Page 44 of Reflections of Peonies
“It can’t be true, can it?” I asked.
Titus responded, brows lowered and wariness lacing his tone. “Damen hasn’t confirmed it, so in my opinion, it’s not valid.”
I let out a laugh. “Of course not, there’s no way—”
“But youaremy mate,” Titus said.
“You’re wrong!” I protested as my throat closed over. I looked past him, breathing heavily, as my mind raced.
Titus wrapped an arm around my shoulder as he moved his other hand to my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his.
“What are you saying?” he asked. His light eyes had transformed into a dark sage, the irises a shade away from being swallowed in black. The expression on his face was heartbreaking. “Are you rejecting—”
“No!” I interrupted and pressed my fingers against his lips. My breath came out in a rush. The last thing I wanted was to hurt him.
“I’m not rejecting you.” I glanced away, trying not to let the warm brush of his breath across my knuckles fluster me. “That’s not it. What you’re saying… the mate stuff. It can’t be me. It’s just not possible.”
He was silent a moment before touching my cheek. The grief had faded from his expression, and I knew by the searching tilt of his head that there was no way to avoid the inevitable question.
And sure enough, after a second, there it was. “Why do you think that?”
I couldn’t lie; this was his future. He deserved to know.
“The prophecy says you’ll have children,” I whispered, forcing myself to stay present, if only for a little longer. “I can’t do that.”
I’d always wanted a family. I dreamed about it my whole life.It was the same dream that Damen had told me not long ago, but in my dream, I would adopt.
Biological children weren’t in my future.
Titus didn’t react much to my admission—he only raised his eyebrows.
Did he not understand? “Titus…”
“I don’t care,” he said, his expression calculating. “I only care about how I feel. It’s you. It’s alwaysbeenyou. For it to have been you born into this form leaves no question. You’re my mate.”
A weight pressed against my chest, making it hard to breathe. “But the prophecy,” I began to protest, but I wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“I told you I don’t believe in that nonsense,” Titus said, rubbing his thumb over my cheek. “All I care about is you. If you don’t want—”
“No, I do want children!” I cut him off. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. “But I’m pretty sure I can’t havethem.”
He needed to understand this, although it was beyond horrifying that we were discussing this topic at all. Because, well, in order to have children, you’d need to have sex, and, well…
“What does that mean?” Titus frowned.
My face was on fire, and I gripped his shirt, twisting the fabric as I moved my focus there. This was going down such an embarrassing route.
“Stuff happened,” I whispered. “And there were concerns. I’ve never been… normal. So, it’s pretty obvious that… see?”
“What concerns?” he asked as my admission seemed to confound him further, and his frown deepened. “What did Trinity say?”
I swallowed—my mouth was so dry.
“Ah,” I looked away. “Dr. Reed didn’t… I—I never told her. And—”
Oh, this was such a bad, bad idea. But nobody could make me do anything anymore, so it didn’t matter.
“—Well, I might have misled her when she asked me questions. So she doesn’t exactly know.”
