Chapter Thirteen

Kaelani jolted awake, breathless, her body arching against the sheets as if the dream still held her captive. A hot pulse shuddered low in her abdomen, shame heating her cheeks even in the empty room.

Her breath caught as the fragments returned—the dream. His hands gripping her as if she belonged to him. The sound of his voice against her ear, rough and demanding. The way his name had ripped from her throat even as she tried to resist. The raw hunger in his eyes as he fucked her senseless until she shattered around him.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Goddess, it had felt real. Too real. She had come in her sleep. And she came hard—to that asshole.

Her pulse hammered in her ears. “It was just a dream,” she whispered into the stillness, forcing the words past dry lips.

Kaelani pressed her thighs together, trembling, but it did nothing to ease the ache. She buried her face in her pillow, willing her racing heart to calm, willing the memory to fade.

But the truth clung stubborn as his mark still etched on her neck. It was the most vivid dream she had ever had.

Kaelani flung the sheets back, the heat of her skin unbearable, and stumbled to her feet. The wooden floor was cool beneath her toes, but it wasn’t nearly enough. She crossed the small hall and flicked on the bathroom light, the glare almost harsh after the shadows of her bedroom.

She leaned over the sink, twisting the faucet until icy water poured out. Cupping her hands, she splashed it onto her face, the shock of cold making her gasp. Droplets clung to her lashes, slid down her cheeks, and offered refreshing relief.

When she finally looked up, the mirror exposed her. Her nipples pressed stiffly against the thin silk of her nighty, her skin flushed, damp strands of hair curling around her face. Worse, the slick heat between her thighs hadn’t ebbed; it clung to her, undeniable proof of how deeply the dream had touched her.

Kaelani pressed her palms to the counter, breathing deep until her pulse slowed. Then, with a sharp shake of her head, she turned from the mirror.

By the time dawn crept in, she was already in the bakery, hands deep in flour and dough. The familiar motions steadied her—measuring, kneading, shaping, sliding trays into the oven. The hum of the ovens, the scent of yeast rising, the rhythm of work… it was her anchor. Her peace.

By the end of the week, Kaelani had buried herself in routine—up before dawn, sleeves dusted white, hands shaping loaves and pastries until muscle memory carried her through the day. The work should have been enough. It usually was.

But her sleep betrayed her.

She dreamed of him again in her garden. Standing beneath the moonlight, eyes burning with hunger. She resisted, denied him, swore she would not yield. But he didn’t listen. His strength pinned her, his mouth silenced her—until she was once again convulsing around him, milking his own release as he buried himself deep inside of her.

The sun had long dipped by the time Kaelani locked up the bakery and began the walk home. The streets glowed faintly with the last traces of daylight, light fixtures flickering to life one by one.

She had begun to hate this part—the end of the day, the quiet stretch between the bakery and her front door. With nothing left to busy her hands, her thoughts crept in. Thoughts she didn’t trust. She didn’t want to think about that bastard. She didn’t want to wonder if she would see him again when she closed her eyes.

Her jaw tightened, frustration burning under her skin. She quickened her pace, eyes fixed on the corner ahead—

A low hum cut through her thoughts. Tires against gravel.

A sleek car pulled alongside her, the gleam of polished black catching the last threads of light. Kaelani’s steps faltered.

The window slid down with mechanical smoothness. An older man peered out, hair silvered at the temples, spectacles perched neatly on his nose. His smile was mild, his tone courteous.

“Good evening, Miss Kaelani.”

She stilled, every instinct flaring.

The man inclined his head faintly. “Forgive the abruptness. My name is Dr. Aldric. I serve as the physician to Mr. Julian’s… estate.” His eyes, sharp and assessing, lingered on her face as if noting every flicker of expression. “I was sent on behalf of Mr. Jace. I believe we have some business to conduct.”

Kaelani’s gaze flicked around—neighbors on porches, street lights spilling across cobblestone. No one was looking, but the fear of being seen rooted her in place.

The driver’s door opened. A man in dark attire stepped out, polished, impassive. He circled to the back and opened the door with a quiet click, waiting.

Kaelani’s heart thudded. For a breath she hesitated, her fingers tightening on the straps of her bag. Then, forcing her face into calm neutrality, she slipped inside.

The leather seat sighed beneath her as the car pulled away from the curb. Dr. Aldric set a leather case on the seat between them, the faint clink of glass vials breaking the silence.

“Let’s get to it, shall we,” he said, already snapping on a pair of gloves.

She held out her arm when he gestured, the sleeve of her dress pushed back. The needle slid in clean, sharp, filling one vial, then another, then another. By the fourth, her brows knit.

“Why so many?” She asked, unable to keep the edge from her voice.

“Better to run repeats,” Dr. Aldric replied without looking up, carefully switching to the next vial. “False readings happen. Precaution, nothing more.”

He finished the last draw, pressing a cotton pad firmly against her arm before finally meeting her eyes. His expression was soft, almost kind, but his words were too pointed to be casual.

“Tell me,” he said without skipping a beat, “have you experienced any symptoms lately? Nausea, dizziness, fatigue, unusual cravings?” His pause was deliberate. “Tenderness?”

Her mouth went dry. She drew her arm back, tucking it close. “No.” The word came quick, clipped. “None.”

Dr. Aldric’s lips curved faintly, satisfied. “That’s excellent.” He packed the vials neatly away, as calm as if they’d been discussing the weather.

Kaelani turned to the window, the blur of lights and buildings sliding past. Her throat tightened with a thought she couldn’t swallow.

She was sure that asshole Alpha loathed the idea of fathering a child with her. He had a Luna. At least, one he would claim soon if he hadn’t already. She was what he wanted, not some wolf-less nobody.

Dr. Aldric snapped the case shut and reached into his coat pocket. A small amber bottle clicked as he set it in her hand.

“Heat suppressants,” he explained. “I’ll call you tomorrow with your results. Assuming they’re negative, you can start them right away.”

Kaelani turned the bottle over in her palm, the label blank but the weight of it heavy.

He slipped a card from his wallet and offered it to her between two fingers. “When you require a refill, call me directly. I’ll see to it promptly.”

The car slowed, the hum of the engine dipping. Kaelani glanced out the window and let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Her house. They had brought her home.

Her fingers tightened on the pill bottle. Was she supposed to thank him? The words curdled in her throat. Instead, she managed, “Have a good evening, Doctor.”

His smile was polite. “You as well, Miss Kaelani.”

The driver opened her door. Cool night air rushed in. She stepped out, clutching the bottle in her hand so tight it might shatter within her grasp.