Mated To The Crippled Alpha-Chapter 408: Something is Wrong

Whitney held Wallace’s gaze for a long moment before releasing his hand. "Thank you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was sitting in the air between them something unnamed and slightly too still. I told myself I was probably imagining it and moved quickly to Whitney’s side. "Let me walk you to the bathroom. I don’t want you going down again."

She nodded and leaned into my arm, her steps small and careful. She was still weak, the world clearly swimming around her. I got her to the bathroom and back without incident, then settled her into bed just as the servant arrived with breakfast.

I turned to Wallace with a polite smile. "Dr. Mervin, you’ve been up all night. Please eat something and then rest in the guest room."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hale." He set a folded paper on the bedside table. "The prescription for Ms. Morrigan. Have it filled, but hold off on starting the herbs until the cold has fully passed. The body needs to clear first."

"Understood."

I sat beside Whitney and fed her slowly, spoonful by spoonful, and she accepted it without complaint, too tired to do much else. When she’d eaten enough, I wiped her lips gently with a napkin and touched her forehead. Still warm, but less than before. "You’re still running a slight fever. Rest now. We’ll do another IV this afternoon."

She nodded faintly, then glanced toward Wallace. "Thank you, Dr. Mervin."

He set down his bowl and dabbed his mouth. "It’s nothing." His voice was even and unhurried, the way it always was.

With Whitney’s condition steadying, some of the tightness in my chest eased. She took her medicine and slipped into sleep quickly. Wallace rose and moved toward the door. "I’ll be at the Hale residence for the next couple of days. If anything changes, don’t hesitate."

"Okay," Whitney murmured, already half-gone. But her eyes followed him to the door just for a second, like she was holding something back that she’d decided not to say.

Once she was asleep, I pulled the door quietly shut and led Wallace toward the guest room. "Dr. Mervin since you’re familiar with pulse reading, would you mind checking mine as well?"

He was Lewis’s person. I had no hesitation asking.

"Of course," he said simply.

We sat at the stone table in the garden. The morning light was clean and pale after last night’s rain. I rested my arm on the table and his cool fingers settled over my pulse, steady and practiced. After a short silence, he withdrew his hand.

"Mrs. Hale your digestion is slightly weak. It could affect the baby’s nutrient absorption a little, but there’s no cause for alarm. A careful diet and proper rest will correct it. The baby itself is completely healthy."

Something in me unknotted at those words. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

Just then, Alisa passed through the garden on her way inside. I called out before I’d thought too much about it. "Alisa Dr. Mervin is here. Why don’t you let him check your pulse too? It won’t take a moment."

Her expression shifted almost imperceptibly. "That’s really not necessary, Aunt Elena. My baby’s fine."

"It’s no trouble," I said lightly. "He’s excellent, and it’s completely harmless."

Wallace looked at her calmly. "Nothing to worry about, ma’am."

Alisa hesitated, then sat. "Thank you, Dr. Mervin."

He took his time, fingers resting lightly on her wrist, his expression unreadable. After a moment, Alisa offered a careful smile. "Everything’s fine, isn’t it? The baby’s healthy?"

Wallace held her gaze for a beat before nodding. "Everything appears fine. But it’s still important to be careful."

"Thank you." The relief on her face was visible.

I glanced at the time. "Dr. Mervin, you’ve been on your feet since last night. I won’t keep you any longer please get some rest." I led him to the guest room on the first floor, already prepared and quiet. "If you need anything, just ask the staff."

"You’re very kind, Mrs. Hale."

I pulled his door shut and stood for a moment in the hallway, then drifted toward the window where the garden was still glittering with last night’s rain. The air outside was clean and sharp, the kind that came only after a real storm had passed through and taken everything stale with it. I stood there and breathed.

Alisa had set up her easel in the garden and was painting with quiet concentration when I came downstairs. I wandered over. "You’re not tired of painting?"

She looked up with a serene smile. "There’s a charity sale at the children’s center coming up. I want to finish as many pieces as I can it’s a small way to give back. And maybe it’ll bring good things to the baby."

"That’s a lovely thought," I said, and meant it.

Her eyes brightened. "You should come to the event, Aunt Elena. You don’t have much to do at home right now."

I shook my head gently. "I haven’t been feeling my best. I’d rather not risk it. But I can donate some things for the sale that counts for something."

"Of course," she said with a nod. "First trimester. Better to be careful."

I went upstairs, collected some yarn, and settled in with an online crochet tutorial trying to keep my hands busy while my mind did something else entirely. My gaze kept drifting back to the garden below, to Alisa’s brush moving in steady, practiced strokes.

Why had she been so reluctant when Wallace first offered to check her pulse? A simple, non-invasive reading something a pregnant woman should welcome, not hesitate over. It was such a small thing. And yet.

I thought about what I knew of Alisa. She had used medication to conceive Luke’s child under circumstances that took real nerve and real calculation. She had risked a great deal to secure her position in the Hale household. I had always read that as love desperate, perhaps unwise, but real. Now I wasn’t entirely sure what it was.

I rubbed my temple and made myself stop. These days I was seeing shadows in everything. Pregnancy, stress, Wisteria’s message, the head in the box any one of those things would have been enough to tilt a person’s perspective. All of them together had turned me into someone who read threat into a woman painting flowers for a charity sale.

I crocheted and tried to think about nothing.

Alisa glanced up at me occasionally through the morning, but neither of us said anything, and eventually she took her canvas and went inside. I stayed where I was until noon had passed and the house had gone quiet, making sure neither Whitney nor Wallace was disturbed.

It was mid-afternoon when Wallace finally came out of his room. I fell into step behind him as he moved toward Whitney’s. He paused at the door and spoke without turning. "Mrs. Hale she hasn’t fully recovered. No drafts. Please close the door."

"Of course."

I shut it gently behind us. Wallace crossed to Whitney and held out the thermometer. Their fingers touched for the briefest moment as she took it, and she pulled her hand back quickly, startled or something like it. Wallace’s expression didn’t change. He simply waited while she took her temperature, then turned to me with a measured, careful look.

His voice dropped low. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

"Mrs. Hale there’s an issue with Ms. Hudson’s baby."