Closed Doors

Chapter 7

I wasn't trying to listen.

That's what I told myself as I stood outside Roman's study with my hand hovering near the door.

I wasn't knocking.

I wasn't leaving either.

“that's not possible.”

Roman's voice was low and tight.

“The readings say otherwise.”

Sable.

Careful as always, but there was an edge beneath her voice now.

“I've run it three times.”

“Run it again.”

“Roman, I've already”

“Again.”

Silence.

I leaned closer.

Then I heard Roman speak again.

“She can't know yet.”

My stomach dropped.

“Not until we understand what we're dealing with.”

She.

There was no one else in this house he could mean.

I pressed closer to the door, straining to hear what came next.

The door opened.

I stumbled backward.

Roman stood in the doorway.

Behind him, Sable was already gathering her things.

She looked at me once.

Something passed through her eyes.

Regret, maybe.

Then she looked away.

“Mira.”

Roman's voice was even.

His eyes weren't.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“I was just passing through.”

His gaze moved briefly down the corridor.

“This corridor doesn't lead anywhere but here.”

Fair point.

I didn't have an answer.

So I didn't give him one.

Sable slipped past us with a quiet, “Excuse me,” and disappeared down the hall.

Then it was just me and Roman.

And the study door he hadn't quite closed behind him.

“Is something wrong with me?”

Roman's expression hardened.

“Mira”

“Or the baby?”

His jaw tightened.

“The pregnancy is being monitored.”

“That's not what I asked.”

He said nothing.

“You told Sable to run the tests again.”

“I did.”

“You told her I couldn't know yet.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“You were listening.”

“Yes.”

“At my door.”

“Yes.”

“At least you're honest about it.”

“I wouldn't have needed to listen if you were telling me the truth.”

Something flickered across his face.

“You don't know what you're talking about.”

“I know enough.”

I stepped closer.

“Is the baby in danger?”

For one brief second, his control disappeared.

Not anger.

Fear.

Real fear.

It flashed across his face so quickly I almost wondered if I'd imagined it.

Then the mask returned.

“No.”

The answer came too quickly.

“You're lying.”

“I'm telling you what I know.”

“That's different.”

“Yes.”

His admission caught me off guard.

I stared at him.

He exhaled slowly.

“Sable found something in your bloodwork.”

“What?”

“We don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Not yet.”

“Then why can't I know?”

“Because I don't want to give you a theory and call it an answer.”

“That's my decision to make.”

“Mira”

“No.”

I shook my head.

“You don't get to decide what information I can handle.”

His eyes darkened.

“I am trying to protect you.”

“By keeping me ignorant?”

“By not frightening you with something neither of us understands.”

“Something frightening enough to make you look terrified?”

He went still.

I had seen it.

He knew I had.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he looked away.

“I don't get terrified.”

“You did.”

His gaze returned to mine.

He didn't deny it.

That scared me more than if he had argued.

“What did Sable find?”

“I don't know.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I expect you to believe that I don't have an answer yet.”

“Then what does she think?”

“She has possibilities.”

“What possibilities?”

“She hasn't confirmed any of them.”

“Roman.”

He stepped closer.

“Enough.”

The word wasn't loud.

It didn't need to be.

But there was no threat in it.

Only exhaustion.

“I've spent years knowing exactly what to do when something threatens Blackthorn,” he said quietly. “I know how to deal with enemies. Politics. Territory disputes. People who want me dead.”

His expression tightened.

“I don't know how to deal with something inside you that I can't identify.”

The honesty stopped me.

“So you're scared.”

“Yes.”

The word came quietly.

No hesitation.

No denial.

Just the truth.

I swallowed.

“Of me?”

His eyes held mine.

“Of losing you.”

The air seemed to disappear from the corridor.

I hadn't expected that answer.

Neither, judging by the sudden tension in his shoulders, had he expected to say it.

“Then stop shutting me out.”

His jaw flexed.

“I don't know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Care about something I can't control.”

For the first time, Roman looked less like the Alpha everyone feared and more like a man who had run out of ways to pretend he wasn't afraid.

I softened despite myself.

“Then let me help.”

His eyes searched mine.

“I can't promise I'll tell you everything immediately.”

“I know.”

“But I won't deliberately lie to you.”

I studied him.

“That's not the same thing.”

“No.”

He paused.

“But it's what I can promise right now.”

I wanted to be angry.

I was angry.

But underneath it was something harder to name.

Trust wasn't there.

Not yet.

But maybe the first crack in the wall was.

Roman stepped back.

“Get some rest.”

“That's your solution?”

“For tonight.”

“And tomorrow?”

“I'll speak to Sable again.”

“And I'll be there.”

His brow furrowed.

“You don't need to be.”

“I absolutely do.”

A faint, almost reluctant amusement touched his expression.

“You're difficult.”

“So I've been told.”

He turned to leave.

Then stopped.

His shoulders tightened.

For several seconds, he remained with his back to me.

Then he turned around.

His voice was quieter now.

“If anything feels different…”

He hesitated.

“Anything at all.”

His eyes held mine.

“You tell me.”

I frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“Pain. Dizziness. Anything unusual.”

“Why?”

“I need to know.”

“Because of the bloodwork?”

“Yes.”

He paused.

“And because I don't know what we're dealing with yet.”

My pulse quickened.

“What exactly should I be watching for?”

His expression changed.

“I don't know.”

That answer chilled me.

“Then what do you know?”

He looked at me for a long moment.

“Less than I want to.”

Then he walked away.

I stood there long after he'd disappeared down the corridor.

My hand pressed against the study door.

The same door I'd been listening through minutes earlier.

Sable had found something in my blood.

Roman knew.

Neither of them understood it.

And whatever it was had frightened a man who seemed almost impossible to frighten.

But there was something else.

Something I couldn't stop thinking about.

If anything feels different, tell me.

I looked down at my hands.

They looked normal.

My body felt normal.

Everything felt normal.

Almost.

Then, beneath my palm, something moved.

Not the baby.

Not a kick.

Something deeper.

A strange pulse passed through my wrist and disappeared before I could catch it.

I froze.

“Roman…”

But he was already gone.

And for the first time, I wondered if the thing Sable had found in my blood wasn't simply something wrong with me.

Maybe it was something waking up.