Marked By the Pureblood Alpha (Deanna and Luis) novel Chapter 273

**Chapter 273: The Confession She Doesn’t Want to Hear**

**Deanna’s POV:**

I waved my hand dismissively, a gesture meant to brush away the weight of the past. “It’s fine. That’s all in the past.”

In truth, I had fully moved on from that entire situation. Those old memories felt like shadows, fading with each passing day, their significance diminished to mere whispers in my mind.

Soon enough, the waiter began to present plate after plate of beautifully arranged dishes, each one more extravagant than the last. The moment the distinct, fishy aroma wafted towards me, my stomach churned violently, and I instinctively covered my mouth, letting out a soft “ugh.”

Despite my morning sickness improving lately, the smell of seafood still turned my stomach. It was a strange irony; I had thought I was past the worst of it, yet here I was, grappling with an aversion to something so commonplace.

Malcolm, ever perceptive, glanced at me with concern etched on his face. “What’s wrong? Is the food not to your liking?”

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to respond. “I need to use the restroom.”

As I stepped into the bathroom, I splashed cold water onto my face, hoping it would quell the nausea that had taken hold of me. The coolness felt refreshing against my skin, and gradually, the queasiness subsided.

Emerging from the restroom, I spotted Malcolm waiting by the door, a warm, damp towel in his outstretched hand.

I accepted the towel gratefully, wiping my hands while offering him a smile that was genuine. “Mr. Faulkner, has anyone ever told you you’re very considerate?”

His eyes sparkled with warmth as he returned my smile. “I rarely eat dinner with women, and men don’t exactly compliment me on being considerate. You’re the first.”

Returning to the table, I noticed that all the seafood and fish dishes had been cleared away. His observational skills were nothing short of exceptional.

“Both times we’ve eaten together, you’ve gotten nauseous. Is your stomach bothering you? The medic at the Grisclaw Pack specializes in treating these kinds of conditions. I can introduce you.”

I shook my head, trying to maintain a light demeanor. “That’s not necessary. I’m just not used to the smell of fish.”

I couldn’t exactly divulge the truth—that I was pregnant and the very scent of seafood was enough to send my senses into a tailspin.

The remainder of the meal unfolded without incident, a quiet tension hanging in the air between us, punctuated by the clinking of cutlery against fine china.

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