SIX

A week had passed.

Seven days of the same routine.

Eliza would leave her room everyday only when summoned for meals. Every morning and night, she sat quietly at the long dining table, barely touching the food in front of her while Pamela tried—gently, persistently—to draw her into conversation.

And Rebecca on the other hand, never tried. She only watched Eliza with that same unreadable, cold gaze that made Eliza feel like she was being measured and found lacking every single time.

She stood by the window now, her arms wrapped loosely around herself as she stared out at the vast palace grounds. The sky was clear, the sun high, everything bright and alive in a way that felt almost mocking.

She had grown exhausted of the routine. Her life at the Storm pack was very different to her old life and though her meals were more frequent and her bed was softer, she was tired of it. The emptiness that managed to linger during her days in the Grey pack was still present and this time, there was no Harold to try to take her mind off things.

Harold.

Her chest tightened as the thought of him came uninvited, as it always did. She had tried, more times than she could count. She had asked the maids, subtly at first, then more directly. Asked if there was a way to send a message. Asked if anyone ever left the palace grounds. Asked anything that could somehow connect her back to him.

Every attempt had been useless. There was no way out. No way to reach him. No way to even know if he was alright.

Her fingers curled slightly against her arms.

And then there was Alaric. She hadn’t seen him.

Not once since that morning at the dining hall.

The last thing she remembered was the brief glance he had given her—nothing more than a passing look—before turning his attention back to Rebecca. And after that, he walked out of the hall and vanished. For an entire week.

When she had finally gathered the courage to ask one of the maids, the response had been simple— he had travelled for pack matters.

Eliza let out a slow breath, pushing herself away from the window. Of course, he had a life. A world that didn’t revolve around her existence in this palace. Meanwhile, she on the other hand, was stuck.

Turning away, she walked toward the vanity, her reflection catching her attention briefly before she looked away again. She didn’t feel like staring at herself today.

With a quiet sigh, she reached for one of the gowns laid out for her. Breakfast time again.

She had just finished dressing when a knock sounded at the door. Before she could reply whoever it was, the door was pushed open to reveal Rebecca.

She looked as flawless as ever, dressed in a gown that seemed to fall perfectly around her frame, her posture straight, her expression calm.

“Eliza,” she called softly, stepping further into the room. “You’re awake.”

Eliza straightened slightly. “Good morning.”

Rebecca didn’t return the greeting. Instead, she looked around the room like it was her first time in and spoke plainly. “You won’t be coming out for breakfast today.”

Eliza blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I’ll have the maids bring your food here,” Rebecca continued, her tone smooth, almost indifferent. “My parents are visiting.”

A small pause.

“Since only immediate family is aware of your presence, it would be best if you remained out of sight.”

The words were polite. Carefully chosen almost like she’d rehearsed them beforehand. But that didn’t stop a quiet sting from hitting Eliza’s chest.

“Oh,” she muttered. “I see.”

Rebecca simply nodded.

“You don’t have to worry about me then,” Eliza added. “The maids do not have to bring my food. I’m not that hungry.”

“As you wish,” Rebecca didn’t hesitate for a second, immediately turning to leave the room. Eliza remained in position in disbelief, watching the door to the room shut behind her.

For a long moment, she said nothing. She didn’t move, didn’t think and eventually, let out a breath and took a seat by the edge of the bed.

She wasn’t lying when she said she wasn’t hungry so instead she decided to sleep. She failed miserably at that though and by afternoon, the silence in the room had grown almost unbearable.

Eliza lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting in directions she didn’t want them to go. She thought of whatever could be going on outside, thought of Harold, Alaric and the possibility of her actually being pregnant.

Her stomach felt hollow, but she ignored it. It didn’t matter.

She turned in her bed, the sound of a knock on the door filling the room as if on cue. She simply groaned in response, refusing to move or respond.

The knock only grew louder though, forcing her to choose either.

“I’m not hungry,” she finally went with the latter. “You can take it back.”

The door opened anyway and instantly, a flicker of irritation crossed her mind. Immediately wearing a frown, she pushed herself up and turned in the direction of the door.

“I said I’m not—”

It took less than a second for the words to instantly die in her throat.

It wasn’t a maid who was standing by the doorway. It wasn’t even Rebecca. It was Alaric.

He stood a few meters away from her, tall, composed, his presence alone enough to shift the air in the room.

