Page 44 of Royal Beast (Royals of the Underworld #1)

KELLAN

D arcy’s arms wrap tightly around her middle, her posture stiff as the words hang between us. A cold knot twists in my stomach, the uncertainty in her gaze setting every nerve on edge.

“What is it?” I ask, my brow furrowing as I try to understand.

She shakes her head, stepping closer. “Not here,” she murmurs. “Let’s go out into the hallway.”

Her hand finds my arm, her touch hesitant but firm enough to guide me. We leave Rose in the hospital bed, her attention on the cartoon characters bouncing around the screen.

Darcy leads me into the hallway, the sterile scent of antiseptic sharp in the air. We stand just outside the door, with Darcy looking up and down the corridor as though checking that no one can overhear us. I frown, studying her more closely. There’s a trickle of fear in her eyes.

“It’s something I should have told you a long time ago,” she begins, her voice trembling, “but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Not until now. Not until I saw how hard you fought to protect that little girl in there.”

The way her voice cracks twists the knot in my stomach tighter.

“Rose…” She swallows hard, bracing herself. “Rose is yours, Kellan. She’s your daughter. Biologically.”

Her words echo in my head like a gunshot. Rose… Rose is yours, Kellan. She’s your daughter. Biologically.

I stare at her, the ground feeling unsteady beneath my feet. My pulse pounds in my ears as I try to make sense of what she’s just said. My daughter. She’s mine.

For a second, I feel frustration stirring.

How could she have kept this from me? But when I look at Darcy, really look at her, the anger evaporates.

Her shoulders are rigid, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle, like she’s bracing for impact.

Her bottom lip trembles, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She’s terrified.

“When I found out I was pregnant with Rose,” she begins, her eyes focused somewhere beyond me, “I wanted to tell you. I really did. But I was scared. I mean, terrified.”

“Of me?” I ask, my chest tightening.

She shakes her head quickly. “No, not you. Not entirely. It was everything around you. The night I went to the pub with my father and we met, it was like stepping into another world. It was intriguing, but I knew it was dangerous.”

My jaw clenches at the memory of her father’s involvement in our world, the debts, the schemes.

“You were charming,” she admits, her lips curving in the faintest smile. “And kind in a way I didn’t expect. But that world you were part of… it scared me.”

Her voice falters, and she takes a deep breath before continuing.

“After I found out I was pregnant, I saw something. I was walking by the Brannagan pub, hoping to work up the courage to talk to you. And then I saw you with a group of men, arguing. One of them pulled a knife, and before I even knew what was happening, you had him on the ground.”

I wince, the memory surfacing. I remember the incident—it was business, nothing more—but through her eyes, I can imagine how it looked.

“I told myself it wasn’t my place to judge,” she continues. “But when I felt Rose kicking for the first time, I realized I couldn’t bring her into that world. I couldn’t take the risk.”

Her voice grows quieter, more strained. “But then she started asking questions. About you. About why she didn’t have a dad when other kids did. I didn’t know what to say to her, so I just… made things up. And every time I did, I hated myself a little more for keeping you in the dark.”

“Darcy…” I begin, but she holds up a hand.

“Let me finish,” she pleads. “The truth is, I was selfish. I was trying to protect her, but I was also trying to protect myself. I didn’t want to face the possibility that I might have been wrong about you.”

Her voice cracks, and she finally sits down, her hands trembling as they rest in her lap.

“But I was wrong, Kellan. I see that now. Watching you with her today, seeing how far you’re willing to go for her safety—it’s everything I ever wanted for her.

And I hate that I waited so long to give you the chance to be that for her. ”

“Darcy,” I say, my voice calm but firm, my hands reaching for her shoulders. She stiffens at first, but I keep my touch gentle. “Listen to me. I’m not upset. Not anymore.”

“You’re not?” she asks, her voice a whisper of disbelief.

I shake my head, letting out a breath. “No, I’m not. The old me… yeah, I might’ve reacted badly back then. I might’ve stormed off, shouted, blamed you for keeping this from me. But now…”

Now I know better.

The memory comes rushing back, clearer than it’s been in years.

It was a busy night at the pub. I was there doing some business, running numbers for an expansion to our car part import “business”, and that’s when I saw her.

Darcy walked in behind her father, who was already blustering about luck and bets and connections to anyone who’d listen. I barely noticed him. All I could see was her—those dark curls falling over her shoulders, her blue eyes darting around the pub like she wasn’t sure she wanted to be there.

I wasn’t sure what compelled me, but I crossed the room, offering her a drink before she’d even sat down. Her father rolled his eyes, but Darcy smiled—a soft, hesitant thing that lit something inside me.

