Semua Bab Pregnant for the ruthless billionaire vampire: Bab 1 - Bab 10

ELENA'S POV The words kept echoing. “I'm pregnant with his child.” My chest caved in. I stood perfectly still because moving felt like a risk, and because two years of this household had taught me that falling in front of vampires was something you only did once if you were smart about it. Lucian was going to be a father. Just not with me. I kept my eyes down. It was the only armor I had and I held it with both hands while Viviana's announcement settled over the room. Logan shoved me forward. I stumbled into the council chamber and caught myself. The impact jolted through my palms and I was grateful for something physical to focus on. Ancient vampires looked at me. Gold eyes, red eyes, violet. The brief assessment of creatures cataloguing something that had wandered into the wrong room. "Why is a blood servant in this chamber?" Lucian finally looked up. His silver eyes found mine across the room and I waited. Some surviving piece of me waited, for something. Some acknowledgm

ELENA'S POV I lay in the unfamiliar bed for hours, listening to the rain against the windows. Every time exhaustion pulled me under, something dragged me back. Lucian's voice. The alley. The female vampire's hand moving toward my stomach. I'd shift position and feel the ache in my scraped palms and remember all over again. By the time gray light started showing at the edges of the curtains, I had stopped trying. I didn't sleep. I lay there staring at the ceiling with one hand on my stomach and my phone in the other. *Meet me tomorrow at midnight. Central Park, Bethesda Fountain. Come alone, or your secret dies with you.* What secret? What did Viviana know? And why meet alone? It was obviously a trap. Even I, with zero experience in supernatural politics, could see that. But what if it wasn't? What if she knew something about my baby? About the Nightshade bloodline? I had to know. Sunlight crept through the window. Morning. I'd made it through the night. I sat up slowly. My

ELENA'S POV The GPS said forty-three more miles. Forty-three miles of dark mountain roads, black trees swallowing the headlights on both sides, and Viviana Drakov slowly dying in the passenger seat. "You're gripping the wheel too hard," she said. "I can hear your knuckles cracking." "I'm driving. Stop talking." "Talking keeps me conscious." "Then say something useful." I kept my eyes on the road. "And forget Lucian for a second. Tell me about Morgana. How many people does she control inside the council?" She shifted in her seat and winced. Even in the dark I could see the black veins spreading up the side of her neck. "More than anyone knows," she said. "She's been building influence for centuries. The poisoning tonight wasn't just about me, it was a message to anyone else considering talking." "And she did it right in front of Lucian." "He was there," Viviana said. "Did he know?" "No." "You keep saying that." "Because it keeps being true." I said nothing.

ELENA'S POV "Tell me what to do," I said. "Right now. Tell me everything." Seraphine didn't stop her compressions. "The ritual requires your blood as the base catalyst. But not just drops this time. You need to push your power through it consciously. Direct it into her heart and force it to restart." "I don't know how to do that." "You killed two vampires three hours ago without training." "That was instinct. That was anger…." "Then find something to be angry about," Seraphine snapped. "Because she has forty seconds." I grabbed the silver dagger from my hip and sliced across my palm. The blood rose immediately, and this time I felt it differently. Not just warmth. Something alive. Something that recognized the blade and the intention behind it and responded like it had been waiting to be called. "Now what?" I demanded. "Put your bleeding hand over her heart. Don't touch her chest. Hold it above. And push. Like you're forcing something through a locked door." I

ELENA'S POV The silence after those words was the loudest thing I'd ever heard. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Even the wind outside seemed to pull back like it was waiting to see what happened next. Then I laughed. Not the kind of laugh that meant something was funny. The kind that came from somewhere past exhaustion and fear and two days of running for my life. The kind that said I had officially reached my limit. "Belongs to you," I repeated. "My baby. Belongs to you." Ryker's expression didn't change. "It's not personal. It's the law." "Forget the treaty for one second," I snapped. "Viviana was about to tell us who ordered her death before your pack came crashing through the windows.” "If the other packs arrive first, none of us will be alive long enough to hear it.” "It's not law," I said. "It's a piece of paper three hundred years old that was written about a bloodline everyone thought was dead. It has nothing to do with me or my child." "The moment your blood aw