Pregnant And Rejected Omega

Stefan

“Your Majesty, what are you doing?” Harlyn asked, trying to pull away from me.

“I need to talk, to explain something,” I say, and before I even process what I am doing, I am walking towards the guards outside of the room I often occupy when I stay here.

They step back, and Harlyn struggles in my grip more.

“Why are we here?” she asks. I walk into the room and close the door, finally releasing her. Now, though, I regret this choice. I didn’t realise until now that it was the room from that night.

“I need to talk to you. Did I not already say that?” I press. Glancing down, I see her trying to keep the weight off her foot.

“Why this room? You could have spoken with me in the halls.” Why did I come here?

“This is my room. Your ankle can heal better here.” No, it can’t. God, what lame excuse is that? She looks at me like she knows it’s a lie. “Look, it’s my room. No one will interrupt you here,” I say, leading her to the sofa.

“Your Majesty, I can’t stay here, my kids...I...” She stops realising her words, and I look at her.

“Your kids?” I ask, taking the shoe off her foot; as I unwrap the cloth, I instantly spot the bruising around her ankle and the deep cuts. I thought I had hurt her when we tripped, but this wasn’t me. Her kids, if what I believe is true, they are my kids, ours, not hers.

I look at her. “Your kids?” I repeat, waiting for her reply.

“Yes, so I need to leave.” She goes to stand, and I push her back to sit. Her foot needs sorting.

“Just wait.” I Walk to the door, ask the guard to get me a first aid kit, and return to the restroom. Getting a clean, damp cloth, I walk back to her, and she watches me cautiously. I can’t blame her.

The knock has me walk to the door and take the kit from his hand.

“The Earl said if you’re hurt, he can get a doctor to come.” The guard looks at me. If I say yes, he will come, but I am sure he will refuse to let the doctor examine Harlyn’s ankle. Unfortunately, I can’t order him to let his doctor check on her. I don’t think she will agree to come to the palace to allow my doctor to check on her, either.

“I’m good.” I close the door and walk back in. Kneeling, I grab her foot.

“Your Majesty, you shouldn’t be doing this.” Her words are quiet, and she’s right. If anyone saw it, it would raise questions. The king kneeled at her feet while cleaning her foot.

I remove my crown and set it aside. Harlyn stays quiet as I clean her foot and rub the lotion on it.

“Your Maj-” My hand raises, cutting off her words.

“Just call me Stefan,” I say as I wrap the bandage around her ankle and foot to give her ankle more support.

“Fine, Stefan. What the hell are you doing?” Her words are loud and shock me. I know I removed my title, but her attitude changed instantly.

“Your ankle needed to be sorted,” I say quietly. Sighing, I look at her. “I’m sorry for being an ass.”

I watch her eyes widen. Yeah, the king isn’t meant to apologise and shit. He’s meant to own his mistakes and make out like they weren’t. I can’t, though. How I treated her at the wedding was inexcusable.

“No apology needed; now, may I leave?” She goes to stand, and I stop her.

“I’m trying to apologise,” I say again, confused as to why she is so eager to run away from me.

“Which you have. Now, you can let me leave, and we can continue as if nothing happened.” She slips her shoe on as she speaks and walks to the door. I follow and stop her there.

“Do you know the man who raped you?” I ask, waiting to see if she knows. I don’t know why I’m still doubting it was her. Something does.

What more do you need to accept it was you?

Ghost’s words have me considering things. What do I need? I don’t know what I need to prove to myself that it was her. Maybe I already hate myself so much for rejecting her that I can’t stand the thought that she was exiled because of me, too.

I need something, though, more proof, just so that I can be sure it’s her.

My hand pulls her to me, and I breathe in her scent. My head shakes; no, it can’t have been her. I pull back and look at her, considering what to say. How do I even tell her that I think I was the man that night?

Think?

Ghost mocks me, and before I can stop him, I am kissing her again. My hands roam her body, feeling across her body as she kisses me back.

My hand slides up her leg, stroking along it; everything feels the same: every part of her. I groan against her lips.

What am I doing? Why hasn’t she stopped me? My eyes roll, and I step back. Of course, she wouldn’t have; the bond is only getting stronger with each passing moment.

I jump, startled by the slap.

“What are you doing!” Her words are loud.

Was that enough proof?

I growl at Ghost, jerk. I’m meant to fix things, not make them worse.

“My father may call me a slut and think I am, but I’m not! Don’t ever touch me again!” Her words are screamed.

“I apologise.” Sighing, I look at her. “Harlyn, do you know who raped you?” I ask again.

“Why are you asking that!” She pushes against my chest.

“What if I was the man in the room with you that night?” I ask, ready to tell her. The knock has me open the door. “What?” I look at the soldier.

“You’re required at the palace immediately. There’s a problem.” I turn and look at Harlyn. I need to talk to her. “Your Majesty, more rogues appear to be coming to help the ones already here breakthrough.”

Crap.

“I’m coming.” I walk out of the room, following the soldier to the palace; why now? I was just about to tell her everything.