like to be rejected before you even understand why,” he said. “And I will not let that happen again. Not to you. Not to this child.”

She cried harder, guilt and relief tangling painfully in her chest. He pulled her into his arms carefully, holding her like she was something fragile and precious.

Later that night, the hospital grew quiet. Machines hummed softly. Alder sat in a chair beside her bed, unmoving.

“You should go home,” she murmured.

“I’m not leaving.”

She turned to face him. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he said.

Silence stretched.

“I don’t know how to be okay with this,” she admitted.

“You don’t have to be,” he replied. “Not tonight.”

She reached out without thinking. Her fingers brushed his hand. He turned it over and laced their fingers together.

For the first time since she woke, Mira felt something settle inside her.

Not peace.

But resolve.

Whatever came next, her life had changed forever.

And there would be no running this time.