The Surgeon King's Secret Baby. Amy Ruttan

      If his brother had still been alive there wouldn’t be this guilt about forcing Reagan into this life Kainan never wanted. He was the “spare,” so he’s pursued medicine in order to escape Isla Hermosa. He’d gone to medical school in Switzerland and worked there. He’d been happy.

      He hadn’t ever planned on returning to Isla Hermosa after his brother became King, but then war had broke out and his brother had been killed.

      Kainan’s freedom had evaporated then. It had been obliterated.

      Inside he was screaming and raging, but if he tried to let it all out there would be no sound, and that made him rage all the more at his own stupidity. Yet he still wanted Reagan, and now his son. She’d been alone. She shouldn’t have been alone.

      I should never have let Reagan go.

      If he’d have been with her... He didn’t finish that thought, because it wouldn’t have changed the outcome at all.

      Their son would have been born with cardiomyopathy anyway. That was if he’d survived being born in a war-torn country. The thought made his stomach clench. He tried not to think about it.

      “Alek, you have to surrender. It’s done. Too many lives have been lost!”

      “I will not surrender! Father never would’ve backed down.”

      “He would if innocent blood was being spilled. What you’re doing is folly!”

      “You just want the crown for yourself, Kainan. I know you.”

      “You don’t know me. You’re completely absurd. I never wanted this. Never.”

      “Then why are you here?”

      “To save your life. You’re my brother, Alek...”

      “I’m your half brother.”

      “Half, then—but still I’m here to save you.”

      “Why?”

      “Because Father loved you. I’m doing this for Father.”

      Alek had sneered and shaken his head.

      “Always trying to please Father. But he’s dead and I am King. I will always be King.”

      Kainan shook those thoughts away. They were treading on dangerous ground. They were threatening his control. He’d tried to save his half brother’s life before Alek had been overthrown. He’d been trying to drag Alek out of the palace to safety just before the IED had gone off in the throne room.

      Kainan had survived the blast, but had lost his voice for his brother...his King.

      In the end his brother hadn’t survived after the explosion. So it had all been for naught.

      Which now made him King and his critically ill son his heir.

      His son who was dying.

      “Kainan, are you okay?”

      He turned and saw Reagan was looking up from the piles of paperwork.

      “Overwhelmed?” she asked gently.

      He smiled. “Under...” Only he couldn’t finish the word because his throat closed up, He felt humiliated by it.

      Her expression softened. “Statement? Understatement?”

      Then she smiled. That warm and friendly open smile which had won him over. She’d always tried to act so strong, but when he’d seen her smile at wounded soldiers, offering them compassion, he’d been won over time and time again. Reagan had reminded him of his mother—not in looks, but in strength and fortitude.

      His mother Ariana had been compassionate, strong, independent. She’d loved his father, even though his father hadn’t seemed able to love her back in the same way.

      When his mother had died he’d been so lonely. There had been no love in the palace. His father had stood on formality. As had his elder half brother Alek. Only his mother had given him affection.

      Reagan hadn’t known he was a prince. She’d been so honest. So warm. He’d craved that warmth. Needed it like air. She’d treated him like everyone else on the unit and with her he’d been himself. There had been no formality. No protocol. It had been nice to be himself for a change, instead of Prince Kainan.

      If there hadn’t been a war... If he was still the spare...

      He didn’t want to drag her into the tumultuous situation that was still happening in his country. Still, she’d borne his child and she would be in danger if word got out. If he married her he could protect her. He had to do right by her, even though that would mean her life wouldn’t be her own anymore. Even though he would be condemning her.

      Yes. That. He rubbed his temples, felt his throat tightening again.

      “I’m sorry there’s so much. I swear we’re almost done with the orientation.”

      Can we take a break? he signed.

      She cocked an eyebrow. “A break?”

      Coffee?

      He had to get out of this room. He felt as if he was suffocating again. Like when he’d woken up after the blast and not been able to breathe, with a tube in his throat, burns on his body.

      “Okay...”

      She seemed unsure. Confused.

      He was confused too—about this whole situation.

      When he’d felt this way in the past, surgery and practicing medicine—his work—had helped him get through so much. Saving lives made sense to him. It made sense of this mixed-up world.

      And he couldn’t do that anymore. He couldn’t be a proper surgeon because he couldn’t speak, and couldn’t sign when his hands were busy. He couldn’t lead his broken country for the same reason. He was trapped in limbo.

      They walked in silence to the coffee cart.

      Even though there were Hermosian guards all through this hospital, and he was being monitored by the Canadian government, no one besides those watching him for his own protection knew he was King.