Celine POV
As the conversation drifts, the tension in the room eases further. The morning sun creeps higher, casting soft, golden light across the room’s stone walls and wooden floors. The faint sounds of birdsong filter through the window, mingling with the quiet comfort of Sebastian’s presence. For the first time in a long while, I feel like I can breathe.
The moment realization strikes, panic grips me, and my chest tightens as though an invisible weight is pressing down on me. My breaths come in short gasps, my vision blurs, and my thoughts spiral uncontrollably. How did I not think of this? How did I not consider it? The walls of the room, warm and inviting only moments ago, now feel suffocating, their heavy stone seeming to close in around me.
Sebastian’s hands gently cradle my face, his touch firm yet soothing. “Little one, calm,” he murmurs, his golden eyes locking onto mine with steady reassurance.
But I can’t calm down. The flood of questions and realizations crashes over me like a relentless tide. “You have a mate,” I blurt out, my voice trembling. “A queen. Joseph’s mum!” The words tumble out before I can stop them, and my mind reels. Is she the woman I saw in the vision? Is she pregnant again? Are they about to have another child? 1
Sebastian’s lips curl into a soft, patient smile, his thumbs brushing against my cheeks. “Joseph’s mother wasn’t my mate,” he says quietly. “She left when Joseph was five. She found her mate among the wolves and never returned. So don’t worry about her.” His voice is calm, each word carefully measured to dispel my fears.
The tension in my chest loosens slightly, though my mind remains restless. “Does Joseph have a mate?” I ask, my thoughts darting to the woman I saw in the vision. If not his mother, then who is she? Could she be Joseph’s mate? His daughter? A sister?
“He does,” Sebastian answers, his tone softening further. “Her name is Nischola. She’s currently one month
pregnant.
His words send a ripple of confusion through me. One month pregnant? That can’t be right. The woman in my vision looked far more advanced in her pregnancy.
“You’re worrying again,” he says, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies me. “And biting your lip. Why?”
I hesitate, unsure of how to explain. “If she’s only one month pregnant,” I begin cautiously, “does Joseph even know? He left weeks ago.” I pause, hoping for an answer that might make sense of the discrepancies swirling in my mind
Sebastian tilts his head slightly, his expression thoughtful Werewolves and dragon pregnancles are much quicker than human ones,” he explains. “Roughly nine weeks instead of nine months, like humans used to have.”
I nod slowly, the math tumbling through my head. If she’s one month along by their timeline, is she actually closer to four months by human standards? Or even further? The woman in my vision didn’t look like someone at the beginning of her pregnancy–she seemed near the end. My concern grows. “Is she well?” I ask, my voice softer now.
His brows knit together as he studies me, his curiosity evident. “Why would you ask that?” he replies, his tone cautious. “Celine, what’s with all the questions about Nischola?”
I falter under his gaze, lowering my head in embarrassmen “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t do it on purpose. I have no control.” My voice wavers, and I brace myself for his reaction. He’s going to hate this.
“Do what?” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge of worry to it now.
