My fingers tighten around the phone 95

Aria’s POV
I woke up curled on a couch, my mouth flooded with the acrid taste of bile and stomach acid, each swallow sending a
fresh wave of nausea through me. I grimaced, running my tongue over my teeth, desperately wishing for a toothbrush to
scrub away the sour reminder of my weakness. The room spun slightly as I blinked, trying to orient myself.
“Not again,” I whispered, pressing my palm against my clammy forehead.
My mind immediately circled back to the undeniable truth: I was pregnant with Ethan’s child. The reality crashed over me
like an icy wave. The mental calculator in my brain started tallying costs—specialized pup training camps weren’t cheap,
nor were the mountain of diapers, formula, tiny clothes, crib, car seat, pediatrician visits… the list seemed endless, each
item adding weight to the pressure building behind my eyes.
When Lucas was born, I’d been just barely keeping my head above water financially. Some nights I’d sat on my apartment
floor, bills spread around me like fallen leaves, wondering if I’d have to choose between electricity and food that month.
Now I’d have to do it all over again.
“Damn you, Ethan,” I muttered, pressing my hands against my still-flat abdomen. I’d given away or sold most of Lucas’s
baby things during our last move, convinced I would never, ever have another child. Yet here I was, undone by one night
of weakness with a man whose green eyes and perfect jawline should come with a warning label. His touch had been like
a drug, and now I was facing the consequences.
“You’re finally awake,” David’s voice startled me, and I remembered seeing his face before losing consciousness. “You
nearly scared me to death.”
I opened my eyes to meet David’s warm brown ones, confirming the genuine concern on his face. “I’m sorry.”
David pressed his lips together, clearly dissatisfied with my apology. “I don’t want you to apologize, Aria, but you threw
up in a trash can and then passed out. I was worried.”
I sighed, closing my eyes and covering my forehead with my arm. “At least I made it to the trash can.”
“This isn’t funny, Aria. This isn’t the first time this week I’ve seen you vomiting or looking green. What’s going on?”
“That’s none of your business, David.” I shouldn’t be too defensive to him. It wasn’t fair to David, who had always been
kind to me, but I couldn’t help it.
“Actually, it is my business.” David’s voice dropped an octave. He squared his shoulders, his muscular frame suddenly
seeming to fill more space in the room. “You’re an important trainer for the Silver Moon and Shadow Fang joint training
camp. If you can’t fulfill your duties, that’s a problem.”
I could lose my position—my livelihood, my independence, everything I’d fought so hard to build for Lucas and myself. My stomach dropped as if I’d fallen from a great height. I sat up so abruptly that black spots danced across my vision, the
room tilting dangerously. I gripped the edge of the couch until my knuckles turned white, willing the dizziness away.
“I’m sorry,” I managed, hating how weak my voice sounded. The metallic taste of fear coated my tongue as I swallowed
against the panic rising in my throat. “You’re right. Lucas was sick last week with some kind of werewolf flu.” I tucked a
strand of hair behind my ear, buying myself precious seconds to craft my half-truth. “Kids get sick; that’s normal. The
problem is that I caught it too.”
David’s eyebrow arched upward, his head tilting slightly to one side. “And?” The single word hung in the air.
Tears threatened to spill again, and I struggled to hold them back. “As a werewolf who lost her wolf, my immune system
is compromised. I can’t fight off viruses like a normal werewolf.”
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David’s expression softened with sympathy. “So you’re still fighting the illness even though the fever has passed.”
“Yes,” I nodded, sinking back into the couch. “My immune system is worse than a human’s. Some illnesses that affect werewolves hit me harder. I don’t have my wolf anymore, but during full moons, my bones ache like they want to shift,
but nothing happens.” I rubbed my temples to alleviate the headache. “It takes me weeks to recover after being sick.”
David looked me up and down, assessing. “Why don’t you want Ethan to know?”
I bit my lip. How could I explain all the reasons I didn’t want to tell Ethan about persistent nausea? How could I keep this
secret from anyone, especially Ethan?
“We’re not on good terms.” I twisted the hem of my shirt between my fingers. The half-truth tasted bitter on my tongue.
“I don’t want to give him more reasons to interfere in my life.”
David’s expression softened almost imperceptibly, his dark eyes studying me. “I understand your hesitation,” he said,
leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “But Ethan is the alpha of Shadow Fang and the head of the
training camp. He needs to know what’s happening with the trainers under his management.”
“We both know I’m more than just a trainer to him.” The words escaped before I could trap them behind my teeth. I
threw my hands up in frustration. “I don’t want to continue getting tangled up with Ethan over something like this.”
My fingers slashed through the air, cutting invisible threads. “I can’t deal with Ethan’s interference right now.”
David’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing beneath the dark curls falling across his forehead. “I didn’t realize you two were
tangled up,” he murmured, running his fingers through his hair, leaving it standing in disheveled spikes. He sighed, a
sound weighed with resignation. “But I can’t let you continue working without telling him. Ethan is the alpha prince;
everything goes through him for final decisions.”
“Please, David.” My voice cracked, revealing the raw fear beneath my carefully constructed facade. I leaned forward, eyes
locked with his, willing him to understand what I couldn’t say.
“I really need this job.” My fingers clutched at the edge of the couch, knuckles whitening with the force of my grip. “You
knew I didn’t have my wolf when you hired me for this position; I can’t lose my job because I get sick easily.” The
desperation in my voice was real, fueled by rapid mental calculations of how many part-time jobs I’d need to cover bills,
support Lucas, and care for a new baby if I lost this position.
David’s eyes narrowed, his gaze traveling over my face like a physical touch, dissecting every micro-expression. The
silence stretched between us, taut and uncomfortable, filled with unspoken questions.
Finally, David exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. The rigid line of his shoulders softened in surrender. “Fine. I won’t tell him.” Relief flooded through me, warm and dizzying. “But,” he held up one finger, his expression turning stern,
“if Ethan asks me directly, I won’t lie to him, Aria. I’ll tell him exactly what’s happening.” His eyes softened slightly.
I managed a smile, though I could feel it wavering at the edges, tears threatening to spill over. “I think Ethan will not ask,”
I whispered, the words laced with a bitterness I couldn’t quite hide. “After all, Emma is his girlfriend.”
“Can you continue working now?” David asked, his voice gentle but firm, clearly ready to move past the emotional moment.
“Of course,” I nodded, pushing myself to my feet with deliberate slowness, ignoring the way the room tilted momentarily.
“And thank you for your help.”