Caspian carried Mirabelle into his bedroom, his strides purposeful and his grip firm yet careful.
He placed her gently on the large, plush bed, her body instinctively curling into a fetal position as a faint moan escaped her lips.
She shifted slightly, her brows furrowed as if she were caught between sleep and discomfort. His red eyes softened momentarily, watching her settle into the massive bed that dwarfed her small frame.
Moments later, after Caspian had changed into more comfortable clothing, a knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. A housemaid entered, her head bowed respectfully.
"Alpha Prince Caspian, the doctor has arrived," she informed him.
"Bring him in," Caspian replied curtly, waving her off.
Dr. Harlow entered the room soon after, his medical bag in hand. The older man was accustomed to the unique ailments of werewolves and their mates, and he wasted no time getting to work.
