Carolina's POV
I slammed the door to my room, tears streaming down my face. How dare they? How dare they uproot my entire life and then expect me to just... marry a stranger?
The anger and frustration bubbled up inside me, making me feel physically ill.
I paced the room, trying to calm my racing thoughts. But as the night wore on, the nausea only intensified. By midnight, I found myself hunched over the toilet, retching violently.
"This can't be happening," I groaned, resting my forehead against the cool porcelain. Was it the stress? The rich food I wasn't used to? Or...
A terrifying thought struck me, and I felt the blood drain from my face. No. It couldn't be. But as I counted back the days since that fateful night at the party, a cold dread settled in my stomach.
I barely slept that night, alternating between bouts of vomiting and anxious pacing. By morning, I was a wreck, my eyes bloodshot and my body aching.
I ignored the knocks on my door, the concerned voices calling my name. I couldn't face them. Not now. Not like this.
It was nearly noon when a more insistent knock came, followed by a familiar voice. "Carolina? It's Dahlia. Please, let me in. I'm worried about you."
I hesitated, then shuffled to the door, cracking it open. Dahlia's eyes widened as she took in my appearance.
"Oh my God, Carolina. What happened?" She pushed past me into the room, her nose wrinkling at the smell of sickness.
"I've been throwing up all night," I admitted, sinking onto the bed. "I don't know if it's stress or..."
Dahlia's expression softened with understanding. "Or something else?"
I nodded miserably. "I... there was this guy, at a party, right before I came here. We... well, you know. I think I took the pills late. I feel sick, and..." I trailed off, unable to say the words out loud.
"Okay, deep breaths," Dahlia said, sitting beside me and rubbing my back soothingly.
"Let's not jump to conclusions. First, let me make you some herbal tea. It should help with the nausea. They're safe, even if you are... you know."
I nodded gratefully for her support. "Thanks, Dahlia. You're an anchor."
She smiled, squeezing my hand. "That's what family's for, right? Now, why don't you take a hot shower while I change these sheets? You'll feel better, I promise."
I nodded, grateful for her calm presence. As the hot water washed over me, I tried to gather my thoughts. Pregnant.
The word echoed in my mind, terrifying and surreal. How could I have let this happen? And what was I going to do now?
When I emerged from the bathroom, feeling marginally more human, Dahlia was waiting with a steaming mug of tea.
"Drink this," she instructed. "It'll settle your stomach. Now, talk to me. What are you thinking? You have locked yourself up all day."
I sipped the tea, letting its warmth spread through me. "I'm thinking my life has gone completely to shit," I said bluntly.
"A week ago, I was a normal nurse with a normal life. Now I'm apparently a werewolf princess, being auctioned off to the highest bidder, and possibly pregnant with a stranger's baby. How am I supposed to put up with all this, Dahlia?"
She sighed, her expression sympathetic. "I know it's a lot to take in. But you're stronger than you think, Carolina. All werewolves are." She encouraged me.
I nodded, feeling a rush of affection for my newfound cousin. "Thanks. But I... I think I need to go home. Back to LA, I mean. I need to get a test, figure out if I really am..." I couldn't bring myself to say the word.
Dahlia bit her lip. "I get it, I do. But Carolina... it might not be that simple. The Alphas are arriving soon for the, uh, mate selection. If you leave now..."
"I don't care!" I exclaimed, standing up abruptly. "I didn't ask for any of this. They can't force me to stay, can they?"
The look on Dahlia's face told me it might not be that simple. Before she could respond, there was another knock at the door.
"Miss Carolina?" a voice called. "Your alpha says to prepare for the evening. The guests have begun to arrive."
I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "You've got to be kidding me."
Dahlia stood, a determined look on her face. "Okay, new plan. You go down there, you smile and nod, and then you can turn down any man who approaches you. That better?" She suggested.
I hesitated, then nodded. "Deal. Because I'm not agreeing to anything, and I'm definitely not picking a 'mate' or whatever they want to call it."
"That's the spirit. Don't let anyone break you." Dahlia grinned. "Now, let's get you looking like the werewolf princess you are. We'll show those Alphas you're above their station." She giggled.
Despite my protests, I let Dahlia work her magic. By the time we descended the grand staircase, I looked far more put-together than I felt.
The nausea had subsided to a dull roil, and I plastered on what I hoped was a convincing smile.
