The door clicked shut behind Kylian with a sound that felt final.
Rachel’s heart hammered in her chest as she sat up straighter on the clinic bed. She could see the storm brewing in his eyes — the anger, the confusion, the betrayal already forming before she even spoke.
Kylian stood at the foot of the bed, his tall frame rigid. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. The air in the small room felt thick, suffocating.
“Pregnant,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “The healer says you’re ten to eleven weeks along.”
Rachel’s face went pale. She gripped the edge of the blanket, her knuckles turning white. She had known this moment would come eventually, but she wasn’t ready. Not like this. Not when she was still weak from fainting.
Kylian took one step closer, his eyes burning
