“I’m… I’m pregnant.”
She gave a quick nod.
“Pregnant,” I repeated, the information sort of sinking in. A child was growing inside me, right at this moment. I was… I was going to be a mother. My heart stuttered. Could I even be a mother? I was relatively organized and responsible. I was smart, and I’d had to take care of my mother from a very young age, but that was not the same thing as having to take care of a tiny human being. I had no idea what my future held.
Now my heart raced. Aric had…he’d fed from me repeatedly, just like the fae had done to my mother all those years ago. The trauma that had left her spontaneously going in and out of reality. I’d already had moments of being sucked into a world that seemed to exist only in my mind. There could be a chance I would wake up tomorrow and spend the entire day stuck in a world of terrifying memories and haunting hallucinations. I might spend days that way. Mom had sometimes spent weeks like that, and I…I didn’t want to do that to a child. I knew what it felt like to see someone you loved, who was supposed to be the person that supported and took care of you, become trapped and unreachable. I wasn’t bitter nor did I regret being there for my mom. Not at all. But when she was herself, I knew the knowledge that she needed constant care killed her.
I didn’t want to repeat that cycle.
God, that was the last thing I wanted to do.
Luce’s pale blue eyes searched mine. “It would help to know who the father is. That could possibly explain how this is likely.”
I pulled myself from what felt like a downward spiral into flailing panic and drew in a tight, shallow breath.
Her shoulders squared as if she were preparing herself. “It is…obvious that the King cares for you deeply. When you were gone, he nearly tore the city of New Orleans apart looking for you. He’s barely left your side since he found you, and sleeps only for a few hours here and there.”
My heart squeezed painfully, and I closed my eyes. So much had happened since I woke up, no longer chained to what I believed would be my tomb. I’d just remembered what Aric had insinuated. That a Summer fae had been aiding him. I needed to tell Caden this. Not only that, I was still trying to process everything that had happened with Aric, what had come before that and after. And just an hour ago, I’d felt a sense of hope for the first time since Aric had taken me. The feeling had nearly stolen my breath.
Caden loved me. He’d ended his arranged engagement for me, but the awe-inspiring part was that I could still feel attraction and love after being trapped by Aric. The pain and the humiliation and the god-awful fear hadn’t stolen the capability to desire, want, or love from me. Realizing that was life-altering. I knew that I could move on from what Aric had done, even if doing so took days or months or years. And I knew that Caden would be waiting for me, no matter how long it took.
That hope had crashed and burned spectacularly when Tatiana, the would-be Queen of the Summer Court, sat right where Luce was sitting now and explained what would happen if Caden didn’t marry a fae of the Summer Court.
A King must choose a Queen to bear the next generation. Without doing so, the entire Summer Court would be weakened, and so would Caden. He would be dethroned, ostracized, and unprotected. Although he would no longer be a King, his blood still could be used by the Winter Court to commit unimaginable horror. Not only that, if what Tatiana claimed was true, the entire Court’s fertility rate would continue to decrease until the entire race died out.
Caden must have known all of that when he ended the engagement with Tatiana. And while that was overwhelming in a way I had little experience with, it was also terrifying.
Because without the Summer fae fighting back against the Winter fae, mankind would fall. The Order I worked for wouldn’t be able to hold them back.
It wasn’t just the future of the Summer Court that relied on the King choosing his Queen. The entire world did as well.
I’d always dreamed about the kind of love where someone was willing to risk everything. I never thought I’d be on the receiving end of it, but I wanted it—wanted it so damn badly.
But was that kind of love worth everything? The downfall of the Summer Court? Mankind? I shuddered as the back of my nose burned. A part of me wanted to scream that yes it was, but could I really live with myself—live happily ever after for however long Caden and I had—while the world fell apart around us? Until the Winter Court came for him, and he wasn’t able to fight them off?
Could Caden really live with that?
He might think so now, but months and years from now? I didn’t think so.
I knew I couldn’t.
And now, with the knowledge that I could…that I was bringing a child into a world that would definitely have an expiration date stamped on it? I couldn’t do that.
Luce had tipped forward when I reopened my damp eyes. “Is it possible, Brighton, that the King is the father? Or could it be someone else?”
“Aric didn’t…he didn’t rape me.”
“You said you didn’t remember anything like that,” she clarified gently. “I would think it would be unlikely for it to be him, based on the stage of your pregnancy. But if it happened at the beginning of your captivity, it wouldn’t be wholly impossible.”
I was pretty sure Aric hadn’t forced himself on me. To be honest, he’d seemed pretty disgusted by humans, especially me. But toward the end, I’d thought he started to respect me, as messed up as that was. If I hadn’t been able to kill him when I did, I had a horrible, sinking feeling that this conversation might be different.
I shook my head. “It’s not him.”
Luce’s gaze met mine. “Then the King is the father. Or possibly someone else?”
The breath I exhaled punched out of me. “There’s no one else. It has to be him. We had…well, we were together, and there wasn’t protection. I didn’t think it would be a concern.”
