Kael didn't sleep.
He sat in the wooden chair beside my bed, back straight, muscles tight. His eyes never left me, though I couldn't meet him.
The fire cracked low in the hearth, casting shadows across his face. He hadn't shaved. His jaw was rough, his eyes darker than I remembered like a forest before a storm.
"I didn't know," he said at last.
I didn't answer.
"I didn't know you were carrying my child."
"You didn't care to ask."
My voice came out steady, but my hands trembled under the blanket.
Kael looked away, jaw clenched.
"I thought you left because of me."
"I did."
His head lowered, as if the words were too heavy.
I stared at the ceiling, willing my heart to harden. I didn't want to feel anything for him anymore. Not the pain. Not the warmth. Not the familiar ache that still tied me to him, despite everything.
"I didn't expect this," he whispered. "To find you like this. Bleeding. Alone."
I turned toward him slowly. "And what did you expect? That I'd wait around while you kissed her in front of the whole pack?"
He flinched. The truth always had teeth.
"I made a mistake," he said.
"More than one."
Kael rubbed a hand down his face, eyes burning with regret. "I know I hurt you."
"You didn't just hurt me," I said. "You broke me. You chose Selene. You stood beside her in the Alpha trials. You let the pack believe I was nothing."
"That's not what I"
"You didn't stop them," I cut in. "You didn't protect me."
He stood, running a hand through his hair.
"I didn't know how to fight what I felt," he said. "For you. For the pack. For what was expected of me."
I scoffed. "You were the Alpha, Kael. You could've chosen anything. You chose her."
He stepped closer, kneeling by the bed again. His voice dropped. "And I lost everything because of it."
His words hung in the air, soft and raw.
I turned away, staring at the fire.
He didn't speak again.
Just sat there, watching over me like a man guarding a grave.
Callen came in the next morning with a bowl of soup and a tight expression.
"Try to eat," he said, setting the tray on the bedside table. His eyes flicked to Kael. "She still needs rest."
Kael nodded silently.
Callen didn't look pleased.
After he left, I sipped slowly, the broth warm but tasteless.
Kael moved to the window, arms folded. Outside, the village stirred. Children ran through puddles. Vendors called over carts of fruit and meat.
Everything looked normal.
But nothing felt the same.
"I remember when we were sixteen," Kael said suddenly. "You punched me in the jaw for making fun of your braids."
I blinked. "You deserved it."
"I know. I still have the scar."
I didn't answer.
His voice softened. "You always stood up for yourself. For others. Even when it costs you."
"And you stopped standing up for me."
Silence again.
I couldn't tell if he had anything left to say or just didn't know how to say it.
By the third day, I was strong enough to walk again.
Kael insisted on helping, but I pushed his hands away.
"I can manage."
"You're still pale," he said.
"I've been paler."
He stayed close as I moved from the bed to the wooden bench by the fire. My knees wobbled, but I made it.
"You're stubborn," he muttered.
"I had to be."
He lowered himself to the floor across from me. We stared at the flames.
"I kept the dress," he said. "The one you wore to the Spring Festival. Yellow. You hated it."
"I did. You said it made me look like sunshine."
He smiled faintly. "You were the only light in that place."
I didn't know what to say.
Memories flooded back bonfires and moonlight dances, stolen kisses behind the training halls, whispered dreams of escape.
And then they all cracked like broken glass beneath Selene's heel.
"I asked you once," I said slowly, "what your heart wanted. You never answered."
Kael looked up.
"I was afraid," he said.
"Of me?"
"Of loving you."
I blinked.
"I'd never loved anyone before," he said. "Not really. You were wild. Honest. You saw through me. You made me feel things I couldn't control."
"You choose safety over truth."
"I chose weakness over courage."
My throat tightened.
Kael leaned forward. "I know I can't take it back. I know I failed you. But I want to fix what I broke."
"It's not that easy."
"I know."
"And what about her?"
He exhaled. "Selene left."
"Because of me?"
"Because she knew I was never really hers."
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"And the baby?"
He looked at my belly, reverent.
"I want to know everything. The cravings. The kicks. The dreams. I want to be there if you'll let me."
I didn't speak.
Not yet.
Because part of me still didn't believe him.
That night, I had a dream.
The baby was in my arms, swaddled in soft cloth. Kael stood beside me, eyes shining with pride. We were in a field of wildflowers. The sun was warm. A breeze stirred the petals.
And then the dream turned dark.
The field burned. Smoke rose. The baby cried. Kael was gone.
I woke up with a start.
Sweat soaked my shirt.
Kael sat upright in the chair, eyes wide. "Are you alright?"
"Just a dream."
He leaned in, brushing hair from my face. "Tell me."
"No."
I turned away.
Because I didn't want him inside my dreams. Not yet.
Not when I still feared waking to ashes.
The healer from the village visited the next morning.
She was old, hunched, eyes sharp as a hawk's.
She examined my belly, muttered something in a language I didn't know, then nodded.
"Healthy," she said. "But born of storm and shadow."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
She looked between me and Kael.
"Fate has tangled you two," she said. "Knotted deep. If it unravels again, the child will suffer."
Kael's hand found mine, steady.
I pulled away.
The old woman chuckled. "Takes more than shared blood to build a future."
She left us sitting in silence.
We stayed one more week.
Callen eventually stopped glaring at Kael, but the tension never fully lifted.
I could see the questions in Callen's eyes. He never asked them. But he watched Kael with the wariness of a man guarding treasure.
And maybe I was that.
A treasure Kael had lost and wanted back.
But I wasn't sure if I wanted to be found.
One afternoon, I walked to the edge of the forest behind the healer's house.
Kael followed at a distance.
The wind was soft through the trees. Leaves whispered overhead.
"You still love me," he said.
I didn't deny it.
"But that's not the same as trusting you."
He nodded. "Then let me earn it."
"How?"
"Day by day."
I turned to face him.
"You broke my heart, Kael."
"I know."
"And part of me still hates you for it."
"I hate myself for it too."
My chest ached.
"I want our child to have a father," I said. "But I won't beg for love again."
"You won't have to."
His words didn't promise perfection.
But they carried weight.
Maybe more than I was ready to admit.
That night, I let him touch my belly for the first time without pulling away.
The baby kicked.
Kael's eyes filled with tears.
He kissed my stomach.
And for the first time in months, I let myself feel something I thought I'd lost forever.
Hope.