Pregnant and Mated to Three Kings

Agreement

Isabella Hawthorne

A ripple of murmurs swept through the crowd, faces morphing from curiosity to judgment. I could practically hear the whispers swirling around me – "Shameless," "Harlot," "Bringing disgrace to the town." Each word felt like a hot coal pressed against my skin, but I stood there, rooted in place. "Wh0re."

Mayor Caldwell's face remained inscrutable. "I see," he said. "I believe you do know who the father is? Is it anyone among these Royal Majesties?"

"I...I don't know, Mayor," I stammered, tears blurring my vision. "I…"

My confession hung in the air, and the silence that followed was deafening.

Caldwell, though, just sighed, the sound heavy with something I couldn't decipher. "Ah," he said, eyes flitting between the fuming kings and the whispering crowd. "There's our mess. We need a plan, gentlemen. While the truth about Isabella's child remains shrouded, we cannot simply ignore the law or Isabella's own well-being."

A twitch of annoyance crossed Ulric's face, Draven's scales shimmered with barely contained fury, but Damien remained silent, eyes burning with an inscrutable fire.

Damien's voice dripped with venom. "Utter horseshit, Caldwell. Isabella's mine, destiny or not. No human law holds a candle to celestial decree." His eyes, black pits of hunger, raked over me, sending chills down my spine. He was gorgeous, sure, all moonlit marble and sharp angles, but right now, I saw a viper ready to strike.

Ulric growled. "Not a debate, Caldwell. The child's a Lycan, bound to me by nature itself. Deny it and you spit on the primal bond." His eyes, molten gold flecked with amber, scanned me like prey, both terrifying and weirdly alluring.

Draven said nothing, but his smoldering gaze burned like a thousand suns. He was all sharp edges and dangerous beauty, and the air crackled with the promise of his fury.

These guys were gods dipped in glitter, each one hotter than a supernova. In another life, I might have melted, but now? Fear turned my stomach to mush. I was a human caught in a supernatural tug-of-war, a pawn in their celestial chess game.

The thought of them brawling over my womb made me want to scream. They were titans, and I was a whisper. I craved the quiet life that vanished like smoke, not this power-mad drama.

My eyes darted between them, searching for a lifeline, a crack in their granite facades. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, the silence thick and suffocating. I had to find my voice, my power, before they carved my future in stone, before their games swallowed me whole.

Draven's fiery eyes crackled with impatience, the air around him shimmering with raw power. "I will not be dictated to by a plump, mortal mayor," he boomed, his voice shaking the very ground. "The child within this woman bears the mark of Nyxia, her destiny intertwined with my flames. She comes with me."

His words hung heavy in the air, laced with an unspoken threat. But Caldwell, surprisingly, remained unfazed. He puffed out his chest, his jowls quivering slightly. "Temper, temper, King Draven," he chuckled, though the sound lacked its usual jovial edge. "Remember, on human soil, even kings play by the rules. No coercing, no threatening, no wielding your fiery powers. Human choice here reigns supreme, protected by law and treaty."

Draven's muscles tensed, the air crackling with an unseen spark. His knuckles whitened around the hilt of his sword, knuckles burning like miniature suns. For a moment, it seemed as if dragonfire would erupt from him, consuming the square in an inferno of defiance. But just as quickly, he seemed to deflate, the inferno replaced by a simmering ember.

"Fine," he growled, his voice tight with barely controlled fury. "Let the woman herself decide."

All eyes turned to me, a spotlight of scrutiny burning into my soul. Panic rose in my throat, a tide threatening to drown me. This was not my life, not my choice. I felt like a pawn in an ancient game, my future tossed between kings and mayors like a coin with heads and tails equally terrifying.

I looked at Caldwell, my silent plea meeting his surprisingly steady gaze. He winked, a small, reassuring flicker in his perpetually surprised eyes. Then, in a voice trembling with fear and defiance, I echoed his words, the only act of agency I could muster in that stifling moment.

"I… I don't want any of this. None of it."

A stunned silence descended upon the square. The kings, caught off guard by my unexpected rejection, exchanged confused glances.

Caldwell, on the other hand, beamed like a sun rising over a field of sunflowers.

Mayor Caldwell's short laugh echoed through the tense square, a jarring sound amidst the simmering rage of the kings. "Gentlemen, cutting Isabella into thirds won't solve a thing," he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with a surprising audacity. "Unless you'd like to share the child, of course?"

His words, laced with dark humor, hung in the air, momentarily defusing the explosive atmosphere. The kings, despite their grudging respect for Caldwell's authority, remained scowls personified. He cleared his throat, his voice regaining its usual booming confidence.

"Look, rushing into this is madness. We need a plan, a civilized one. If Isabella is to choose one of you," he gestured towards the three, "will the others simply...accept defeat?"

Ulric rumbled a guttural response, his eyes burning gold. "I'll wage war, raze the land of any bastard who dares claim Isabella as his own."

Damien followed suit, his voice a silken hiss. "No one takes my mate, my child. They will face eternal darkness if they even attempt it."

Draven remained silent, but the air crackled with his unspoken fury. His eyes held the promise of fiery retribution.

Caldwell clapped his hands, drawing their attention back to him. "See, Your Majesties? This is precisely why we need a plan! Our nation just tasted peace, and I, for one, have no desire to see it bleed again." He turned to me, his gaze softening slightly. "And what about the Human President, Elijah Hearts? Do you think he'd take kindly to his people being caught in your supernatural squabbles? We humans, while without supernatural powers, can defend our own."

My stomach churned at the thought of President Hearts, a man known for his ruthless efficiency against oppressors. The image of human weaponry, advanced and terrifying, sent shivers down my spine.

Ulric finally spoke. "Fine, Caldwell. You've made your point. What do you propose?"

A sly smile spread across Caldwell's face, splitting his cheeks like a ripe pumpkin. "We'll dedicate our resources, at the humans' expense, of course, to uncovering the child's father. While that happens, Isabella will remain under my care, in the heart of our human city." His eyes met mine, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "What do you say, Isabella? Do you trust your own people to protect you?"

The question hung heavy in the air. I knew Caldwell was far from a saint, his motives suspect at best. But compared to the volatile promises of the kings, his offer felt like a lifeline. Theodore Caldwell wouldn't betray me, would he? He wouldn't risk the President's wrath.

Taking a deep breath, I met Caldwell's gaze, my voice steady. "Yes, Mayor. I agree."