Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 35

POV: Sylvie

I watched Seraphina crumble. It was a beautiful sight, like a statue finally cracking under pressure. She knelt there in the grass, her face ashen, looking utterly, finally defeated. And it was all thanks to my perfect little Nico. He was such a clever boy, a perfect vessel for the truths I had so carefully taught him. He ran back to me, his small face alight with the pride of a job well done, and I pulled him into a hug, my eyes still fixed on the pathetic woman he had just destroyed.

"Did I do good, Sylvie?" Nico whispered, his voice muffled against my dress. "I said what you told me to."

"You did wonderfully, my sweet boy," I murmured, stroking his dark, silky hair. My mind, however, was racing, picking apart the scene that had just unfolded, analyzing every word, every nuance. Seraphina's question was… odd. Bizarre, even. A little brother or sister? It was such a desperate, pathetic attempt to connect with the son she had so clearly lost. But there was something more to it, a strange, frantic undercurrent that set my teeth on edge. Why that question? Why now?

Then, Nico's next words sent a jolt of pure ice through my veins. "She's been acting weird all morning. And she smells funny. Like old leaves and… and worry."

Smells funny. My inner wolf, usually a calm, purring creature content with its place, stirred with a sudden, sharp anxiety. I scanned Seraphina from head to toe. The loose-fitting, drab dresses she had taken to wearing, the slight pallor under her skin that wasn't just from misery, the way she had been turning down wine at dinner for the past few weeks. And now, this sudden, desperate question about a baby. The pieces began to click into place with a horrifying, sickening certainty.

No. It was impossible. It couldn't be.

The thought was so catastrophic it almost made me gasp. Pregnant. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, trapped bird. A child. A true-born heir from the mated Luna. That was the one thing, the only thing, that could unravel everything I had worked so hard to build. Damian was mine—his heart, his bed, his future. Nico was mine—his loyalty, his love. This house, the title of Matron, the future role of Luna—it was all within my grasp.

As I approached, I saw her hand move, a small, unconscious gesture, to rest protectively over her lower stomach.

And in that instant, I knew. It was true.

My smile was a mask of sweet, sisterly concern, but behind it, my mind was a whirlwind of cold, sharp, and wonderfully vicious possibilities.

"Seraphina, darling," I cooed, stopping just a few feet away from her. "You look so pale. Is everything alright?"