The grand hall was filled with people – werewolves, I reminded myself – all turning to stare as I entered. I recognized none of them, except I was being scrutinized.
Tall, imposing men who I assumed were the Alphas father had mentioned stood in small groups, their eyes following my every move.
"Just breathe," Dahlia whispered, squeezing my hand. "You've got this."
I nodded, trying to project a confidence I didn't feel. As we made our way through the crowd, I could hear the whispers.
"Is that her? The lost princess?"
"She doesn't look like much."
"I heard she was raised by humans. How pitiful."
I gritted my teeth, reminding myself that their opinions didn't matter. I was leaving as soon as I could find a way out.
Suddenly, the room went quiet. The crowd parted, and I felt... something. A pull, deep in my chest, drawing me towards the entrance. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him.
He was tall, impossibly handsome, with dark hair and piercing green eyes that seemed to look right through me.
As he strode towards me, the crowd bowed their heads respectfully. Who was this man who commanded such reverence?
He stopped in front of me, a small smile playing on his lips. "Carolina," he said, his voice deep and rich. "May I have a dance?" He demanded.
Without waiting for an answer, he took my hand, leading me to the center of the room. As if on cue, music began to play, and he pulled me close.
"Who are you?" I managed to ask, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.
His smile widened. "Avon Dante Vladimir. The Lycan King. And you, my dear, are my mate."
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. "What? No, that's not possible. I don't even know you."
But as the words left my mouth, memories began to flash through my mind and I thought I've seen him somewhere. The party in LA. The stranger's bed. The face I couldn't quite remember in the morning light...
"Oh my God," I whispered, my legs going weak. "It was you. That night..."
Avon's grip on my waist tightened. "You remember now, don't you? That night... It was fate, Carolina. We are meant to be."
I stared at him blankly, trying to comprehend what he was saying. "I've been waiting for you for a very long time, Carolina. When I saw you at that party, I knew. But I also knew you weren't ready. So I let you go, trusting that fate would bring us back together. And it did." He finished.
My head spun, the room suddenly feeling too hot, too crowded. "I... I can't..." If he was the man from that night, then...
"I think I'm going to be sick," I mumbled.
And then, mercifully, everything went black.
---
I woke to the feeling of silk sheets against my skin and a pounding headache. For a moment, I thought I was back in my apartment in LA, that everything had been a bizarre dream. But as I opened my eyes, I knew that wasn't the case.
The room was opulent, all dark wood and rich fabrics. And there, sitting in a chair by the bed, was Avon.
"Welcome back," he said softly, leaning forward. "How are you feeling?"
I sat up slowly, my head swimming. "Like I've been hit by a truck. Where am I?"
"My home," Avon replied. "I brought you here after you fainted. I thought it best to get you away from the prying eyes of the pack."
The events of the evening came rushing back, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I fainted? In front of everyone?"
Avon chuckled. "Don't worry. I'm sure they'll attribute it to the overwhelming joy of meeting your mate."
At the word 'mate,' everything else clicked into place. I scrambled out of the bed, putting distance between us.
"This is insane. I'm not your mate. I'm not anyone's mate. I'm a nurse from LA who apparently had a one-night stand with you and I won't repeat it again."
Avon stood, his expression serious. "I know this is a lot to take in, Carolina. But you must feel it too – the connection between us. It's undeniable."
I shook my head vehemently. "No. No, I don't feel anything except confusion and nausea and the desperate need to go home."
"You are home," Avon said firmly. "Your place is here, with me. With our people."
"Our people?" I laughed, the sound bordering on hysterical. "I don't know these people. I don't know you. And I certainly don't want to be anybody's mate or princess or whatever it is you all expect me to be."
I made for the door, but Avon was faster, blocking my path. "Carolina, wait."
Before I could protest, he pulled me close, and his lips crashed down on mine. And at that moment, it was like a floodgate had opened.
Memories of our night together came rushing back – the passion we shared, the connection, the feeling that I'd found a missing piece of myself.
I jerked away, gasping for air. "No," I said, but my voice lacked conviction. "This isn't... I can't..."
Avon's eyes softened. "I needed to show you the pull between us, Carolina. It's understandable, my queen."
The intensity in his eyes scared me, but it also stirred something deep inside. Something I wasn't ready to acknowledge. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I had to say next.
"Avon, listen to me. I'm pregnant."
I told him, hoping he'll let me go. Avon's eyes widened with a hint of surprise flashing across his face.