My Second Chance Mate is a Barbarian (Sera and Fenris) novel Chapter 243

Sera

“What? What are you apologizing for?”

Mina backed away. Her boots scuffed against the rug. I watched her swallow, her throat working hard under the pale skin of her neck. She started shaking her head. It was a rhythmic, frantic motion. None of this made any sense to her. She came low again, crouching so our eyes were level, and she let out a nervous, jagged laugh that died the second it hit the air.

“You’re hallucinating, Sera.” Mina’s voice was a forced whisper. She shook her head again, slower this time. “Elder Kael is not dead. I saw him. He was at the main halls today. He walked past the kitchens. He complained about the stew. What do you mean he’s dead?”

I swallowed. My mouth tasted of iron and salt. My heart pounded against my ribs, a heavy, dull vibration that I could experience in the tips of my fingers. Dread sat at the bottom of my stomach like a cold stone. I shook my head, my jaw tight.

“He is dead, Mina. I was there.”

Mina scoffed. She moved closer, her eyes darting toward the heavy oak door. She reached out and placed her hand firmly over my mouth, her palm smelling of lavender soap and the metallic scent of the comb she’d been using.

“You don’t know what you are saying,” she hissed.

“But I am serious.” I tried to speak through her fingers, the words coming out muffled and choked. My chest heaved. “It happened. I had to—”

Mina tightened her grip, her fingers digging into my cheeks. She leaned in until I could see the dark smudge of makeup on her eyelids. Through her teeth, she whispered, “Shut the fuck up. Stop spouting nonsense.”

Her hand was a physical pressure, a gag that tasted of nothing. I stayed still. I watched her eyes. Mina swallowed, her gaze locked on mine. She looked tired. Under the makeup she’d been applying, I could see the grey fatigue in her skin. She let go of my mouth. I didn't say anything. I didn't move.

“I don’t believe any of that,” Mina stated. She stood up, her movements stiff. “You can say it from now until tomorrow, but I am not willing to hear it. So please, shut the fuck up.”

“Okay?” she asked.

It was a command, not a question. Something was strange about her tone—a defensive wall she was building to keep the treason outside the room. I slowly nodded. Mina mirrored the motion, her shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch.

She looked down at my stomach. Her eyes narrowed, tracking the line of my dark wool tunic.

“Are you even sure you are really pregnant?” she asked.

I stared at her. The question caught me off guard. In all the chaos since the cellar, I hadn't considered the possibility that it wasn't real. But Madra had been so clinical. Fenris had been so reactive. I assumed their senses were the only proof required.

I shook my head, my thoughts tangling. “I... Madra was certain. She caught the scent. And Fenris... he caught it immediately. He wouldn't let it go. What other confirmation do I need?”

Mina stared at me while I spoke. Her face was a blank mask. She appeared lost in her own calculation. After a long minute, she nodded.

“It makes sense,” Mina said. Her voice lacked its usual warmth. “However, for your own sake, you need to confirm this. You need to be sure it doesn't belong to the Alpha.”

I shook my head. “That is not what I mean. That is a PTS. Something like that shouldn't exist in the North. Tech like that is banned.”

Mina looked at the stick. She spoke casually, as if she were discussing the weather. “I got it the same way I got the recording crystal you used on your mother. I hoard things, Sera. Is you forgetting my mother was from the South?”

She shook her head. “As Northern as I am, I don't enjoy the backwardness here. I keep things for myself.”

I stared at her. I had never considered hoarding anything. I had spent my life thinking I didn't need anything that wasn't provided for me. Until now.

“Get up,” Mina ordered. She pointed toward the bathroom. “Go use it. Then we will know what the next approach is.”

I nodded. I pushed myself up from the rug, my joints creaking. I took the stick from her. It felt light. Flimsy. It was a small piece of plastic that held the power to dismantle my entire life.

I walked into the restroom. I shut the door, the click of the latch sounding final. I stared at the stick. I remembered the stories from the South. Humans used these, but they had to wait for the morning to get a result. Southern wolves had developed their own version. It worked anytime. It was accurate.

If I were really pregnant, this thing would tell me in seconds.

“Fuck,” I cursed through my teeth.

* * *