Page 15 of Lycan Prince's Secret Baby

“Leah? Leah?” My voice sliced the eerie stillness, urgency knotting my stomach. With my heart rattling in my ribcage, I pressed my fingers against her wrist, praying for a steady beat. What I felt beneath my fingertips was weak—a faltering pulse that sent fresh waves of dread crashing over me.

With reflexes honed from years of pack training, I sprang into action, lifting her slight form and rushing toward the infirmary. My heart pounded, not from exertion but from a creeping, icyfear that wrapped itself around me, squeezing tighter with each desperate stride.

The familiar yet stale air of the infirmary greeted me, but I barely registered it. My world narrowed to Leah’s shallow breaths, my only focus.

Healer Maria was there, and her stalwart and familiar figure sent a jolt of relief through me. Clad in tailored slacks and a floral blouse, she radiated the same neat efficiency I had come to rely on since childhood. I was reminded of the many times she had been present for those moonlit nights when I had first shifted and learned to master my wolf.

“Maria!” I gasped. “Leah passed out. Her pulse is weak.”

“Lay her here on the bed,” Maria instructed. Her hazel eyes were sharp with focus.

I followed her instructions, gently placing Leah on the crisp white sheets. My gaze lingered on her pale face, her delicate features now drained of color. Panic churned through me. Why was she so pale? My mind raced back to earlier. I’d checked that she’d eaten earlier. I always lingered in the doorway of my study whenever she took her meals. I knew she was eating her full rations now instead of giving them away. My heart squeezed at the thought of her brave, reckless courage that had driven her to give away so much of her rations.

Terror shredded my insides. What if giving away so much for so long had done lasting damage to her body? My stomach clenched as a dozen scenarios of Leah remaining in this bed, wasting away, plagued me. My imaginings were only kept in check because the methodical movements of the healer’s hands, deft and practiced, told me that Maria would soon have theanswers I needed. I hovered on one side of Leah’s bed as Healer Maria inserted a needle, attaching an IV drip to Leah’s arm.

I’d seen other shifters treated with such means, but seeing the needle injected into Leah’s arm and her lying so still and looking so fragile sent a surge of protectiveness through me. “What’s that for?” I demanded, the edge of worry creeping into my tone.

“She’s dehydrated,” Maria replied, her voice steady as she focused on her task. “I need to get fluids into her to bring her temperature down.”

Nodding, I tried to suppress the whirlwind of emotion tearing through me. Restlessness forced me to move, and I began to pace, the rhythm of my footsteps echoing through the infirmary.

“Kyle, would you get a blanket out of the cupboard?” Maria asked. Her tone was firm, breaking the anxiety-laden silence. “We need to keep her warm despite the high temperature.”

Grateful for something to do, I moved to retrieve a blanket. Carefully, I swept the soft fabric over Leah’s still form, my throat tightening as I tucked it around her. With each pass of my fingers against her skin, the weight of protectiveness settled deeper into my chest.

It felt like an eternity before Maria finished jotting down her notes and turned her sharp yet warm gaze on me. Her hazel eyes were clear and calm, but there was something else in them. My heart was in my throat as I asked, “Just tell me, please. What’s wrong with her?”

“Leah’s long suffered from malnutrition, Kyle,” Maria said, her voice steady.

My pulse drummed. This had something to do with how we Moonlights had deprived her. Was her body irrevocably damaged because of our neglect? Guilt churned through me. A neglect I had been part of.

“So, it’s the stress put on her body from being undernourished that caused her to faint?” I asked.

“No,” Maria said, her brow knitting. “Her estrus is what caused her to faint. Even in my human form, I can scent her high levels of estrogen and progesterone. When she passed out, she was in a highly receptive state.”

I blinked, realization crashing over me.

Estrus, as in, Leah is in heat.

How could I have been so oblivious? I’d had Leah under my roof for a month. A part of a shifter female’s monthly cycle was that she came into heat—something that would have been magnified by the mating bond connecting us calling to be sated.

Heat flooded my face. Awkwardness hung in the air between the healer and me.

“Kyle, if there’s anything you’d like to talk to me about in confidence, I hope you know you can,” Maria said, her ordinarily neutral tone shifting into something more empathetic.

By Igaluk, this is like talking to my mom about sex.

Mariahadbeen a close friend of my mother’s and was a highly respected elder of the pack. She hadn’t just been there for my first shifts, but she had been a frequent visitor in our household. She and my mother had been as thick as thieves and hardly ever apart. I could picture them so vividly, sitting at the old woodentable in our kitchen, sharing pots of tea and laughter. Earlier, when Leah surprised me by mentioning the treasure trove of tea, it was a memory of my mother laughing with Maria over a steeping pot of tea and mugs that had struck me.

I pushed past the awkwardness and shook my head. “No, I’m fine, honestly,” I rushed to assure her. I tried to find a way to justify the desperation I knew I’d inadvertently betrayed when I’d brought Leah into the infirmary, thinking the worst. “It’s just… I want to make sure the mistreatment Leah and the others have received doesn’t do long-term damage. I thought maybe Leah, with her malnourishment, was experiencing organ failure or something. I panicked.”

Maria regarded me earnestly, her piercing gaze seeming to ask for the truth.

The question that had been ringing through me since I’d set foot in the infirmary tumbled out. “Will she recover?”

“Yes, she’ll be fine once her body is rehydrated and rests,” she stated—a promise that stilled the rising tide of fear within me. The icy grip of dread loosened its hold, freeing my heart from its clutches.

“You know, you’re so like Tamara, Kyle,” Maria observed, her voice softening.

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