Page 4 of Of Wolves and Wives

A fine sweat breaks out on my forehead as I find it harder and harder to put one foot in front of the other. Every part of me aches, misery my constant companion as we finally stop in front of a large wooden door.

Judging by how long it took for us to get here, I can only assume that we must have entered another part of the castle. Though that may only be due to my current state of mobility, or rather, lack thereof.

“This is my wing of the castle,” Helena says as she opens the door to reveal a large bedroom. “Here you’ll have every comfort that can be afforded you. Should you need anything, simply ask and it will be given you.”

I try my best to give her a half-smile as Mistress Thompson helps me into the room, but I’m sure it comes off as more of a grimace than anything pleasant.

The room itself is a far cry from the hall I first slept in with the other women, my mates’ rooms, or even the Grey Prince’s bedchambers. A fire has recently been lit and is already roaring to life as it fills the room with heat. Heavy rugs line the floor to a large bed that now looks far too inviting with its mountain of bright white pillows and sheets.

A pair of large glass doors on the far wall lead out to a small balcony overlooking the mountains and part of the valley far below.

Mistress Thompson drags me along as she helps me to the bed, and Helena moves to open the balcony doors, letting a welcome breeze into the room.

Settling against the pillows, I let out a heavy sigh of relief. If I must be trapped here, at least I’ll be comfortable.

Until the baby comes.Ifthe baby comes at all. I still have to survive the pregnancy and the birth, either of which could be our undoing.

Swallowing down my worries with my body’s next wave of nausea, I force these thoughts out of my mind. I can worry about that when the time comes.

Helena steps toward the bed, glancing between me and Mistress Thompson.

“Are you absolutely certain she’s with child?” Helena whispers, uncertainty worrying the beauty of her face.

She doesn’t answer for a long moment, before nodding slowly.

“I believe so; however, I would like to check to make sure the babe has taken.”

“Of course, do what you must.”

Helena moves to the foot of the bed as Mistress Thompson’s icy hands pull the ruined dress up to my waist. Shivering against her touch, I tear my eyes away only to meet Heath’s gaze over Helena’s shoulder where he stands in the doorway.

Concern is painted across his face as he searches my face. Something about seeing him there has a strange sense of calm settling over me, even as my body is poked and prodded by Mistress Thompson.

Finally, after several minutes and what I can only assume is the rearranging of my insides, she yanks my dress back down and steps back.

“Well?” Helena presses.

“The babe has taken,” Mistress Thompson says, sounding as surprised as I do relieved. “Despite her illness, it seems to be healthy, too. However, I suggest we try various foods and potions until we find something she can keep down ... otherwise, I cannot say for how much long she or the baby will survive.”

My eyes flicker back to Heath, and I see relief flood his eyes at the news. Still, he doesn’t move, neither to enter the room or step back into the hall to stand guard … and I’m thankful for it.

I’m amazed at what a balm his mere presence seems to be to my soul. Mere hours ago, I’d thought him dead, tortured and murdered by the prince himself. I’d nearly given up, my hope shattered at the very thought.

Now, I wish nothing more than to have him wrap his arms around me. To tell me everything is going to be okay. To promise me that I’ll survive this.

That we’ll survive this.

Helena suddenly claps her hands together, drawing my attention back to her. She looks thrilled at the news that I’ll survive, though I suspect it has more to do with the child than me.

“Rest will be her best medicine,” Mistress Thompson says. “Though I suggest the girl is taken out for a walk each day. The fresh air and exercise will do the babe a world of good. But for the time being, she must rest.”

Helena steps around the bed to stand by my side. Her eyes shine with a strange warmth as she reaches out to squeeze my shoulder.

“First, I’ll have her bathed. Then fed, the poor thing looks ready to pass out. She must be clothed too. Nothing but the best. Then, she can rest.”

“I don’t think—”

“At once,” Helena barks.

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