"Tell Sebastian this is just the beginning." Those were the last words they said before leaving.
Their voices echoed in my mind as I lay on the cold ground, barely able to move. Every part of my body hurt, my ribs felt like they were on fire, my arms were bruised, and the cuts on my face stung. But none of that compared to the ache deep in my chest, the heaviness that wouldn’t go away.
It took everything I had to get up. Each step felt like I was dragging a hundred pounds as I made my way to the pack physician. By the time I reached the clinic, I collapsed into a chair.
The room smelled strange, like antiseptic mixed with herbs. It made my stomach turn, but I didn’t have the strength to care.
The physician, an older man with a soft gaze, didn’t ask any questions. He just sighed, grabbed his tools, and started cleaning my wounds. His touch was gentle, but even that made me flinch.
I tried to block everything out, to focus on the ceiling or the dull ache in my arms. But then he said something that shattered me completely.
“You were about a month pregnant,” he murmured, his voice so low it was almost like he didn’t want me to hear. “The trauma… it was too much. We couldn’t save the baby.”
At first, I couldn’t process his words. Pregnant? Baby? I wasn’t even aware. My mind spun, and I gripped the edge of the chair to keep myself from falling apart.
“I… didn’t know,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
The physician didn’t say anything else. He finished bandaging me up, gave my shoulder a comforting pat, and left the room.
I sat there in silence, staring at the floor. Time passed, but I didn’t move. The pain in my body didn’t matter anymore. It was the emptiness inside me that hurt the most.
When I finally made it home, the house felt lifeless. The silence wrapped around me, heavy and oppressive. I dropped onto the couch, leaving the lights off. The darkness suited my mood.
The sound of the door opening startled me. Sebastian walked in, his presence commanding as always. He carried a bottle of expensive wine in one hand and a sleek black case in the other. His suit jacket hung over his arm, and his tie was slightly undone.
He didn’t say anything to me. He tossed the case onto the table and loosened his tie. His scent filled the room, sweat and blood, sharp and overwhelming, a constant reminder of the ruthless life he led as an Alpha.
Meanwhile, I sat on the couch, barely upright, feeling more like a shadow than a person. My side ached, the stitches pulling with every tiny movement. The bandages around my belly were fresh, but they couldn’t dull the pain in my heart.
Sebastian didn’t even notice me at first. He poured himself a drink, the clink of the bottle against the glass cutting through the silence.
“Did you eat?” he asked, his tone cold and distant, like he was talking to an unruly child.
I didn’t answer right away. My fingers traced the edge of the couch cushion, trying to steady myself. He stood there, waiting, his face unreadable, his eyes cold.
Finally, I sighed and pulled up my shirt just enough to show him the neat stitches running across my side. Words weren’t needed. The silence said it all.
"The doctor said I need to avoid certain foods," I said flatly, my voice as empty as I felt.
Sebastian’s eyes flickered for a second, his gaze landing on the bandage. He didn’t linger, though. Instead, his brows furrowed slightly, as if the sight of it annoyed him more than anything else.
"Then make something that suits you," he said dismissively, like that solved everything.
I nodded, not because I agreed but because it was easier than arguing. I grabbed my phone and began scrolling for a delivery app. My thumb hovered over the screen, not really focusing on the options. My stomach growled, but I couldn’t tell if it was hunger or just nausea.
Sebastian didn’t care. He knocked back half his drink in one go, his movements smooth, controlled. He didn’t ask what had happened earlier. He didn’t ask about the pain, the message, the loss. It was as if he had walked into a different house, one where nothing was wrong.
I ordered the first thing I saw on the app without bothering to check if it matched the doctor’s restrictions. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
The silence dragged on. Sebastian poured himself another drink, his back turned to me. The weight of the day settled on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I didn’t know what to say, and it seemed like he didn’t either.
But then he stopped. His glass, mid-air, hung as he turned slightly to glance at me. Something shifted in his expression, just enough to notice.
"Is your next check-up in three days?" he asked, his voice quieter this time. "Do you need someone to go with you?"
