#Chapter 490- Ella Gets Ready
Ella
I take deep breaths, working to breathe through the contraction. Sinclair is seated on the bed next to me, one hand on my lower back, the other clutching my left hand as I squeeze his fingers, hard.
“You’re doing great, Ells,” Cora says, there on my right, coaching me through it. She was the obvious choice to help me deliver my baby, even though three other doctors wait patiently behind the door to our living room, as well as a small team of delivery nurses.
It’s all overkill, I know – but, well, why not have them on hand just in case. But in the room? It’s just the three of us for now. Roger and Henry are out there too, taking care of Rafe and probably drinking brandy and smoking cigars, for all I know.
The contraction ends and my head falls back as I pant, pressing my eyes shut and working hard to save my energy. Babygirl – she’s taking longer than Rafe, which is fine, it’s just…a completely different experience. While I was physically battered last time, this time I’m just…exhausted.
I can feel Sinclair’s anxiety for me down the line of our bond, even if he tries to hide it. He releases my hand, shakes his out a little bit, and then raises a cool washcloth to my head, patting away the sweat there.
“Thanks, baby,” I murmur, turning my face to him a little bit.
“Almost there, Ella,” he replies, supportive.
“He’s right,” Cora says, bending down low to check on my progress. “We’re going to start pushing on the next one.” She raises her head and grins at me. “You ready?”
“Are you kidding?” I say, raising my head to glare at her a little. “I’ve been ready for hours.”
My sister’s smile deepens as she stands up, moving over to the door to call the delivery nurses in so that there are some extra hands to help with the baby.
“Little Princess,” Sinclair says, giving me a squeeze. “She’ll be here soon.”
“I’m going to be jealous,” I mutter, glancing at him and working hard for a joke, even though I can feel the next contraction coming on, “when there’s another girl in your life, stealing all your attention.”
“Never,” he replies, kissing me on the side of the head. “You’re always my best girl.”
“Better be,” I gasp, but then all jokes are put aside, because the contraction comes on in full force. I groan as the pain grasps me and Cora moves quickly to the bedside, helping me better position my legs as she coaches me through it.
“Okay, Ella!” she says, her voice eager. “Let’s start to push!”
And so I do – I bear down, and put my full force behind it, working to bring my baby into the world
The pain is…agony. My groan turns into a low moan and then a shout as I push, my world turning dark at the edges. I keep pushing, still hearing Cora’s encouragement, feeling Sinclair tense at my side.
But as I gasp a breath back in the contraction fades and my eyes flutter open.
“She’s coming fast now,” Cora says, her voice excited, “you’re almost there, Ella! A few more pushes – ”
But her voice fades away and – and the shadows at the edge of my vision, they don’t fade –
I frown, blinking, trying to understand Because, I mean…I’m not passing out. This is not the darkness at the edge of my vision that I’ve felt before when I’ve felt faint. This is – what the hell, it’s real shadows curling at the edges of my room…
“Do you…” I ask, my voice panting as I whip my head, looking around the room, “do you guys see that?”
Sinclair’s hand is on my face, turning it towards him now, his voice worried. ” See what?”
“The…the shadows,” I say, pulling my face from his hand, looking around the room again. The shadows – they’re growing.
“Ella,” Sinclair says, his voice shaking with worry. “Cora – what’s -”
“I – I don’t know – ” Cora says, looking at me. “Ella? What…”
But her voice fades out, and the room grows dark as the shadows overwhelm it.
And then, suddenly, Cora and Sinclair freeze next to me, and the room becomes somehow a shadow of itself, looking like…like a room in a dollhouse, or something – only half real in comparison to…
To the man who stands at the center of the room, who looks like he’s made of shadow itself. Except his eyes, which burn bright as coals in his face.
“Hello, Ella,” he says, his voice low and rolling, like thunder.
My eyes go wide as he moves a few steps forward and shadows clear from him, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man with an angular face, impeccably dressed in rich fabrics, each a darker shade of black. “Congratulations,” he continues, giving me a short, teasing little bow, “on the birth of your first daughter.”
“Who,” I gasp, terrified and still in a great deal of pain, though my birth process is somehow…paused – I’m in the middle of it, but it’s not progressing – I gasp, and my hands fly to my stomach, worried for her.
“It’s all right,” the man continues, walking to my side so that he looks down at me with that burning gaze. ” I’ve transported you, temporarily, to a pocket realm – only taken a second of your life. When we’re finished our little chat, you’ll be returned, safe and sound. No threat to your child.”
“Who,” I stutter, starting to get mad, “who are you!?”
“You don’t recognize me?” he asks, the corner of his mouth turning up. ” I’m afraid your mother has neglected you, then, if she hasn’t bothered to teach you to recognize the presence of her husband.”
“Her…her husband?” I gasp out – and then my eyes go wide as I put the pieces together. My mother – goddess of the light, and the moon, and wolves frequently paired, rather unhappily, with her sometimes-paramour, the God of Darkness.
“Well,” he says, with a sigh, “husband for lack of a better term. You wolves with your mates – makes love so simple, doesn’t it?”
“No,” I growl, glaring at him, even more afraid now than I was before what on earth is he here for is he -is he going to try to take my baby!?
He laughs, smiling down at me. “I like your spirit, little wolf – you remind me a great deal of your mother.”
“Why are you here!?” I shout, terrified, still wracked with the pain of labor.
“Because it is my right to be here,” he snaps, leaning down a little, holding my gaze. “You are the child of my beloved, my wife – you should have been mine, had she not been foolish enough to go choosing those mortal men to sire you. And so, while you are not biologically mine, I have what might be considered…a vested interest.”
I shake my head at him, still not understanding what the hell this has to do with my daughter’s birth.
“I would have been there at your birth,” he says, straightening up, “and your sister’s, had I known you existed. I was denied that right, and so I am here,” he shifts his gaze now to my stomach, “to witness hers.”
“Wha…” I shake my head, my mind thinking too many things at once, ” why not Rafe? Jesse?”
He shrugs. “The sons belong to their fathers. The daughters – they are the true children of the moon.”
My brow knits together at this cryptic statement, but I have no time, really to think on it because the God – he holds out a hand to me.
Instinctually, I flinch away.
He laughs.
“Your mother,” he says, shaking his head with a sigh, keeping the hand outstretched. “She taught you not to recognize me, only to fear me. But not only danger lurks in the darkness, moon daughter. Great beauty is there as well.”
I stare up at him, anger roiling in me now. “It wasn’t my mother who taught me that it was your horrible priests chasing me and Cora our whole lives trying to steal my son – ”
The Dark God tilts his head back and laughs, of all things. My frown deepens. “Those priests – ” he says, flicking his hand dismissively, “all mortal politics, Ella. The priests – I gave them power centuries ago before I lost interest. Whatever they’re doing today is their own business, not mine.”
I shake my head at him, starting to bare my teeth. “Get out of here,” I snap, “return me to my mate – ”
The God of Darkness smiles so broadly it crinkles the skin around his eyes. ” Such fire, little wolf,” he says, chuckling. “I do wish you had been mine.” He sighs and tilts his head, his calm only stoking my anger further. I open my mouth to issue further demands but he simply raises his hand again, and I feel – quite obviously under his control – the instant urge to hush.
“Enough,” he sighs. “I will return you to your home and your task in a moment. All that is left is to deliver my gift.”
“A…a gift?” I stumble over the words, horrified at the idea.
“A gift,” he continues, nodding. “For your daughter. From me.”