“You always approach strangers like this?” she asked, one brow arching.

“Only the ones I can’t stop staring at,” I said, surprising even myself with my honesty.

Her laugh was low and warm, and it hooked me instantly.

We talked for hours, long after her father had wandered off to the bar to join some of his old drinking buddies.

We talked about music, her love for sketching, my half-hearted attempts at cooking.

She teased me about my terrible taste in whiskey, and I teased her right back about her choice of sugary cocktails.

By the time the pub closed, I couldn’t let her go. I invited her to my place—a smaller apartment back then, nothing fancy. To my surprise, she agreed.

We spent the night talking, laughing, and eventually, more. The next morning, she was gone before I woke up. There was no note, no goodbye, just the lingering scent of her perfume on my pillow.

I told myself it didn’t matter. That it was a one-time thing. But when I realized how often she was on my mind and how just the thought of her made my chest ache, I knew I was smitten.

I tried to reach out, but Darcy brushed me off every time. I told myself to forget her, to move on. And I almost did. That is, until I saw her again.

She was walking down the street, her arms full of groceries, when one of the men her father owed money to stepped in her path. He had that smug look about him, the one that said he’d already decided she was his leverage.

I didn’t even think. I called him off, paid the debt myself, and made it clear that no one was to lay a hand on her. She never knew.

I’d decided then that if I couldn’t have her, I’d be her protector.

Back in the present, Darcy’s voice pulls me from the memory. “Kellan?” she says softly, her fingers brushing my arm.

“I get it,” I tell her, my voice rough. “You were right to keep her from me back then. I wasn’t someone she needed in her life.”

Darcy opens her mouth, but I press on before she can argue.

“That doesn’t mean I’m letting you off the hook,” I add, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “You should’ve told me. I deserved to know. But I understand why you didn’t.”

Relief flashes across her face, but it’s quickly replaced by something else. Uncertainty.

“I’ll tell you something else,” I continue, stepping back to give her space. “Since you’ve come into my life, you and Rose have been put in danger more times than I can count. I won’t do that to you anymore, Darcy. If you want out—if you want to be free of me—I’ll let you go.”

Her eyes widen, her lips parting in surprise. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I won’t force you to stay,” I say firmly. “I’ll make sure you and Rose are protected, no matter what. But I’m not going to keep you here if it’s not what you want.”

Her chin quivers, and she looks away, her fingers curling around her arm. “You’re serious,” she whispers.

“I am,” I say, though the words tear at something inside me. “I’m not the same man I was before. You deserve the freedom to choose.”

“No.” Her voice is firm now, steady. “You don’t get to decide what I deserve.

I watched you today, Kellan. I saw the way you fought for Rose.

I know you sent Miles and Brody after Guy, even though you didn’t have to.

You came immediately when I called, even though you were busy, and I know you were dealing with some tough shit that day. Liam told me about it.

She pauses and bites her lip, then pulls me closer. “You’re not the man you used to be. You’re not the monster you think you are.”

Her words hit something deep inside me, a place I’ve kept buried for years. I open my mouth to respond, but she presses on.

“I know about the hospital bills,” she says quietly. “For Max. The administrator told me you paid for everything, all the cancer treatments, the respite care… Kellan, why?”

I glance away, swallowing hard. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” she says. “Why did you want this marriage, Kellan? Why did you choose this? Why us?”

The question pierces through my defenses.

I take a deep breath, rubbing a hand over my face.

“Because I’ve been watching you,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Ever since that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.

About what happened. And when I saw what your father was putting you through, I… ” I trail off, shaking my head.

“You what?” Darcy presses.

“I wanted to protect you,” I say finally. “I thought if I could keep you close, I could keep you safe. But I didn’t realize that the person you needed protection from the most was me.”

Her expression softens, and she steps closer, leaving me with nowhere to go.

“Kellan,” she says, her voice gentle. “You’re wrong.”

She reaches for me, her fingers brushing against my jaw. I close my eyes at the contact, leaning into her touch despite myself.

“I love you,” she says softly. “You’re not perfect, but neither am I. If you promise to keep us safe—if you promise to be there for us, always—I want to stay with you.”

My chest tightens, something shifting deep inside me.

“Can you tell me you feel the same?” she asks, her voice trembling.

I open my mouth to answer, but before I can, a small voice cries out from the hospital room.

“Mama! Daddy! Help!”

Darcy and I both turn, our conversation forgotten as we rush back into the room. Rose’s voice calls out again, her tone panicked.

“Mama! Help me!”

As we enter the room, I decide to talk to Darcy about this later. Whatever I have to say to her will have to wait because right now, our daughter needs us.