But I know.
And the knowing is destroying me.
"You need to see the mystic," I tell her one morning, keeping my voice carefully neutral. "For the contamination. We should monitor the transformation, make sure it's progressing safely."
She looks up from her breakfast, amber eyes sharp. Morning light catches the loose strands of hair that have escaped herbraid, turns them copper and gold. Even sleep-rumpled and frowning at me, she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"You've been hovering more than usual. Is something wrong?"
"Just cautious." I pour her tea, watch her take the cup. "The changes are accelerating. I want to make sure your body is handling them."
She studies me for a long moment—too long, those warrior instincts reading something in my face I'm trying to hide. But then she shrugs and drinks the tea, and I breathe again.
"Fine," she says. "If it'll make you stop looking at me like I'm about to shatter."
The mystic's chambers smell like dried herbs and old magic, the kind of scent that settles into stone over centuries of use.
I'm pacing. Can't stop pacing. Wearing a path in the ancient floor while Kess is inside being examined and I'm out here like some nervous alpha waiting for news about his mate.
Which is exactly what I am.
The door opens.
The mystic emerges, her ancient face carefully neutral, and closes the door behind her with a soft click. She beckons me further down the corridor, away from where Kess might overhear.
"Well?" The word comes out rough, scraped raw by fear.
"Pregnant." The mystic's voice is quiet but certain. "A few weeks along. The pregnancy is taking hold."
I knew. Already smelled it on her. But hearing it confirmed aloud makes it real in a way my own senses couldn't.
"Is the baby healthy?"
"Too early to tell much. But her body is handling it well. The warrior omega bloodline is helping—she's strongerthan a normal omega would be." The mystic pauses. "The contamination is supporting the pregnancy rather than threatening it."
Thank the gods.
"Did she suspect anything?"
"She asked why you wanted her examined so urgently." The mystic crosses her arms. "I told her you're concerned about contamination progression. That we need to monitor her transformation."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me." Her voice goes sharp. "I lied to your mate for you, your majesty. Looked her in the eye and deceived her while she sat there trusting both of us."
"I know. I just need time?—"
"Time for what?" The mystic cuts through my excuses. "To figure out how to tell her you've known for over a week? That you've been giving her bond-weakening herbs while she's carrying your child?"
The words land like blows.
"I'm trying to protect her. The bond puts strain on omega bodies. If I can weaken it, give her body room to transform without the extra pressure?—"
"Tell her." The mystic cuts through my excuses. "Before she figures it out herself. Because when she realizes you've been lying—and she will—finding out you knew and kept silent will hurt worse than any truth you're afraid to speak."
She walks away, leaving me alone with my guilt.
I find Kess in our chambers that afternoon, curled up in the window seat where afternoon sunlight pools like honey. She's not reading, just staring out at the courtyard, one hand resting absently on her stomach. The light gilds her skin, catches thedark fall of her hair, and for a moment I just stand in the doorway watching her. Wanting her. Knowing I don't deserve her.