For a moment, Eliza forget how to breathe.

It had only been a week. Just one week and yet,

seeing him sudden felt different.

Her eyes lingered on him longer than they should have. Taking in the sharp lines of his face, the way his clothes fit him effortlessly, the quiet authority in the way he carried himself.

Her chest tightened.

“Oh,” Alaric broke the silence, stepping in before her thoughts could take the wrong turn. “So you’ve really been refusing to come out to eat.”

Eliza blinked, snapping out of it. She watched him shut the door behind him gently, her gaze wavering for a while before she steadied it on him.

“What? No, I didn’t—” she started, then stopped herself. That didn’t matter. “What are you doing here?”

Alaric didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his gaze swept over her briefly before returning to her face.

“I heard you didn’t come out for breakfast.”

“That’s not what happened,” she said quickly.

He didn’t look convinced. And suddenly, irritation that had been quietly building inside her all week found its way to the surface.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

The question slipped out before she could stop it.

Alaric seemed slightly taken aback but replied anyways. “I had urgent matters to attend to.”

Eliza let out a small, humorless breath. “Couldn’t you have said something before leaving? Goodbye?”

His brows drew together faintly. She sat up fully now, her gaze fixed on him.

“I’m new here,” she continued, her voice softer but carrying something raw beneath it. “I don’t know anything. I don’t know anyone. One morning you were here and the next you just left for an entire week. What did you expect me to do in your absence?”

Alaric stared at her for a moment, confusion settling all over his features. He looked at her, took a step further and slowly raised his brows. “Is this because of the pregnancy hormones?”

“What?” His words pulled her back to her senses, every vulnerability that had managed to slip through vanishing in an instant. “No. What— I told you already, I’m not pregnant.”

“You’re not sure about that,” he nodded. “And that’s what I’m here to confirm.”

“What?” Before she could utter another word, he turned slightly toward the door.

“Come in.”

Eliza’s heart skipped. The door opened again. And this time, a woman stepped in— older, composed and carrying a small bag.

“The pack doctor,” Alaric introduced her. “She’s here to check your symptoms. To confirm if you’re actually pregnant?”

“What? Is this why you left for an entire week?”

He didn’t reply her and instead, gave the woman instructions. Eliza felt like a stranger in her own world, left with no choice but to listen to the orders given regarding her own body and life.

Everything that followed felt distant. Like she was watching it happen from somewhere outside her body. The examination, the quiet instructions, the silence that filled the room as the doctor worked.

Eliza sat there, her hands resting stiffly on her lap, her mind strangely blank. And then all of a sudden, the doctor broke the silence again.

“You’re correct, Alpha King Alaric. She’s pregnant.”

Eliza felt her breath immediately seize in her throat. The words landed heavy, her whole world suddenly stilling for a second.

She was pregnant.

“Good, thank you,” she heard Alaric say to the doctor. “You may leave now.”

She heard the door click shut again, Alaric speaking up the second they were alone again.

“You heard him. You’re pregnant. You’re carrying my heir. The heir to the Storm pack.”

“Let’s talk again during dinner about the changes that’ll be taking place now,” he continued. “For now, I need to inform my mother and make necessary preparations. I’ll see you later then.”

He didn’t wait for a response from her before turning away from her to leave the room. The door closed behind her and just like that, she was all alone again.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then all of a sudden, Eliza felt her vision blur. A sharp breath escaped her as her hands trembled slightly before moving to her stomach.

Pregnant.

She let out a broken sound, her body folding in on itself as the weight of everything came crashing down at once.

Tears immediately rolled down her cheeks, spilling uncontrollably. Her fingers clutched at the fabric of her dress as she held her stomach, her shoulders shaking.

The reality— her reality suddenly felt too much for her to handle. Not only was she separated from the man she loved, she was now pregnant for a man she didn’t know or love.

She didn’t wipe the tears that kept on gushing out of her eyes. She allowed it. Allowed herself drown in the consequences of her actions. Allowed herself get twisted in the dirty game fate was playing with her. Allowed the universe believe for a moment that she had given up.

Except she hadn’t. And with a new determination, she sat up and wiped her cheeks.

Her life had been everything but easy ever since she was born. And without much of a choice, she accepted it and allowed fate play with her however it pleased.

But not anymore.

If she couldn’t have it all— the man she loved and a child that belonged to him— then she’d rather not have any at all.