Chapter 5

FIONA POV

I woke up feeling like fire was burning through my veins. My skin was hot to the touch, and my head pounded with every heartbeat.

Was it from the cold night air yesterday, or was my body finally breaking down from the emotional trauma?

The silk sheets were damp with sweat. I'd never slept in anything so luxurious, but even paradise couldn't cure a broken heart.

Voices drifted up from downstairs—angry, heated voices. I wrapped the silk robe tighter around myself and padded barefoot toward the sound.

I was halfway down the marble staircase when a familiar figure appeared in the foyer below.

Damon.

Our eyes locked, and his face twisted with fury.

"You!" he growled, taking the stairs two at a time. "You have some fucking nerve being here!"

I stumbled backward, my fever making me dizzy. "Damon, I—"

"Did you sleep here?" His eyes raked over my nightgown with disgust. "In my father's house? Jesus Christ, Fiona, how desperate are you?"

He grabbed my arm roughly, his fingers digging into my skin. "Whatever sob story you fed him, whatever picture you painted to make him pity you—I'll make you pay for it."

"Let go of me," I whispered, but my voice was weak from the fever.

"You think you're clever? Coming here after I threw you out like garbage? My father might be having some midlife crisis, but I see you for what you really are—a pathetic omega whore who—"

"Damon!" Celeste's voice rang out as she rushed through the front door. She looked stunning in her white dress.

But when she saw me in my nightgown, her face twisted with revulsion.

"Oh my God," she breathed. "It's true. You actually slept here." She looked me up and down like I was something disgusting she'd found on her shoe. "How absolutely pathetic."

"I can explain—" I started.

"Explain what? How you're so desperate for Alpha attention that you'd throw yourself at the father after the son rejected you?"

Celeste's laugh was cruel. "That's a new low, even for an omega."

"That's not what happened—"

"Isn't it?" She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "Tell me, did you beg him the same way you begged Damon? Did you spread your legs and hope he'd take pity on you?"

The fever was making everything worse—the pain, the humiliation, the crushing of their hatred.

"Why are you still here?"

Alpha Magnus's voice echoed through the foyer like thunder. We all froze.

Celeste's confident mask slipped for a moment. She clearly hadn't expected the Alpha King to be around.

"Father," Damon started, "she’s trying—“

"I didn’t ask for your opinions ." Magnus descended the stairs like an avenging angel, his presence filling the entire space. "I thought I made myself clear about you leaving my territory."

"We were just going," Celeste said quickly, grabbing Damon's arm, seeing the anger in Damon’s face. She knows how stubborn he can be "Come on, let's get out of here."

As they headed for the door, Celeste brushed past me and whispered so only I could hear.

"Meet us outside later. We're not done with you."

The threat in her voice made my blood run cold. Even with my fever-addled mind, I understood the danger. They weren't going to let this go.

This was trouble. More trouble than I'd ever faced in my life.

The front door slammed behind them, leaving me alone with Magnus. I swayed on my feet, the fever making the room spin.

"How was your night?" he asked softly, his voice completely different from the commanding tone he'd used with Damon.

I looked up at him, this powerful man who'd shown me more kindness in one day than I'd received in months. His dark eyes were concerned, gentle.

"Fine," I lied, but my voice cracked.

He moved closer, and I caught his scent—pine and leather and something uniquely masculine that made my wolf perk up despite everything.

"You're burning up," he observed, reaching out to touch my forehead.

The moment his cool fingers made contact with my fevered skin, electricity shot through me. I gasped, and his eyes darkened.

"Fiona," he said, his voice rough. "You're not fine."

"I just need some rest—"

The world tilted sideways, and darkness claimed me.

When I woke up, I was in a massive bedroom I didn't recognize. The bed was enormous, covered in black silk sheets.

An elderly man in a white coat was packing medical supplies into a bag. The pack doctor.

"Where am I?" I asked, struggling to sit up.

"The Alpha's private suite," Dr. Hendricks replied. "You collapsed. High fever, dehydration, stress."

"How long was I unconscious?"

"Several hours. But you're stable now." He hesitated, studying my face carefully. "Miss Fiona, I need to ask you some questions. When was your last heat cycle?"

My stomach dropped. "Why?"

"Have you been experiencing any nausea? Fatigue? Changes in appetite?"

"Doctor, what's wrong with me?"

He sighed heavily, his expression sympathetic. "You're pregnant, my dear."

The words hit me like a physical blow. "What?

No, that's impossible—"

"About six weeks along, I'd estimate."

Six weeks. My mind raced backward, counting. There had been that night when I'd begged Damon to use protection, but he'd been too desperate, too horny.

"I can't have this baby," I said, more to myself than to him. "I can't have babies at all, but especially not his. Not now."

"You need to think carefully about your options," Dr. Hendricks said gently. "But first, you need to take care of yourself."

Panic clawed at my throat. "The Alpha can't know about this. Please, Dr. Hendricks. Nobody can know."

Understanding flickered in his eyes. He'd been the pack doctor for decades—he knew the dangers that came with being pregnant before finding a mate. Execution.

"I won't say anything," he promised quietly. "But sooner or later, he'll figure it out. Alpha senses are strong."

He was right. Magnus would smell the pregnancy hormones eventually. And when he did...

"I have to leave," I whispered. "I have to run far away from here."

"That might be wise," the doctor agreed sadly.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened. Magnus filled the doorway, in his casual clothes.

"How is she?" he asked Dr. Hendricks, but his eyes never left mine.

"Just exhaustion and stress," the doctor replied smoothly. "She needs rest and proper nutrition. Nothing that won't heal with time."

I held my breath, waiting for Magnus to contradict him, to reveal that he knew the truth.

But he simply nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. That will be all."

As Dr. Hendricks gathered his things, he caught my eye and gave me the slightest nod.

Our secret was safe.

For now.

But as Magnus approached the bed, his eyes dark with concern and something deeper, I realized that running might be my only option.

Because of carrying Damon's child while living with his father?

That was a complication none of us were prepared for. The biggest abomination ever!