Knotting His Rejected Breeder

SONIA’S POV

I woke to the sound of birds outside the window. For one quiet moment, I forgot where I was.

Then my stomach rolled.

I threw the blanket aside and barely made it to the basin beside the bed before I retched. Nothing much came up, only bitter water. My body shook anyway.

"Sonia!"

Ivy was beside me in seconds, pulling my hair away from my face.

"Easy," she whispered, rubbing slow circles over my back.

I stayed bent over the basin until the sickness finally eased.

"I’m fine," I breathed.

"You always say that." Her voice stayed soft. She came over and helped me sit up, one arm behind my back, the pillow felt warm from where my head had rested. I leaned against her for a second.

"Drink this slow," she said. She brought me water in a plain cup, I took small sips and it helped settle my stomach a bit. "You do not have to do everything for me," I told her. My voice came out rough from sleep.

"I want to. Let me," she answered.

She brought a small cloth next and wiped my face gently. The cool water felt good against my skin, we did not talk much at first. She moved around the room quietly, folding the blanket I had kicked off in the night, her steps made soft sounds on the wooden floor. It felt nice having her here, likeI was not carrying everything alone.

Later I sat by the window with my mother’s book in my lap, the cover felt smooth under my fingers. I opened it carefully, the words were written in her hand. Each line felt like she sat next to me.

Ivy watched me from the chair. "Does it help?" she asked.

"A little," I said. "It makes me feel less alone." I read slowly, tracing the letters with my finger.

The book spoke about strength in hard times, about protecting what you love. I turned to another page.

If you’re reading this, then life didn’t become easier the way I prayed it would.

My fingers froze.

Don’t let bitterness become your home. Fight when you must. Rest when you can. Love without shame.

My eyes blurred.

"Mother..." I whispered.

A memory came then. Not full. Just pieces. The night I was attacked. The feeling stayed with me even after the image faded, my chest got tight.

Ivy leaned forward. "What is it? You went quiet."

"Just a flash," I said. "The night everything changed. I saw his face for a second. Ramon."

She nodded slowly. "Does it hurt?"

"Not as much as before." I closed the book and held it against me.

Gerald and Stella came in after that. They treated me like I still belonged in a castle. Gerald bowed his head when he entered.

"Good morning, princess." His voice stayed low and kind.

Stella carried a tray with light food, bread was still warm from the oven, some fruit cut small and she set it down carefully on the table by the window.

"We thought this might sit easy today," she said, her eyes looking at my belly for a second and did not say anything about it.

She just smiled softly. "If you need anything else, just call."

"Thank you," I said.

It felt strange to be cared for like this again. In Bloodmoon I had learned to do most things myself. Here they made me feel like I still mattered. Like my child mattered.

I ate slowly while they moved around the room. They dusted the shelves. They opened the window wider to let fresh air in. Gerald told a small story about the garden outside. How the flowers grew strong even after the house sat empty for years. I listened and felt some of the tiredness lift.

"You look better already," Stella said when she took the empty tray. "The little one must like the bread."

I smiled a little. "I think so too."

They left after a while. Ivy sat next to me on the bed. "They are good people," she said.

"They are," I agreed. "It feels strange though. Being treated like this again."

"You deserve it," she said. Her hand rested on my arm for a second. "You and the baby both."

I worried about my father the whole time. He would be angry. I knew that. The thought of him sending wolves after me made my hands shake around the cup. What would happen if he found me here? What would happen to my baby?

Sometimes I wondered if Ramon hated me now.

Maybe he believed I had abandoned him. Maybe he never wanted to see me again.

That thought hurt more than I wanted to admit.

The questions sat heavy in my chest. I did not say them out loud. Ivy watched me sometimes like she could see the worry anyway. She did not push. She just stayed close.

That helped more than words could.

I wanted safety. I wanted a place where my child could grow up without fear. I wanted love that did not come with chains or lies. The yearning sat quiet inside me. Not loud. Just there.

A soft ache for something simple and real. For mornings where I did not wake up scared. For nights where I did not dream about the past. I touched my belly again. The small movement inside reminded me why I left. Why did I have to keep going?

Ivy sat next to me after the servants left. We talked about small things. The food. The weather. How the house felt different in daylight. Her voice stayed calm. It made the room feel warmer. I leaned my head on her shoulder for a minute. She did not move away. We stayed like that until the sun climbed higher.

Later I rested on the bed again. My body still felt tired. The nausea had gone down but the fatigue stayed. I closed my eyes.

"Come," Ivy said.

"Just to the garden."

"I don’t think—"

"Five minutes."

"If you get tired, we’ll come back."

I nodded but yet, the pull came then. Strange and warm in my chest. It felt like something was reaching for me. Not pain. Not fear. Just a gentle tug I could not explain.

My hand went to my belly without thinking. The baby moved again, soft and steady. I whispered the words before I could stop them. "We’re safe... right?"