Nine Hot Therians and Their Only One Queen novel Chapter 489

**When She Opened the Door to the Life She Was Afraid to Live by Nora Vale Kingsley**

**Chapter 489: The Pregnancy Symptoms**

Calum’s brow furrowed in confusion as he observed Emma at the dining table. She was filling her plate with an alarming abundance of meat and a steaming bowl of soup, while the vibrant vegetables sat untouched, neglected on the side. It was an unusual sight; Emma had always been the one to advocate for balanced meals, yet here she was, completely shunning the greens.

“Not a single carrot, not even a leaf of spinach,” he thought, shaking his head slightly. It was clear that something was amiss.

In that moment, Emma’s mind was a whirlwind of cravings—she felt an insatiable desire for meat, rich and hearty. The thought of vegetables was utterly unappealing, almost repulsive.

Calum, however, had already taken the liberty of adding some colorful veggies to her plate, and he was not entirely mistaken in his intentions. To avoid hurting his feelings, she forced herself to take a few bites, chewing slowly, the flavors clashing with her strong aversion. Each bite felt like a chore, but she did it for him.

—

In the bathroom, the atmosphere was thick with tension.

“Ugh…”

Lucien’s tall, slender form was hunched over, discomfort radiating off him like a palpable aura. One hand pressed against the frigid wall for support, while the other clutched his abdomen, desperately trying to quell the waves of pain that surged through him.

He could feel the pallor of his skin, as if he were a ghost, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead, glistening like tiny jewels under the stark bathroom light. His striking eyes, usually so vibrant, were now dulled and watery from the violent retching that had overtaken him.

This morning had been a struggle; he had barely eaten anything at all. His stomach was nearly empty, which meant that there was little to expel—only the relentless gagging and the bitter bile that scorched his throat. Each heave felt like fire, and the edges of his vision darkened ominously.

“Lucien, are you alright?”

Marcus’s voice cut through the haze of discomfort, his brow knitted with concern. Lines etched deep across his forehead told of his worry. Hadn’t Lucien just taken the potion Alaric had given him? Why was he now succumbing to this wave of nausea again?

“I… I’m fine…”

Lucien’s voice was a mere whisper, hoarse and strained, breaking mid-sentence as another harsh retch shook his frame.

“You’re definitely not fine.”

Marcus, seeing Lucien’s struggle, rushed to support him, wrapping an arm around his waist. “I’ll call Alaric—he might be able to help.”

With urgency, Marcus activated his lightcore and dialed Alaric’s number, the one Silas had entrusted him with. Silas had emphasized the importance of reaching out to Alaric immediately if Lucien’s condition worsened.

The line connected almost instantaneously.

“Who is this?” Alaric’s voice crackled through the receiver, laced with curiosity and concern.

Marcus hurriedly explained, “It’s Marcus. Lucien has started vomiting uncontrollably. He looks like he’s about to pass out. Can you come help?”

Alaric’s brow furrowed deeper, a frown forming as he processed the information. “Did he drink the potion I gave him?”

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