Princess's Revenge: Slave to the Soulbound King Chapter 96

Thalia

Seraphina's face was heavy with sorrow as she spoke the words that would shatter my world. "Human women carrying werewolf pups... it's extraordinarily rare, and it's extraordinarily dangerous. The developing pup requires immense amounts of life energy to grow, far more than a human mother can safely provide. The child will continuously draw upon your magical and physical essence."

My throat tightened with sudden fear. "What are you saying?"

"The drain on your life force is irreversible. From this point, the prognosis is grim. The records show a lifespan of no more than five years from the onset of these symptoms." Her words fell like stones into still water, sending ripples of horror through my consciousness. "The constant drain on your life force becomes progressively more severe until..."

"Until I die," I finished, my voice barely a whisper.

Seraphina nodded gravely. "Unless you choose not to continue the pregnancy."

The suggestion hung in the air between us like a poison cloud. End the pregnancy. Destroy this miraculous life that Draven and I had created together. Never tell him that we'd made something beautiful and perfect from our love.

"No." The word came out stronger than I'd expected, carrying absolute conviction. My hands moved protectively over my abdomen. "This is Draven's child. Our child. I won't destroy it."

I grasped Seraphina's hand desperately. "But you cannot tell anyone about this. Not Draven, not Adelaide, not anyone. Promise me."

Seraphina's eyes widened in shock. "Thalia, Draven has the right to know! He's the father—"

"If he knows I'm going to die, what do you think he'll do?" I interrupted, my voice turning bitter. "He'll insist on ending the pregnancy to save my life. He'll force me to choose between him and our child, and I cannot—I will not—let him carry that guilt. This has to be my choice alone."

For a long moment, Seraphina studied my face, clearly wrestling with her medical ethics and her respect for my autonomy. Finally, she sighed heavily. "I go against every principle I hold as a healer, but... I'll respect your decision. However, you must let me help you."

She moved to her shelves, selecting several bundles of dried herbs and powdered substances. "These will help mask the early signs of pregnancy and slow the rate of energy drain, but they cannot prevent the inevitable progression. The symptoms will become more obvious as time passes, and eventually, you won't be able to hide what's happening."

I watched her prepare the herbal remedies, my mind racing. "How long do I have before it becomes impossible to conceal?"

"Perhaps three months before the changes become undeniable," she said, mixing the herbs into small pouches. "The werewolf pup will develop faster than a human child would. They require more energy, grow more quickly, and place an increasingly severe strain on your system."

"Initially, what you're experiencing now—magical instability, fatigue, nausea. In the middle stages, you'll notice significant physical weakness, difficulty maintaining your magical reserves. In the final phase..." She hesitated. "Organ failure. Gradual shutdown of your body's systems as the pup draws everything it needs to survive."

Despite the grim prognosis, I felt oddly calm. "I need you to prepare whatever medications might help me maintain my strength for as long as possible. I have things I need to accomplish before..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

"I'll research every possible treatment," Seraphina promised. "Perhaps there are remedies that have been forgotten, magical techniques that could extend your time or even offer a cure. I'll examine every ancient text in my collection."

We agreed on a schedule for regular, secret examinations—every two weeks to monitor the progression and adjust my treatments. Seraphina warned me that the energy drain would accelerate as the pregnancy continued, making it increasingly difficult to maintain the facade of health.

When our planning was complete, I accepted the pouches of herbs she'd prepared, tucking them carefully into my robes. The weight of them felt both comforting and ominous—tools that might buy me precious time, but couldn't change the ultimate outcome.

As I prepared to leave her workshop, Seraphina caught my hand one final time. "Thalia, please reconsider telling Draven. Whatever happens, he deserves to know that he's going to be a father."

I squeezed her fingers gently. "Maybe someday, when the time is right. But not yet. Not until I've found a way to ensure this child can survive without destroying everyone I love in the process."

The corridor outside Seraphina's workshop felt different as I walked slowly back toward my chambers. Every shadow seemed deeper, every sound more poignant. I paused by a large window overlooking the moonlit gardens, pressing my palm against the cool glass.

The moon hung full and bright above Lycandor Keep, casting silver light across the landscape. In werewolf tradition, the moon was the source of all life, all power, all blessing. I found myself whispering a prayer to the ancient lunar goddess, my free hand resting on my abdomen.

"You chose to create this life," I murmured to the gleaming orb above. "This child will be my only lasting mark upon this world, the one beautiful thing I can leave behind. Perhaps... perhaps this baby will be the bridge that finally brings peace between our peoples."

The moonlight seemed to intensify, bathing me in its ethereal glow. Whether it was blessing or farewell, I couldn't tell. But standing there with life growing within me and death marking my future, I felt a strange sense of purpose settling over my heart.

Five years. If that was all the time I had, then I would make it count. I would use every remaining day to ensure that Draven's child—our child—would be born into a world where humans and werewolves no longer lived as enemies. It was a legacy worth dying for.

With renewed determination, I turned away from the window and walked toward my chambers, carrying both hope and sorrow within me like the precious, dangerous life that now shared my body.