Eavesdropping.

Blaire:

I wasn't sure why he hadn't woken up yet, and it's been a week and three days. What was going on with him? Was he poisoned? Doctor Miller had refused to tell me anything when I had carefully asked in a way that would not raise any suspicion. Most importantly, I didn't know why a part of my heart was thumping anxiously, anticipating his open eyes.

I knew the mate bond was faint, and by virtue of London severing it from his side, I couldn't feel his heart or emotions like mates were supposed to. I could only feel the lingering pull and reaction to his presence—an inexplicable excitement that comes from my fast-beat heart. It was crazy because I wanted to feel less for him and hate him, but with my pregnancy included, it was becoming impossible.

Emmett had told me that babies help strengthen the mate bond, and it was going to grow even stronger if the husband was alive. That went a long way in explaining the restlessness I had been experiencing and the sharp pain in my heart when I witnessed him collapse with a battered body.

I looked at the trolley I was pushing and sighed. Was there really any use in continuously serving an unconscious man food? It wasn't like he was eating it anyway, yet every day I carried up the trolley full of food prepared by the chefs to his room, subconsciously anticipating his opened eyes.

It was crazy how I still cared for him. I found it strange, but I figured after seeing him strive to save that kid, he was the type to move mountains to protect those he deemed worthy. I still didn't understand what that child was to him, but I couldn't deny that my respect for him grew a little.

Eyeing the big black door down, I prepared myself to be in his presence. That sweet smell of his that I'd gotten used to in the past few days; his skin held a few scars that served as surveniers from war; his toned muscles that I enjoyed running my washcloth over; his long raven black hair that framed his face as sprawled on his bed; his chiseled handsome face that twisted every now and then while asleep...

I was unknowingly blushing like a lovestruck idiot. He was a work of art that oozed darkness. He was that which burned at close contact. Even in his sleep, he didn't look so peaceful. I remembered the very few times he'd grab onto my hands tightly, ceaselessly muttering something underneath his breaths. The few times I had tried to touch his face while he was in the middle of what I perceived to be a nightmare, he had ended up seizing my hand tightly, lowly growling in warning.

Even in his freaking sleep, that man was still very alert to his surroundings.

After my debate with Hera, I finally decided to talk with him concerning my pregnancy. Though I might not be able to say it to his face, I would be able to say it to him while asleep—that part I was still fearful about. The thought alone was stressing me out, but someone had to do it.

Bracing myself to knock on the door, my hands paused mid-air when I heard a velvety feminine voice.

"My Alpha, I've missed you so."

My heart froze instantly, a strained mini-gasp slipping from me. Missed London? What the hell? He wouldn't talk to me, but someone else could miss him? Was she the mother of that boy London nearly got himself killed for? Was the moon goddess just making my life a joke for her entertainment?

The more I thought about it, the more jumbled my thoughts became. I couldn't think properly; all that ran through my head was the fact that my supposed'mate', was fucking cheating on me.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I was in no position to make a fuss. He gave me no rights.

"You haven't been replying to my messages, so I decided to come see you. Quite frankly, I was extremely worried when I heard you were in critical condition."

The more she talked, the more my heart broke and my blood boiled. I instinctively leaned my ear to the door to have better hearing—not like I needed it though, because Hera could hear just fine—but the stubborn wolf had refused to surface in my mind since I had an argument with her last night concerning my thoughts on Mathias and Emmett.

She kept harping in my head that I should be weary of Emmett because apparently she kept away from me the fact that she was a wolf-whisperer. According to her, it was the only thing she had kept hidden from me, and it was the most important fact of all. She didn't trust me and expected me to feel the same towards her, which was stupid because Emmett was the nicest, sweetest, and most caring person to me. If it weren't for her, I'd probably have lost my mind from loneliness and would have probably been extremely sick or possibly dead.

And I had no idea why she had a problem with my jumbled thoughts concerning Mathias. She requested, or better put, demanded I refrain from thinking of London that way. She also said that even if Mathias was his son, we were his mates, and it was our duty to fight for his love and prove ourselves to be worthy Luna. Then she said something I couldn't forgive her for. She had said that London's world was a world full of beasts; everyone here was a Lycan except us; did we really belong as just mere Omegas?

I hated how she was always quick to go into the defensive when it came to him, and it most times made me think she was just becoming biased.

"Cane told me Reece was away when I asked about him. I've heard about the growing war between wolf hunters and the wolves. They've been spotted encroaching Lycan barriers, and commoners believe they're responsible for the gutted wolves and planning a relationship." Her voice had become sultry, and I could hear a soft moan slip from her lips.

