Vengeance in His Bed

Dorrent’s hand clamped down harder on her shoulder, his fingers digging into her pale flesh until her skin turned ghostly white under his grip. His eyes, dark and violent with a dangerous focus, searched her face.

"What do you mean, you are dying?" Dorrent growled, his voice dropping into a low, terrifying vibration that rattled her chest. "What the hell does that sentence mean, Jannah?!"

Jannah pulled her shoulder back, her dark eyes flashing through her lashes as she clutched the towel desperately against her chest. "Because I have been feeling bad lately!" she screamed into his face, her voice cracking with frantic emotion. "I have a tumor! It’s probably growing right on my spine! My neighbor down in the slum had the exact same issue years ago—she started with this heavy, crippling pain, and months later she died in agony! I know my own body! I know I’m next!"

Dorrent didn’t move an inch. His frame remained locked over her, his eyes unblinking as he absorbed her hysterical declaration. "Are you sure?" he asked, his baritone eerily calm, though a sharp vein throbbed furiously against his temple. "Have you actually seen a qualified doctor? Have you had a single scan done at a hospital?"

"I am an herbalist!" Jannah fired right back, wiping a wet tear off her cheek with the back of her hand, her pale collarbone heaving under the thin cotton towel. "I diagnosed myself! I don’t need your machines to tell me what’s wrong with my own flesh!"

"And how exactly did you diagnose a spinal tumor, little physician?" Dorrent rasped out, his tone dripping with a mixture of disbelief and growing, intense intrigue.

"The normal way!" Jannah snapped, her voice trembling. "By feeling how my body reacts! By listening to the heavy, throbbing pressure inside my lower body and other means that an arrogant Alpha like you won’t ever understand!"

Dorrent stood silent for a long, heavy beat. He stared down at her pale, shivering frame, taking in the way her lower body leaned slightly against the bedpost to compensate for the hidden discomfort she had been masking for days. The icy barrier in his eyes softened just a fraction, replaced by something intense.

"Stop crying," Dorrent murmured, his deep voice carrying a steady weight.

He stepped into her personal space, completely ignoring her sharp gasp as he reached out with his arms and pulled her entire body into a tight, crushing hug. He wrapped his broad arms around her bare back, pressing her wet cheek into the soft fabric of his shirt, engulfing her frail frame in his overwhelming, dominant warmth.

"It will be okay," Dorrent whispered near her ear, his hand gently cupping the back of her head to hold her still. "Tell me... do you sometimes feel a heavy, dull pelvic pressure?"

Jannah froze inside his arms. The scent of his winter-frost pheromones was already wrapping around her senses, making her knees feel dangerously weak. "Once... once in a while," she muttered stubbornly against his chest, trying to push against his shoulders. "So what?!"

Dorrent let out a low, smooth rumble that vibrated right through her cheek. "I don’t think you have a tumor, Jannah."

Jannah’s head snapped up inside his grip, her dark eyes wide with defensive anger as she glared at his sharp jawline. "What is it then?!" she spat out sarcastically. "Since you are the great, brilliant doctor who studied medicine and I am just an uneducated slum girl!"

"Don’t put it that way," Dorrent corrected her instantly, his tone firm and direct. He lowered his head, his eyes locking straight into her dark irises. "You might be pregnant."

The words fell onto her like a bucket of freezing water.

Jannah’s mind went completely blank. Her lips parted, her breath hitching wildly as she stared at him in horrified disbelief. "There is... there is no way!" she gasped out, shaking her head frantically as panic clawed at her throat. "That’s only making matters worse! Stop saying such disgusting lies! I don’t have a single sign of pregnancy! And besides..." Her voice turned icy, dripping with pure bitterness. "...I don’t love you, Dorrent! I don’t love you, so I can NEVER be pregnant with your baby!"

Dorrent’s lips curled into a subtle, arrogant smirk that sent a shudder straight down her spine. "Not all women experience the standard pregnancy signs, Jannah," he purred smoothly, his thumb reaching out to trace the curve of her jaw. "And as for the part about loving me... you don’t need to verbally admit it. It’s your heart that betrays your thoughts."

"What?!" Jannah gasped, her face burning like fire.

"As much as you verbally hate me," Dorrent continued, his voice dropping into a thick, hypnotic rasp against her lips, "as much as you curse my name to the heavens, your heart beats entirely different whenever I am close to you."

"You arrogant, self-centered monster!" Jannah screamed, violently shoving her hands against his chest to pull out of his arms. She stumbled back against the mattress, her pale legs trembling as she clutched her towel. "How you wish! How you fucking wish I loved you! I am NOT pregnant, Dorrent! I am DYING of a disease, and you are standing here talking complete nonsense!"

Dorrent didn’t get angry. He stood his ground, taking a calm, deliberate step toward the bed, his eyes remaining fixed on her flushed lower face.

"Listen to me, little physician," Dorrent explained, his voice entirely professional yet thick with a possessive undertone. "You might be having a retroverted uterus. It’s a tilted womb where the baby grows backward toward the spine and the pelvic wall instead of expanding forward toward the belly. That is why you can’t feel a bump on your stomach yet. But as the tissue grows, it creates an intense, agonizing pelvic pressure that feels like a heavy weight crushing your lower back. It mimics the exact symptoms of a spinal tumor."

Jannah stared at him, her chest heaving violently. For a split second, her logical, herbalist mind processed his medical explanation, recognizing the undeniable accuracy of the anatomical structure he described. But the terror of carrying his child—of having his blood growing inside her—sent her pride into a wild tailspin.

"Get out!" Jannah shrieked, pointing her arm toward the door, tears spilling over her lashes once again. "Get the hell out of my room! Leave me alone!"

Dorrent looked at her, his eyes tracking the subtle way her fingers twitched against her thigh—a clear sign that the sharp, agonizing pressure in her lower pelvis was flaring up again.

"If you are feeling any discomfort in your pelvic area, I can help you," Dorrent offered low, his voice dropping into a purr as he closed the distance between them. "You don’t need to be strong in front of me, Jannah."