Fated to the Alpha Who Killed Me (by Sherry) novel Chapter 84

Chapter 84

Violet’s POV:

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Victoria’s sitting room was nothing like the formal reception areas downstairs–this space belonged entirely

to her, filled with family photographs in ornate frames, antique tea sets in glass cabinets, and soft cream

furniture that invited intimate conversation. She closed the door with a quiet click, then turned to face me

with an expression that made my stomach clench.

“Violet, darling,” she began, her voice dropping to that conspiratorial tone mothers use for delicate matters,

“did you go to the apothecary like I suggested? Did you get those herbal supplements for Daemon?” Her

eyes held genuine hope mixed with cautious optimism that made me realize she’d been planning this

conversation for days.

Heat crawled up my neck as my mind immediately conjured that night–Daemon’s hands gripping my hips

hard enough to bruise, the mechanical precision of his movements, the way he’d pulled away the moment it

was over. I forced the images down and managed what I hoped was a casual nod. “I did. I’ve been making it

into a special tea blend for him.”

Victoria’s face lit up with satisfaction, her shoulders visibly relaxing as she squeezed my hand with maternal

affection that felt simultaneously genuine and like another weight settling onto my chest. “That’s

wonderful, dear. You must keep it up consistently–I guarantee it’ll help you have a strong baby boy.” She

paused, then added with a softer smile, “Though a beautiful baby girl would be even more precious, wouldn’t

she?”

I returned her smile because that was expected, but inside something twisted painfully at the casual way

she spoke about pregnancies and babies as though they were inevitable rather than impossible. I absolutely

cannot get pregnant with Daemon’s child right now–not when I’m trying to extract myself from this bond.

A baby would trap me here forever, would give him leverage even after we broke the mate bond. Let Celeste

give the Blackwoods their heirs after Daemon finally claimed his true mate.

She gestured toward the plush velvet sofa near the window, and I sank into it, my body remembering

exhaustion I’d been pushing away all morning. My gaze drifted to the wall where a large family portrait

hung–Dominic and Victoria flanked by their kids, all looking powerful and unified. There was Daemon,

younger but already carrying that same distant coldness in his eyes.

My mind kept circling back to how different everyone seemed since my rebirth–Celeste’s genuine

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sweetness, Victoria’s maternal warmth, even Evan showing unexpected tenderness beneath his usual

reserve, and Daemon himself had shifted in ways I couldn’t quite define. Had they all truly changed, or was

I finally seeing them clearly for the first time? The thought unsettled me because if everyone around me

was different now–softer, more complex than I’d remembered–then what else was spinning beyond my

control? What if my interference was pushing everything toward outcomes I couldn’t predict?

Victoria reached over and covered my hand with hers, her palm warm against my suddenly cold fingers.

“Don’t put too much pressure on yourself, dear,” she said softly. “These things happen when they’re meant

1. to. A child is a blessing, not a task to be completed on a schedule.”

I nodded and murmured something appropriate, but internally I was thinking about how no child deserved

to grow up with a father whose heart belonged to another woman, who would look at their mother with

barely concealed resentment for existing instead of the person he actually wanted.

“Come,” Victoria said, rising gracefully, “let’s go check on the men before they get into trouble without

proper supervision.” I followed her downstairs until we reached the terrace doors overlooking the back lawn.

The scene that greeted us through the floor–to–ceiling windows made me freeze mid–step. Daemon was

crouched in the snow beside his two–year–old nephew Asher, his large hands steadying the boy’s grip on a

miniature bow. The child was concentrating fiercely on the target several meters away, and Daemon

adjusted his stance with infinite patience, his deep voice too quiet to hear but his body language speaking

volumes about the care he was taking.

When the arrow finally released, it wobbled through the air before planting itself uselessly in the snow

several feet from the target, but instead of criticism, Daemon immediately ruffled the kid’s hair. “Good try,

buddy. We’ll practice more,” I read on his lips.

Something in my chest cracked open painfully because he would be such a good father–patient,

encouraging, protective without being smothering. Just not to my child.

The drive to Moonstone Spa should have been relaxing–Victoria had insisted I join her and Dominic’s two

older sisters for “proper pampering time” at the city’s most exclusive beauty center. The three women settled

into the SUV’s back seat, immediately launching into animated conversation. I focused on navigating the

snow–slicked roads.

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17:07 Mon, Jun 8

Fated to the Alpha Who Killed Me

Chapter 85