His Ellie.

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Chapter 62

Elle felt a wave of unease ripple into her, just a touch to her mind and it was gone. She didn't recognize it to be her own emotions to it had to be Damien.
She looked at him, they were trolling around the woods that surrounded the mansion for some herbs. Damien could've sent a maid to fetch it but he had something to talk about with her, and so here they were. It was a good change, the winds didn't quite reach them, the canopy although dense was a little high and the lower tree growth was pretty dense. But the weather was indeed a little on the colder side.
She saw him looking around with furrowed eyebrows, then he scratched the beard that he had started growing recently. She liked the look on him but she preferred him with a stubble instead of this new full grown beard.
He turned right and started hiking up, stepping on boulders and then offering her a hand to take. She held the gown with one hand and held onto his hand with her other.
"What's bothering you, Milord?" she asked after another ten minutes spent in silence. He picked a few leaves of some random tree and put it in the haversack that he carried. then straightening up, he turned to her and gave her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"There's a stream down left from here, you'd like it." he replied instead. Elle was by nature not a person of patience, but sensing how vital this seemed to him, she decided to give him the space he needed.
He bent and pecked her lips when she nodded her head and the steered her from where she could her faint sounds of dancing water. He held her hand throughout the walk to the stream, and when they reached there, she took a moment to admire the beauty of the place. It was so serene, the stream was small, it's flow tranquil and it's water so pure she could see right through it. The sounds as the water travelled were equally calming, gentle and smooth, almost playful.
Damien started leading her into the water but she tugged him to a stop.
"My gown will get wet, and it's quite a walk to your mansion. It'll get heavy." she pouted at him.
Damien shook his head and picked her up in his arms, then carried her to a large boulder that sat somewhat in the middle of the stream. Although at a glance the water had not seemed deep, it was nearly over Lord Damien's knees when he stepped into it. He sat there on the boulder with her in his lap, his arms around her and her head resting on his chest.
They didn't speak for quite some time, only enjoying the view around them, listening to the symphony of the stream and the occasional chirping of birds unknown. She had pulled her gown up to her knees and dipped her feet in the water.
"Do you know what these herbs are for, my queen?" he asked all of a sudden. She shook her head a no and titled her head to look at him.
He wasn't looking at her, the stroking of his hands the only acknowledgement he showed to her attention.
"It's to avoid pregnancy."
She furrowed her brows at that, why was the King looking for those herbs then? She still had no complete knowledge about her heat, was still going through it's after effects.
Damien sighed and looked at her.
"I believe you know what heat is, the one that werewolf women go through?" He asked and she nodded her head.
"All shifters go through heat. It's their reproduction cycle, a call for mating when the female body is at the peak of it's fertility. Women in heat almost always end up conceiving, only on few rare occasions do they don't." he explained, his hands on her waist pulling her higher on his lap as she slid down a little.
" What does that have to do with us?"
Damien nuzzled her neck and she whimpered as he kissed her mark.
"You, my precious, went through your heat a couple of days back when you were heating with fever." she felt an ugly stab of guilt consume her heart, not hers but his, " When I left you alone." He completed.
"When you came for me." She countered. And then her mind was wrapped with confusion at the thought of heat. Had she really gone through something that only most animals and shifters went through? What no other vampire had ever went through? And then she made sense of what he had told her.
With wide eyes she looked at him, her thoughts going at what he was hinting to and then going blank. It was as if she was learning something new about herself, but her mind refused to personally react to the intel input. She was there and yet distant.
And then it all became real when his hand moved to her belly and stroked with his thumb. Her mind reeled over everything he had said.
"How is it possible?" She whispered. No vampire went through heat. She was a vampire, she too should not have gone through something like that. And such pain, such agony she had gone through. And now there was a possibility that she was pregnant? That she had a life in her.
"You are different. It's as if the rules don't apply to you at all. You are special. No vampire can take blood from it's own kind, especially not from a pure blood. You can. You can mark a man, something unprecedented." He answered instead.
There was silence again. There were a million thoughts going through her mind and yet none coming to her lips. And if words did form, her mouth refused to open.
"Are you saying that I'm pregnant? " She asked in a small voice. Her hand unconsciously went to her stomach, not knowing what to feel about it.
"I'm saying that you might me. And so the herbs" he said.
Damien was worried about this moment, not not what she would think, how she would react, what she would feel. Females were a little unpredictable like that when it came to children. When it came to motherhood, women were always emotionally bonded even if it was unasked for. It didn't matter if she wanted to be a mother, the moment a life sprouted in her womb, she would be a mother, in all the sense.
Elle wasn't ready for motherhood. Wasn't ready for a child.
They weren't ready. Their relationship required time to bloom.
He wouldn't deny that he wanted to be a father. He did. He had once been a father, loved his young more than he cared for his own life. His and Amara's symbol of love.
He was old, centuries old. He was lonely. And he craved a family. Even with Amara he had wanted children pretty early.
But Elle was young. Too young to have a child of her own.
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