Page 201 of Rogue Alpha Prince

“Mhmm,” he purrs back, and I try to anchor the calm feeling I know his body and scent can give me.

I pull my head back to look at him confused, “You smell… different.”

“You too,” he says with a sexy, amused smile.

“No, I mean it. You smell bad.”

He chuckles at that, “Of course, I smell bad. I was laying down with you for five days almost non-stop, and the last few days were full wolf.”

He was? I get this overwhelming feeling of gratitude, so I lean and kiss him because I know that’s his love language.

With my chapped lips. It instantly makes me concentrate on healing them. I know it won’t last long if I don’t drink a gallon of water, but still.

“Nice trick,” he murmurs against my brand-new lips and tightens his hold on my body. “Can you—”

I look into his eyes, knowing what he thoughtlessly wanted to ask, and for a second there, I catch a glimpse of sadness in them.

I shake my head, “I can’t concentrate on that because I… I can’t think of that.”

I think we both realize at this point that my inability to speed-heal the insides of my abdomen is effectively blocking the process at all.

Cain opens the doors of our bedroom and steps inside kicking it back shut after us. He stops abruptly before the bed, and I follow his intense gaze.

The black newborn bodysuit is spread on the bed exactly as I left it there before investigating Cain’s absence.

He really was with me the whole time without coming here even for a moment.

I close my eyes as if it could stop the overwhelming pain burning deep in my soul.

They say a hero would sacrifice you to save the world and a villain would sacrifice the world to save you. I thought I was a hero when I married Cain, but it turned out I was just the villain.

I marched the whole army for you, risked their lives for you, left all others with a Rogue King for you…

“It’s my fault. I chose you over—” That unbearable new realization is stuck in my throat like a painful lump, and I can’t end this sentence.

“I chooseyou too,” he says quietly. “I can have more kids; I can’t have more of you.”

The thought of any more kids when I can’t have that one, only enhances my excruciating pain.

It makes me desperately hug him with all my strength, like holding to something physical would help me hold on to myself. He squeezes me back and burrows his head in the crook of my neck.

I can’t even be mad at him for saying that to me because it was ultimately what I showed him.I can have more kids; I can’t have more of him.

Except, I can’t have more kids. Not in this state. Maybe never.

And it feels appropriate for my sin.

The self-punishment, if you will.

I’m gently laid down on the bed under the covers, and I reluctantly let go of Cain when he whispers to wait for him. I look after him. He pulls on some black jersey shorts on his naked ass and looks at his phone that was left in the desk’s top drawer. He rubs his temples with his thumb and pointer finger of his right hand before finally stepping in front of the bed and looking at the tiny bodysuit again.

He picks it up. The biggest man I’ve ever seen holding the tiny piece of fabric that barely covers his hand. I soak this bittersweet moment up with a sad smile.

“Claudia bought it for me, and I thought it would help me break the news,” I feel unsure.

“It’s the tiniest and cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says smiling, and then looks up at me. “Do you want to keep it?”

“Would you want to keep it? The fetus, I mean.”

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