the palace halls.
And now he’s giving me shit?
Silas claps me on the shoulder, laughing. “About time you got laid. Four years is a long time without a nice, warm pussy.”
“Shut up, Silas.” I pour myself a cup of coffee.
Silas throws his hands up as he backs away, grinning. He sinks into a chair and stretches out, wrinkling his nose when a waiter offers him eggs and bacon. I guess bourbon is the breakfast of champions in Silas’ world.
Jonah glances at me from across the room, trying to read my mood. How could he, though? How could he know what thoughts are going through my mind?
I’m here with my brothers, with my sister, in the castle where we spend most of our time. Things, from the outside, are exactly as they were a couple of months ago.
But I feel different. Deep in my gut, I know I’ve changed. My steps aren’t as heavy. My spine is straighter. When I wake up, I don’t feel the dark sense of dread that kept me down for four years. My grief isn’t quite as painful as it was before, and a thin seed of hope has sprouted in my heart.
…but for what? For who? For me to date Rowan, officially? My sister the Queen didn’t seem too happy about that, and her word is law around here.
But, but, but… what if?
Who says we can’t be together?
As I listen to my brothers, I try to let my thoughts drift away from the red-haired goddess who has occupied them for the better part of the past two months. I won’t let the media tear her to shreds the way they did to Abby. I won’t let her be exposed and dissected by the public. If she’s with me, I’ll protect her. I’ll do what I couldn’t do before, even if it kills me.
After breakfast, I’m already waiting in Rowan’s office when she arrives.
“Come here, beautiful,” I growl, reaching for her hand.
Rowan stiffens, letting me pull her into my chest but not wrapping her arms around me or tilting her head up for a kiss.
Something’s off. A cold jet of ice water shoots down my spine.
I frown. “What’s wrong? Was your appointment okay?”
She gulps. “It was…” She shakes her head. “Yeah, it was fine.”
Her eyes don’t meet mine. I frown.
“Is this about the article? We have the royal media team dealing with it. They’ll probably get most of the articles taken down and threaten newspapers with lawsuits for making up those stories, citing slander. It’ll all blow over. It’s just because the memorials were a couple of weeks ago, and this is the first time I’ve been seen with anyone.”
Rowan lets out a snort, shaking her head. “That’s the problem, Wolfe. I’m just a controversy. I’m the sad, desperate woman trying to fill your dead fiancée’s shoes. I’m the outsider who doesn’t belong. I’m someone you keep secret from your family and friends and the media—”
“The media are animals,” I snap. “They tore Abby to shreds even when they pretended to love her. I won’t let them do that to you.”
“It’s not about that, Wolfe,” Rowan says. Her shoulders stiffen as she drops her chin. Taking a finger, I tilt her head back up to meet her eye. Her bottom lip trembles.
“What is it, Rowan?” My voice is soft. My heart is breaking. This relationship will end—I just know it. I thought we could make it official? I thought I could protect her? Who was I kidding?
Rowan takes a step back, splaying her hands on my chest as she pushes me away. She drops her arms and takes a breath, lifting her eyes to mine.
“I’m pregnant, Wolfe. It’s yours, and I’m keeping it.”
26
Rowan
My life changed twelve hours ago. As soon as the doctor told me I was with child, it felt like everything I thought I knew just vanished from my mind. The future I saw for myself, gone. The priorities I’ve upheld for a decade…just, poof!
I’m having a baby. I want to have a baby. I’m terrified, of course, but there’s a deep well of love already flowing inside me.
Ever since I came to Nord, I’ve been wondering if I missed something from life. I’ve tried so hard to be independent, to work my way to financial stability, to not be a burden on anyone—I’ve missed the connections that make life worth living.
I know I can’t have that connection with the Prince. He’s royalty. Having a child out of wedlock would be frowned upon, to say