Chapter 14

(Third-person POV)

Sandy started making her way through the room, brushing past people rudely in her efforts to reach the table with the mysterious woman. She needed to see her face. She needed to quiet that nagging voice in the back of her mind wondering, Could it really be Julia?

Before she could get to the far side of the room, Sandy was surprised to see Ronan stalking through the ball room. He moved quickly to the table with the mystery woman, who really did look like Julia from the back, and put his arms under her.

Ronan scooped the woman into his arms, holding her like a groom would carry his bride over the threshold, and began making his way to the other side of the room. While this move looked playful, Sandy was surprised to see a worried expression on Ronan’s face.

She watched Ronan and the woman go, almost in shock at the strange scene that had just taken place. After a few seconds, Bianca approached her, handing her a glass of champagne. “Who was that?” Sandy asked, taking a sip of the alcohol.

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Ronan’s mysterious mate. He’s being ridiculous about her, but it’s probably just some weird power move.” Sandy’s eyes widened. “That was Ronan’s Luna?” Bianca scoffed. “Yes? God, you work at PackHouse and you haven’t even seen his mate?”

She shook her head, a sour expression on her face. “I don’t know why I let you convince me you had anything to offer. Clearly, you’re useless.”

“Well, clearly, I’m not as well-connected as you are,” Sandy said, hoping her empty flattery would distract Bianca from the fact that she really didn’t know as much as she pretended to. “I mean, you have access to so many powerful people. I knew Ronan had a Luna, but I heard he’s been keeping it pretty private.”

Inwardly, Sandy felt herself relax. She really had thought that woman was Julia, but after finding out that was Ronan’s Luna…well, there was no way her boring sister was mate to the Alpha.

“I have a new proposition for you.” Sandy took another sip of champagne, steeling her nerves for her next pitch to Bianca. “Oh?” Bianca raised an eyebrow. Sandy continued, “You want information on Ronan’s mate, right?”

“I suppose,” Bianca replied, trying and failing to sound casual. “Alright,” Sandy said. “I can get that information. I’ll find out everything I can about the Luna and pass it all along to you.” Bianca frowned. “And what do you want in return?”

Sandy smiled. “Not much. Just your support.” She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I plan on becoming Ronan’s official Beta, and I want you behind me. Do we have a deal?” Bianca thought for a moment, then held out her hand. Sandy took it, and the pair shook. “We have a deal,” Bianca said.

(Julia’s POV)

I had finished off the plate of food Ronan had gotten for me quickly; the pregnancy was still making me hungrier than ever. As I watched the people around me socializing, I absentmindedly scratched at my arm.

Huh. Weird. I looked down and was surprised to see a small red rash on my arm. It was strange, but it didn’t look too serious. I had probably rubbed it against some rough fabric when I was trying on all those clothes at the boutique earlier.

But I was feeling tired, and I hoped to slip out of the party quietly and head home for some much-needed rest. “I think it might be time for me to go home,” I told the Gamma. “It’s no big deal, but I’ve got this rash on my arm that I want to take care of. I don’t want to bother Ronan, though. I think I’ll just sneak out, and talk to him tomorrow.”

Alex frowned. “You really shouldn’t leave without Ronan.” I opened my mouth to argue, but Alex interrupted, saying, “Julia, I mean it. Tell Ronan you’re leaving before you go.” I sighed, but I was too tired to start a fight with Alex.

Instead, I sent a mindlink message to Ronan: Hey, I think I’m going to go home. I started getting this weird rash on my arm and I just want to go home, put some lotion on it, and go to sleep. Is that alright with you?

I watched Ronan from across the room, waiting for him to acknowledge my mindlink and wave me off for the night. Instead, he frowned and immediately began making his way towards me. He looked really and truly worried. All this over a little rash on my arm?

Once he got to the table, Ronan gently grabbed my arm, inspecting the affected area. He really looked concerned and, in spite of myself, I felt oddly touched. I wasn’t used to being looked after like this. It was nice.

“Do you think it’s an allergic reaction?” he asked, finally looking up and meeting my eyes. “I don’t think so,” I said slowly. “I mean, it shouldn’t be. I didn't eat or touch anything odd or new.” Ronan looked back down at my arm, then suddenly scooped me up into his arms.

“Ronan, what are you doing?” I hissed, conscious of causing a scene. “We’re going to the hospital,” he said shortly, carrying me through the crowd and out the doors. “I want a doctor to look at your arm, and the sooner, the better.”

He carried me to the car, putting me gently into the back and getting in beside me. Ronan told the driver to take us straight to the hospital, then pulled my arm back into his grasp. I tried not to gasp when I saw that the small rash had gotten bigger, spreading further up my arm.

Without thinking, I tried to scratch the growing patch of dry, red skin, but Ronan’s hand wrapped around my wrist in an iron-grip. “Stop that,” he growled. I tried, but a few seconds later, my hand went to the rash again.

In response, Ronan pulled me into his lap, wrapping his arms around my body and holding me firmly. “What did I say?” he asked, sounding exasperated. “Don’t scratch.” I wriggled in his grasp, but knew it was no use. Ronan’s large, muscular arms were more than a match for my own strength.

“You know, you’ll thank me for this later,” he grumbled. “Why?” I asked. “Because if this is almond-related — and I’m fairly certain it is,” Ronan said. “You’ll scar if you scratch.” I asked, “How do you know?” Ronan rolled his eyes. “Because I’ve been through it. Is that a good enough answer for you?”

Before I could ask more questions, the car came to a stop and Ronan carried me out and into the hospital. We walked right past the waiting room — the perks of being with an Alpha — and a doctor came to the room we were in right away.

She inspected my arm carefully, turning it this way and that. Finally, the doctor said, “Yes, Ronan, I think you’re right. This rash was caused by an almond allergy.” I gaped at her. “But how is that possible? I’m not allergic to almonds. At least, I never was before.”

“It’s not uncommon in pregnancies,” she said, smiling kindly at me. “Your baby inherited a genetic trait from the father, and that trait is now causing a temporary reaction in your body. There’s no cause for concern. In fact, this is actually good news. It means the baby is healthy, and strong enough to influence your body like this.”

She started for the door, saying, “Let me go talk to the pharmacy and get you set up with an ointment that should take care of that rash. I’ll be back shortly.” With that, the doctor was gone, leaving Ronan and me alone.

I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t say anything, but no such luck. “Julia,” Ronan said slowly, his voice dangerously calm. “Why does the pup carry my genetic trait?”