Green ruptured in my veins as I wondered why the hell she'd be moaning.

"What do you mean by war with the wolf hunters?" London's husky voice came.

Wait, London's voice? He was awake. A part of me was overcome with joy, but it didn't last because another part of me seethed with anger because I wanted to be there when he woke up, which was strange. Also, I had hoped to be able to say something to him, but I guessed it would have to wait until another day.

"Wolf hunters invaded the North and have been responsible for murdering wolves, and recently other bodies have been appearing in more brutal ways than recorded before. They believe the wolf hunters have upped their game and want revenge for the fallen ones." She managed to say it in between breathy moans.

"Mm-hmm." His lust was dominant in the air.

London's deep hum made my body shiver and left goosebumps lying in the wake. I heard the soft clash of lips and more breathy moans. I knew I shouldn't be standing there listening in on whatever was going on, but I had curiosity brewing in me despite my hurting heart.

"You look so tempting when you're horny." He rasped.

"Only for you, my king." She breathed out.

His chuckle rang in my head. I could sense the pleasure in his voice, and his lust-filled pheromones stayed thick in the air.

He was touching someone else just the same way he had touched me. He was supposed to be just mine.

"Oh goddess, I've missed this so much." Her haze of pleasure was glaring, and the smell of arousal hovered in the air.

I looked away, taking shaky breaths as my hands tightened on the trolley's handle. The color drained from my body. Suddenly, the only thing I could hear were the moans and groans, and they echoed in my head, along with my increased heartbeats as I slowly took a step back.

Why did he always find a way to break me whenever I was losing my doubts about his cruelty? He was with another woman when he had a mate. My initial thoughts of him being in love with another woman came back, and they seemed more real as I listened to their moans of pleasure and ecstasy.

"Fuck, right there." I heard her cry out.

Why was I still listening to this?

"You like that, huh?" He rasped, groaning.

"Ah… yes." Her loud moans tore my heart to pieces.

The more I heard them, the more I took a step back. Anger? Jealousy? Pain? I wasn't sure which exactly stood prominent, but in my heart was a turnado of all of them mixed together. I felt betrayed and used.

Here I was, suffering with his children stuck inside me, daring to actually care about him, and he… he just… Oh, my goodness.

"I'm such a fool." I whispered to myself in a shaky voice as tears slipped from my eyes.

My back collided with a stool with enough force to knock it down, sending an expensive-looking vase to the floor with a loud shatter. A sharp gasp left my throat as my widened eyes went to the door before landing on the shattered vase. No, no, no, no, no, London was going to hear it, and he was going to figure out someone was out here. Even worse, I broke a vase that looked like an antique, and only the goddess knew how long he'd had it.

London was already irritated with my presence; I could see it in his eyes and feel it rolling off him whenever he sensed me around. It was like every single thing about me irked him, but then when I thought back to how he had teased me that day, I grew confused. The feeling of his hardness in my hands brought an unwanted ache between my legs. He was a very complicated man, and I wondered what exactly he wanted from me.

He said he wanted me out of his life, but then his body said otherwise. I knew nothing about London's personal history. I knew nothing about his life or his story with women.

In fact, when I asked Emmett about London, she only gave a vague story about him. A story that left me wondering a lot of things I couldn't comprehend. I had asked if London had a child, but she had said no. She also made mention of a mistress named Freya, saying she was the only woman London had any sort of relationship with.

Did he love her? The question that haunted my sanity, yet sadly, I had no answer.

I rushed to my knees, quickly trying to pick up the pieces and disappear before he concluded his business and came out here. I kept glancing between the door and the broken ceramic that I was picking up and stuffing in my apron. I felt a cut on my stomach and winced. It was a horrible idea to put the broken pieces in my apron, but I couldn't have him find out that I broke an antique vase. He'd probably say something demeaning or, worse, kill me.

In my haste, a piece of glass sliced my palm, and I hissed, immediately pulling my hand back to suck on it.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

The icy tone that I so feared hearing chilled my bones, freezing me on the spot. I managed to rear my head to get a better look at the man who owned it.

He was tying a robe, and I could see the tattooed part of his chest peeking from the part the robe left exposed. Subconsciously, my eyes slid down to his toned legs, and I gulped, feeling my heart thump loudly in my chest.

I looked down at my bleeding palm and pieces of ceramic scattered on the floor, and so did he.

"I asked a question, little maid."