Luce didn’t move for several moments. I wasn’t even sure if she breathed, but then she swallowed and sat up straight. “It’s extremely rare for a human to become pregnant by a fae, but it happens.”
I knew that. A halfling could be born from such a union. Ivy Owens was a prime example of that—
“The prophecy.” I jolted, heart leaping into my throat. “The one that could cause the gates of the Otherworld to open—”
“You’re not a halfling,” Luce interceded calmly. “Your child most likely wouldn’t even be one.”
Yes, she was right. The prophecy that would tear open the gates between our worlds, freeing the demented Queen Morgana, required a Prince or Princess or a King or Queen to procreate with a halfling, creating a child that should never exist. I knew that. I wasn’t a halfling, but I also wasn’t exactly human anymore, was I? The King had given me the Summer Kiss, something that no one else knew. Well, no one who was alive. Aric had figured it out, but—
“Wait.” My brain had finally processed everything she’d said. “M-my child most likely wouldn’t be a halfling? It would be human?”
“No.” Luce leaned forward again, pressing the tips of her fingers together. “The child would most likely be completely fae.”
I opened my mouth, closed it, and then tried again. “How is that even possible? I’m human.” Mostly. “And he is fae. His genetics can’t cancel out mine.”
“Actually, for the King or for an Ancient, they would.”
I stared at her. “Does science mean nothing to you people?”
A faint smile appeared. “Only to a certain degree, Brighton. We are not human, and we are not bound by human science, biology, or genetics. We are far more superior than that.” A pause. “No offense meant.”
I blinked at her.
“This could explain why the pregnancy is still viable despite the trauma to your body,” Luce went on, a look of curiosity creeping across her face. “A child of a King would be incredibly strong, even at this stage and inside a human incubator.”
“Human incubator?” I repeated. “Can you please never
refer to me as that again?”
“Sorry.” She dipped her chin. “I know you are more than that. Sometimes my mind is far too…clinical for the comfort of others.”
“Really?” I said dryly.
Seeming to miss my sarcasm, she nodded. “The King being the father lessens some of my concerns over what risks you’ll face. I would even be willing to suggest that the pregnancy might continue to be viable.”
Viable.
I was beginning to dislike that word. I looked down, realizing I was still wearing the fluffy white robe. “What…? I mean, will this pregnancy be different from a normal one?”
Luce appeared to think that over. “It’s hard to say. Not many Ancients have impregnated a human before. But I can tell you what a pregnancy for a fae is like.”
Unsure if I really wanted to know, I nodded anyway.
“Pregnancy terms are about the same as humans. Nine months. Not many fae are born prematurely without there being a physical cause, like an injury,” she explained. “Most fae only experience sickness during the first two or so months.”
The vomiting spells were suddenly brought to a whole new light. I’d thought it had been the trauma and my stomach adjusting to food.
“The threat of miscarriage also usually only exists in the first two to three months,” she went on. “We are extremely lucky compared to human women in that sense.”
Yes, they were.
“The progression of the fetus is relatively the same as it is for a human.” Luce loosely clasped her hands together. “Come to think of it, our pregnancies are rather uneventful compared to humans’. I imagine yours will be too.”
I slowly became unaware that my hand was pressed to my lower stomach. I hadn’t realized that I’d even placed it there. My stomach felt flat—flatter than it had ever been.
Luce studied me like I was some strange creature she’d never come into contact with before. “You’re handling the news well.”
“I am?” A brittle laugh parted my lips. “I think it’s because none of this seems real, and I… after what I’ve gone through? I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve truly processed any of this.” My gaze shifted to the closed door. “It’s not like there’s anything I can do about it.”
“There are options, Brighton.”
My head jerked back to her.
“The same ones available to human women,” she added quietly.
Shock flickered through me. Not because of what she was suggesting. I was relieved to hear that fae women had a choice, but I was stunned that she would even bring it up, considering who the father was.
But then I thought of how her face had paled when she first asked if the King could be the father. “What will happen if the King doesn’t take a Queen?”
The only visible reaction was the tension around Luce’s mouth. “He would be dethroned, and since he’s ascended to the throne already, his brother would not be able to take it. We would be without a King.”
“And the entire Court would fail—would become vulnerable to the Winter fae,” I said.
Luce inhaled sharply through her nose and then nodded. “It would be very…catastrophic for all if that were to happen.”
Tatiana hadn’t lied.
Then again, I hadn’t thought she had.
“Is that why you’re telling me I have options?” I asked, knowing that Luce had no idea that Caden had already ended his engagement with Tatiana. “Because the child and I might get in the way of Caden marrying a fae?”
Her eyes widened slightly. “I’m letting you know you have options because, as a healer that is my duty. What I personally feel has no bearing on what you decide to do.”
I believed her. Luce seemed too, as she said, clinical “But do you think it will get in the way?”
“What I think is not a part of my duty, Brighton.”
“But what is happening could impact your future,” I persisted.
