Luna Queen

19 - Anathema

"I miss you," his calm, growling tone sent shivers down my spine and lower.

"I miss you too, Nathan."

"When do you get back?" He asks as I giggle out quietly.

"I literally just got here."

"So?" He sounded tired, and I almost felt as though I should cater the next flight to meet him as soon as I can.

"How's Sativa and Romanov?" I smiled at his tone of concern - after all, she is his little sister. "I heard Klaus is being more of a bastard than normal."

I sighed, "You could say that."

"Is something wrong?" Now, his concern is aimed at me.

I grip the phone tighter, "I have to go." I nervously wring my fingers together, hoping that he understood.

"So do I," he sighed harshly, sounding regretful. "Pack work is beginning to wear me out. Honestly, I do not know how Romanov handles all this crap daily."

"It's only for a few more days," I console gently. I wished that I could tell him about my ordeal a few minutes earlier - I knew that it would do nothing but gladden him - but I couldn't.

"Yeah, a few more days."

The line is silent for a while, each of us basking in the presence of each other, before I decided to break it.

"I have to go now, it's time for dinner." I swallow, I hated lying; and dinner wasn't until a few more hours. But, according to the different time zones for each country, Russia's time should be very different from America's. Hopefully, he wouldn't check it closely.

"Very well," he murmured gently. "Night, my Love."

I smile at his words, "Night."

I drop the phone on the table with a sigh as I walked over to the curtains, throwing them open to reveal the afternoon sun.

Sativa had been here, but she must have left when I went to the bathroom. I slide unto the window seating, staring out at the winter white snow covering the ground in a thin blanket. I was glad that the curse was finally going to be removed, but worried at Vladimir's plan. He hadn't told Sativa that his way would mean my father coming back to life. And, that was to be a sanely dangerous recovery.

My father was a madman.

Leaning my head on the cool stadium of the window, I cannot help the hand that roams down to my stomach.

I close my eyes, the stubborn godfather would be more than happy with the news. My headstrong brother would be a little angered by it, and his zealous mate would be on Cloud Nine. But Nathan - I couldn't say for a certain word of his reaction to this.

I could tell him in a letter.

Or, I could just mail a picture and a poem to him.

And then, there's me walking up to him, taking him by the hand and saying with a magnum amount of confidence, "Nathan, I have something to tell you."

He would look at me with caution as he always does whenever I utter those eight words, and he will ask, "I pray that you are alright?"

And I will nod, before taking a deep breathe to say what I've wanted to for a long moment in time now.

I will say, "I'm pregnant."

And then, he might faint.

Like the last time.

-

Azoic, Rostov Oblast
North Russia - Russian Fed; Population: 82,356
Romanov's Estate House