Chapter 8
She looked hurt and baffled. I wanted to open my mouth to explain.
“Idle gossip,” I whispered softly. She nodded.
I grappled with an emotion that was convoluted, but becoming more familiar by the day.
Feeling sorry for her and myself at the same time.
Wishing we could both be happy, but knowing we never could be at the same time.
I smiled at Maya, cleared my throat, and walked briskly into the break room.
“That’s enough,” I said coldly.
Laila and Elle both looked down toward their feet.
“Get back to work,” I said quickly. I spoke quietly in part because the nausea was threatening to overtake me. But my voice sounded tense and authoritative. They nodded and immediately exited the room.
I peered around the doorframe after they left and waved Maya into the break room. She collected her medicine from a cabinet, and I wordlessly offered her a cup for water.
She filled it, looking like she was about to cry.
“I feel so useless compared to you,” she said in a small voice. “Everyone hates me.”
I took a deep drink of my tea and sat at the table. Should I be feeling this tired? This nauseous? Already?
Or maybe it was just that I couldn’t handle all these fraught social interactions in my current state.
“They don’t hate you,” I said calmly. “It’s just because you’re new to the pack.”
She brightened as she took her pill and finished her water.
I stood to leave and she followed half a step behind.
She hesitated, then tried to loop her arm with mine as we walked toward the door.
I sidestepped around the doorframe, unlinking our arms swiftly and subtly. I hoped she’d think it was just to get out the doorway more easily.
But between the nausea, the need to reprimand the gossiping Deltas, and having to reassure Maya again, I couldn’t handle being touched right now.
I needed some time to myself, and I definitely needed some medication for nausea.
I was sure I would arouse suspicion if I went to one of the doctors near the pack house, or if I called the on-call pack doctor Hunter had sent away when Maya was first injured.
Besides, I could use the time away. Clear my head.
I felt like I could breathe more completely as I drove through the dense forest along the winding highway toward the city. The road went from two lanes to four to six, smog beginning to filter into my field of vision and traffic getting heavier.
It was noisy, with cars honking and bustling city noises coming into focus. But I felt more relaxed than I had in days.
Here, I could disappear. Be anonymous for at least a couple of hours.
I pulled up at a nondescript city hospital. It was right in the center of the downtown area, and slightly rundown. Nothing like the small, modern, state-of-the art facility where we’d been taken after the attack.
But I was fairly sure I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew here.
“Kara?” a kind looking nurse called just as I settled into the waiting room of the obstetrics wing.
She escorted me into a dim hallway where she had me stand on a scale, go to the bathroom to collect a urine sample, then sit on a sanitary paper-clad exam table while she took my temperature and blood pressure.
“How have you been feeling?” she asked. “Looks like this is your first official prenatal appointment? Congratulations.”
“Oh, um, thanks. Yeah, I was in the hospital after an accident, which is when I found out I was pregnant, but they only did some basic testing to check if the baby was okay.”
“Oh, you poor thing. We’ll get you checked out and feeling better.”
I warmed and sighed in relief. It felt odd and nice—like I was being taken care of for the first time in a long time.
She asked me more questions about my nausea and other symptoms, nodding sympathetically at everything, then telling me it would just be a few moments before the doctor was in to see me.
The doctor entered only a few minutes later. She was young but with long gray hair and dark, competent eyes.
“Kara, nice to meet you,” she said quickly. “My nurse tells me your symptoms are far beyond what they should be at this gestational age. Your bloodwork shows that your mate bond has been fluctuating recently. Even minor changes to the relationship can have significant impacts at this early stage. Is anything different lately?”
I swallowed heavily. I felt closer to tears than I had in days.
Between the kind attention of the nurse and doctor and being further away from the pack operations and my duties, it was like my emotions had room to operate again.
I spoke thickly:
“Well, my chosen mate recently found his fated mate. I’m guessing that has something to do with it.”
The doctor blinked and raised her eyebrows. She set down her clipboard and wheeled her stool closer to me.
She spoke urgently:
“That’s much more serious than I expected. It explains why you’re feeling this sick, this early.”
I swallowed again, mouth dry, and suppressed the urge to gag.
“Has he rejected you?” the doctor continued? She spoke softly, like she was trying to protect me. Make sure no one overheard.
“Not yet.”
“He must either reject the fated mate, or reject you. The limbo state you’re in is extremely dangerous. If nothing changes, your symptoms will only worsen, and it will lead to severe complications.”
I felt a despair that I’d never experienced before. It was like the heartbreak of Hunter not loving me, of him finding someone else, but exponentially worse.
It might mean that all of this would hurt not only me, but the pup as well.
There was no way he would ever reject Maya.
I would have to make him reject me formally, sooner than he planned to.
Which would break my heart.
The doctor gave me a few moments, then turned to her prescription pad, scribbling something then tearing it off and handing it to me.
“Take those medications,” she said kindly. “They’ll help with the symptoms. But remember it will only be temporary relief. The symptoms will only worsen the further along you get if your mate bond remains in this state.”
I took a deep breath before walking into Hunter’s office, nervous to see him.
I’d been avoiding him since the doctor’s appointment.
I couldn’t figure out how to get him to reject me formally without revealing the reason I was asking.
And he couldn’t know about the pregnancy.
“I need to check with you about the schedule for next month,” I said from the doorway.
“Yes, come in, sit down,” he said brusquely, looking up from the papers he’d been immersed in. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”
I sat and looked across the large mahogany desk at him.
“Have the Deltas been showing any dissatisfaction with Maya lately?” he asked.
“Nothing significant,” I replied. “Mild gossip, which I’ve stopped whenever I see it. They just don’t feel the special treatment you’ve given her has been entirely fair.”
His face darkened.
“Are you complaining about me assigning Maya to you? Because if you are—”
I cut across him. I didn’t need to hear.
“I’m simply stating facts.”
He laughed, but the sound was cold and hollow.
“That’s fine. Have Maya join the preparation for the new member initiation ceremony you’re in charge of, so she can interact more with the other pack members.”
I sighed. If he was trying to fix things, he was doing it the wrong way. New members shouldn’t be involved in the preparation for their own initiations.
The ceremonies were a crucial part of my responsibilities, in which new members swore allegiance to the Alpha and became fully-fledged members of the pack.
“It violates pack rules to have her involved—”
“Kara, I have complete faith in your abilities. Just do this for me? I know you can handle it.”