She looked away, lips pressing into a flat line. She was quiet for so long that I didn’t think she was going to answer. “I believe that our King knows how important it is to the entire Court. He will not fail us.”
My heart did a weird thing. It swelled because even knowing how important his duty was, the King had chosen me. Then it sank all the way to the pit of my stomach because he was going to fail them.
Her gaze slid back to mine. “Tatiana was here before I arrived. I imagine she has become more than aware of the King’s feelings for you. I do not believe he has spent more than a handful of minutes with her. I also imagine it was she who filled you in on what would happen if the King doesn’t choose a Queen.”
Seeing no point in lying, I nodded.
“Did she tell you that while some fae choose to be monogamous, we are accepting of relationships which do not start with one person and end with a second. Especially for someone like our King, whose duties may not align with his heart.”
“She did, but…” My mind was all over the place. “But you’re suggesting that Caden could marry a fae while keeping me and…and our child in the picture?”
“Yes. However, he would also need to provide an heir,” she said. Before I could question that, she added, “I’m sure your child with him will be a full-blooded fae, but only a child between the King and Queen would be recognized as a Prince or Princess.”
“This is some medieval bullshit nonsense,” I told her.
She lifted her hands helplessly. “Be that as it may, would that kind of arrangement be suitable to you?”
“Basically, being a mistress with a child that wouldn’t be recognized—”
“I am sure your son or daughter would be welcomed warmly and would be loved and taken care of,” she interceded. “We are not that medieval.”
Never in my life did I think to even answer a question like this. “No,” I said, and it rang true. “It’s not like I think unorthodox relationships are wrong. I couldn’t care less. It’s just not something I could do. I couldn’t even try.”
Luce opened her mouth and then closed it. Several moments passed. “You don’t have to decide anything right now.”
“But I do.” I closed my eyes briefly. “I mean, I already have. I will keep the b-baby.” I rose swiftly on unsteady legs, causing Luce’s gaze to turn wary. “I’m pro-choice and pro-mind your-own-business. But I can’t do that.”
And I couldn’t.
I looked down at the fluffy robe as a knot of raw emotion choked me. I was pregnant. This was my child. This was Caden’s child. Our child. And he or she would be the only thing I would have of Caden. A small, beautiful piece of him. Proof that our love for one another was real, even if we hadn’t the chance to explore it.
Because I could not risk the world.
Not even for love.
Chapter 2
Luce watched me as if she expected me to topple over at any second, which was possible. As I started to pace in front of the couch, I felt as if each step were as uncertain as a child learning to walk.
Something that I would have to help this child learn.
Oh God.
I would need to teach the child how to eat, brush their teeth, sit up, and—
“So, what are you going to do then?” Luce asked.
That was a good question. What was I going to do? Who could I even ask? I had very few friends, and none of them had any baby-making experience. But I knew I couldn’t stay. Leaving here would be hard. I’d never been anywhere before, but I would have to move. Where? No clue. I felt pretty confident that the Order would approve a transfer, especially after everything that had happened. Then what? I’d be a single mother to a full-blooded fae?
A single mom who may or may not lose control of her senses?
That would be problematic.
Rubbing my brow, I continued pacing. “I don’t know exactly what I’m doing, but I can’t…I can’t stay here.”
Her brows lifted. “During your pregnancy? I imagine that the King would want you to stay with him—”
&nbs
p; “Caden can’t know.” I stopped walking and lowered my hand.
Luce blinked once and then twice. “You’re not planning to tell him?”
My heart thumped against my chest. “No. I can’t.”
“Do you think he wouldn’t be receptive to news of a child? I don’t know him well at all—”
“No. It’s not that.” Honestly, I had no idea if he would be amenable or not. It wasn’t like we’d had a chance to talk about any of this.
She frowned. “I know this is shocking news, and on top of everything else. You have to be experiencing a lot of confusion.”
I was definitely feeling a decent amount of confusion, but I knew one thing for sure. Caden couldn’t know. “I’m not confused about this. He can’t know. You’re just like a human doctor. You told me that what I say to you and what my condition is stays between us. You won’t tell Caden.”
“I would never betray a patient’s trust by doing so, but I also won’t betray my King,” she stated, and pressure clamped down on my chest. “You want me to hide his child from him?”
The judgment and disbelief in her tone were evident. “You just said what you feel has no bearing,” I reminded her. “And you’re obviously feeling something right now.”
“You’re right.” Luce rose with the grace of a trained dancer. “But if you’re planning to keep this child, bring him or her into this world, you cannot expect me to keep that from the King.”
“But you would keep an abortion from him?” I challenged.
“I never said that.”
My mouth dropped open. “I don’t think you understand what patient-doctor confidentiality means.”
“And I don’t think you understand what being the subject of a King means.”
She was right. I didn’t. But that didn’t change anything. I needed to convince her to keep her mouth shut, and that wasn’t easy when I honestly had no idea what I was going to do. “Just give me a moment. I need to think.”
“You need to take more than a couple of moments, Brighton.”
The Queen: A Wicked Novella Page 2
