Chapter 4: Pleading

Cecilia

“This ends today,” Victoria says.

She crosses the room and sits on the sofa, much closer to me than I’m comfortable with, and reaches out to grab hold of my hand.

I pull away from her cold, unwelcome touch immediately. “What do you want, Victoria? I’m waiting for Emeric—”

“He’s not coming,” she interrupts. “Cecilia, he’s not happy about this…” She bites her lip and glances around the room. “It’s better I speak to you myself about all this.”

“All what?”

“The pregnancy, Cecilia. We’re going to take care of it. Today.”

“We?” 

My head’s spinning.

“Listen, I know you don’t want to hear this, but Emeric and I are getting married soon. We’ll be mated for life. He and I must start making decisions together from now on. There are no secrets between us.”

I scoff, jumping up from the sofa. I feel like I’m in a dream—and it’s my actual worst nightmare.

“Your little tryst with Emeric is over,” Victoria continues, shaking her head. “Our families are already planning our wedding. It will be a grand, public ceremony, as it marks the bonding of two noble and powerful packs. The Garvalle family will not tolerate a bastard child tarnishing their reputation at such a critical time. Emeric wants you to take care of this little problem today.”

“What the fuck are you saying to me right now?” My voice comes out low and angry. My heart’s pounding so hard, I can hear my own heartbeat.

“I’ll go with you to the surgery, if you’d like.”

“Are you out of your mind, Victoria? What—” 

Victoria stops me. “Emeric wants you to have an abortion.”

I don’t want to believe her, but my body reacts like it does. I feel like I’m falling right down through the floor. Like the ground beneath me is crumbling.

My mate wants to kill our baby. That’s what I’m being told. 

“Why wouldn’t he come here and tell me so himself, if that’s true?” 

“You know how private Emeric is. Why do you think he even let me read his texts? It’s because he trusts me, Cecilia. I am his one true mate—he sees me as an extension of his very self.” She smiles, showing off a mouthful of white, sharp-looking teeth.

I feel tears welling in my eyes, and clamp them closed. “Get out.”

“Cecilia, please let me help you with this…”

“Get OUT!” I scream, pointing to the door. “Leave me the fuck alone!”

Victoria stands up calmly. “Alright,” she says in a hushed tone. Making a show of maintaining a calm demeanor, as if to prove she’s the more sane person in the room. “I’ll leave you to handle it on your own, then.”

The second she steps out into the hall, I slam the door closed.

When at last I can stop crying, I wipe the smudged mascara from below my eyes, take a couple deep breaths, and finally head out.

My heart stops when I enter the lobby, because the very first thing I see is Emeric.

He’s standing right beside the exit, looking out through the glass doors and holding his phone to his ear.

I beeline in his direction, shaky but determined. I don’t even know what to say to him, but I’m desperate to make him hear me out. To confront him with this horrible thing Victoria’s pushing on me, to make him admit his cruelty in his own voice.

“Cecilia!”

I wheel around and see Victoria emerging from the hall behind me.

“What a coincidence you’re here,” she continues, her voice light with an air of fake nonchalance. “We were just on our way out. I got that burn all cleaned and treated, so you don’t need to worry about it anymore. We’re off now to an important dinner with the Garvalles.” 

I turn again and see Emeric sliding his phone into his pocket. He arches a questioning eyebrow at me.

“Emeric, we need to talk.”

Victoria’s right on my heels. “Oh, I’m sure it can wait till tomorrow, Cecilia. We really must be going.”

“Emeric—this is important,” I half-shout. In my periphery I notice some heads turning. People in the waiting area and workers behind the desk are quieting down and turning to look at us.

Emeric’s eyes flicker around the big, open room. When they land on me again, there’s fresh irritation behind them. “Cecilia, please get a hold of yourself,” he says in a low, stern voice.

“Emeric, can we please get going?” Victoria puts one pale hand on Emeric’s arm and gives it a light squeeze. “I’m very tired after all this, and would love to get home to rest just a little before dinner.”

“Of course,” he says, turning his attention to her and softening his voice. “I’ve already called my driver. He’ll be pulling up any second.” 

“Emeric,” I plead one last time.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work, Cecilia,” Emeric retorts sternly. He gives me one last brief, cold glance. And then he strides out the big sliding door, with Victoria on his arm.

I drive home in a daze.

All I can see is Emeric turning his back and walking away, with Victoria’s arm threaded through his elbow. I feel hollow, desperate and hopeless as the vision plays itself out over and over again in my mind. 

The next thing I know, I’m parking in my spot under the balcony of my second-story apartment. And my stomach is aching again.

Going back to the hospital doesn’t even cross my mind. I just want to get upstairs, change into a big t-shirt, crawl into bed and close my eyes. I’m so fucking tired.

One foot in front of the other—that’s my sole focus as I pad up the stairs. One foot in front of the other, and soon I’ll be in bed. Soon I can put this nightmare of a day to an early end.

My hands are shaking as I turn the key in the door. I feel weak as hell, like I’ve spent every bit of physical, mental and emotional energy I once had in my body and soul. And when I step inside and turn to close the door behind me, I see something that chills me to the bone. 

It’s a trail of blood on the path I’ve just walked. 

I follow it with my eyes until I’m looking straight down at my feet, and watch as a fresh drop of arterial red falls from my ankle down onto the welcome mat I’m standing on. 

It’s sheer terror coursing through my veins as I peel my pants down my legs. Everything’s red and wet, drenched with blood that’s still pouring out of my center and running down my thighs.

I sink down into the bathtub, unable to think past my next move. Unable to think at all. 

The blood keeps coming. My stomach keeps cramping. I’m groaning in pain, weak and cold and shivering, and then suddenly my vision gets foggy and blackens around the edges.

“No, no, no…” I hear someone muttering. “No, please…” 

It takes a minute to realize that it’s me. Pleading senselessly with no one. Pleading for help that isn’t coming.

My eyelids are heavy. Too heavy to keep fighting open. 

“Please…” I hear myself saying as my body weight sags against the cold porcelain. “Please…”

I didn’t think the pain in my stomach could get worse. But then it does.

With every ounce of air in my lungs, I scream in agony.

For a split second, I am sure I’m dying. I’m sure I’m going to close my eyes and never open them again. 

A surge of blood rushes out of my body. I feel it running down my legs. And I feel something solid passing with it… a blood clot, maybe, or…

And then I hear a sound I’ll never, ever forget.

A soft, whimpering cry.

The cry of a wolf.

The sound of my unborn cub… dying…

For what feels like the millionth time today, a deluge of tears takes me over, and I wrench my throat in a wailing sob. 

I lost my baby.