Seraphina’s POV
I gripped the marble countertop in our bathroom, my knuckles white against the cold surface. A wave of nausea rolled through me, making my vision blur at the edges. I closed my eyes tight and waited for it to pass.
Time had passed since the wedding celebration and Roxanne’s ceremony. Everything should have been perfect. Theo and Elena were thriving. Julian and I had never been stronger.
Yet something felt wrong inside my body. My head pounded with a dull ache that wouldn’t fade. The rich aroma of my morning coffee, once a comfort, now smelled rotten and made my stomach revolt. And that familiar queasiness, the one I knew so well from carrying the twins, had returned with a vengeance.
Terror crawled up my spine.
I forced myself back into the bedroom where Julian sat pulling on his boots. When he looked up, his expression shifted instantly. Being an Alpha meant he could sense my fear like a physical presence. He could hear how my heart hammered against my ribs.
"Seraphina? You look like you’ve seen a ghost," he said, rising to his feet and moving toward me.
"Just exhausted," I said, the lie bitter on my tongue. I stepped around him toward the window, focusing on the tree line beyond the glass.
His disbelief was obvious. He came up behind me and circled his arms around my waist.
His chin settled on my shoulder, and when his palms pressed against my stomach, I jerked away like I’d been burned. I couldn’t help myself.
The silence stretched between us. Julian’s arms hung at his sides, and when I turned to face him, confusion and pain clouded his features.
"Seraphina? What did I do wrong?"
"Nothing! You didn’t do anything," I said, my words coming out shaky and rushed. "I just need some space to think."
I bolted from the room before he could respond. My feet carried me deep into the forest until I found myself pressed against the rough bark of an ancient pine. The clean scent of evergreen and damp earth filled my lungs.
My hand drifted to my abdomen. If a new life was growing there, shouldn’t I feel joy? I was a capable mother. The children had an incredible father. We could provide everything a baby could need.
Instead, ice-cold panic was all I felt.
The following days passed in a haze of uncertainty. I watched the minutes tick by. I monitored every sensation in my body. Each bout of sickness brought tears to my eyes. Every small cramp made me hope desperately that my body was telling me I wasn’t carrying a child.
Theo and Elena meant everything to me. They were my greatest gifts. But there was a wound in my heart that I rarely acknowledged.
That afternoon in the garden, the truth became clear. The symptoms were disappearing. The weight pressing on my chest had lifted, and my body felt normal again, which meant I’d simply been fighting off illness.
I wasn’t pregnant.
A shuddering breath escaped me. I shouldn’t have felt such relief washing over me. But I did. At the same time, a sharp sadness cut through me, bringing tears to my eyes. I sank onto the soft grass and buried my face in my hands.
"Seraphina?"
I hadn’t heard his approach. Julian stood before me looking like he hadn’t rested in days. He saw my tears and didn’t wait for permission this time. He dropped down beside me and gathered me into his lap, cradling me like I might shatter.
"Tell me what’s happening," he murmured. "Please. I’ve watched you avoid me for days. I’ve seen you stare at your stomach with terror in your eyes. I thought you might be pregnant. And I thought the idea of having my baby filled you with dread."
I met his gaze, my heart splintering. "No, Julian. That’s not it. I figured out today that I’m not pregnant. It was just a false alarm."
Julian’s eyes closed briefly, and I caught what looked like disappointment flickering across his face. "All right. So why the tears? Why were you so frightened?"
I clutched his shirt in my fists. The truth had been festering inside me, and I had to let it out. "I’m not ready, Julian," I choked out. "I’m not prepared mentally or emotionally to be a mother again. When I thought I might be pregnant, all I could think about was the baby I lost."
Julian went completely still, not even breathing.
"In my heart," I went on, the words pouring out like they’d been dammed up too long, "it feels like having another baby would mean replacing the one who died. Like I’d be saying that child didn’t matter because I could just create a new one. I never want to do that. I don’t want a substitute baby, Julian. I want the one I lost, and they’re never coming back."
Julian’s arms tightened around me. He pressed his face into my neck, and I felt his tears mixing with mine.
"I’m so sorry," he said against my skin. "I’m sorry I caused you that agony. Seraphina, look at me." He pulled back and cupped my face in his palms.
"You could never replace a soul," he said with conviction. "Every child is unique. But I get it. I understand your heart is still mending. I got so caught up in our happiness that I forgot you’re still carrying the wounds from what I did to you."
"There’s more," I said, my voice unsteady. "I need you to really hear this, Julian. It’s crucial."
He nodded, his attention completely focused on me.
"I don’t want another baby now," I said. "And I’m not sure my feelings will ever change. Theo and Elena are my everything, and they’re enough. But I know the pack expects us to have a large family. I need to know if you’ll be okay if we never have more children. Will you still love me if it’s just the four of us forever?"
Julian didn’t pause to consider. He didn’t hesitate for even a heartbeat. He leaned forward and kissed me with gentle intensity, like he was making a vow.
"Seraphina," he said, his voice unwavering. "I didn’t marry you because I wanted dozens of children. I married you because you’re my soul. You’re my mate. Even if we’d never had Theo and Elena, I would still choose you. If it’s just you and me in a tiny cottage for the next century, I’ll be the luckiest man who ever lived."
"But the pack expects—"
"The pack has their Luna," he cut me off. "They have their future Alphas in Theo and Elena. They have everything they need. And I have everything I need right here."
He rested his forehead against mine. "I never want you to feel like you have to put on a show for me. I don’t want you thinking your worth depends on how many children you can bear. You’ve survived war, Seraphina. You’ve saved two packs. You’ve earned the right to simply exist as you are."
"Thank you, Julian," I whispered.
"Don’t thank me for loving you," he said. "Just promise me something."
"Anything."
"Talk to me," he said. "No more hiding away to cry alone. If you’re hurting, we’ll hurt together. If you’re afraid, I’ll hold your hand until the fear fades. We’re partners, Seraphina. Always."
"Always," I promised.