Chapter 207 – Denial

Ella

When I wake, I'm in my nest, hooked up to about a dozen machines, struggling to understand how I got here. The moment my memory returns, I wish it hadn't. My wolf howls in my head, but I suppress the overwhelming emotions threatening to consume me. It might not be healthy, but I'm adept at repressing feelings.

I clench my eyes shut. "It's not real, it's not real," I insist to the empty room, reflexively tracing the outline of my womb. "Are you alright, little one?" I whisper, fearing my pain is about to intensify.

The baby flutters, sending feelings of sleepy confusion through our bond, and the tightness in my heart eases. He's okay. I tell my anxious wolf, but we both know her worry extends beyond the baby.

"They're both okay," my wolf assures me, surprisingly confident despite her nervous whimpering. "We would feel it if he was gone. I would feel it."

"But what if he's too far away?" I ask, hating the doubt settling in my stomach like a boulder.

"I would still know," she insists. "Trust me, no distance could fool me. Our bond is intact, just out of reach."

"Then why are you so worried? I can feel how feral you are," I remind her, praying she's right, that this isn't bravado.

"Because he's out there alone, and someone tried to kill him—they succeeded in killing all his men," she answers, her words laced with truth.

"As if we don't know who's responsible," I growl fiercely. "This is Damon's doing. I don't know how he managed it, but I will not rest until that bastard is six feet under." I realize, too late, that I growled aloud. A man's voice interrupts our private conversation.

"Oh good, you're awake," the palace doctor says, standing in the doorway, his pitying expression revealing his awkwardness. "You gave us quite a scare, Ella."

"Well, at least he didn't call us 'Your Highness'," my wolf remarks dryly, noting the recent trend among Vanarans and refugees.

"What happened?" I ask, my hands still resting on my belly. "Is my pup alright?"

"You had a hypertensive crisis," he explains evenly. "Extreme stress can skyrocket your blood pressure to dangerous levels. In your case, it triggered false labor and dizziness, causing you to pass out before your heart or child was harmed. You're on an IV for fluids, anxiety medication, and sedatives."

"Do I have to go back on bed rest?" I ask worriedly.

"For now," he confirms. "I'm very worried about you, Ella. High blood pressure is dangerous during pregnancy, and you're under too much stress. The Moon Valley doctors diagnosed preeclampsia, and we thought your wolf waking mitigated it. But your current readings indicate a risk of recurrence. We need to control your stress."

"That's easier said than done," I answer sullenly. "We're at war… and my mate…" I can't lie, but I can't tell him Sinclair isn't dead.

"I was very sorry to hear about Alpha Dominic," the doctor says sympathetically. "His death is a huge loss for all shifters."

I nod, glancing at the IV. "Do I have a choice about the sedatives?"

He sighs. "You need to rest, Ella. I can't force you, but I strongly encourage following my treatment plan for your and your child's sake. Eclampsia kills mothers and babies, even with modern technology. It's not something to take lightly."

"I understand," I murmur, tears welling.

"What worries you about the sedatives?" he asks.

"Nothing," I answer stiffly. Telling him would mean admitting I believe my mate is alive and my fear that he isn't. I'm afraid to sleep; no distance separates us in dreams. My mate can even follow me into my nightmares. If he's not there in my sleep, it will mean he's truly gone—a horrifying possibility.

"Then I'll leave you to rest," the doctor says, understandingly. "But please reach out if you have concerns."

I nod as he leaves. I was just starting to burrow deeper into my nest, seeking my mate's lingering scent, when Henry and Cora entered. Both had tears in their eyes. Cora climbed into bed with me. "You scared me," she murmured, cuddling close.

"I'm sorry," I said, kissing her hair. "I'm okay."

My eyes were locked on Henry. He looked ten years older. My heart broke seeing his pain. "He's not gone, Henry," I whispered. "I would know."

Henry closed his eyes, his face twisting in a grimace. "My darling, I don't want to believe it any more than you do, but we can't pretend this isn't real."

"You weren't with your mate when she died, were you?" I asked. "Could you feel it, even though she was out of reach?"

Henry sighed. "Yes, but that's different… we were fated."

"My bond with Dominic is no weaker because we chose each other," I argued. "He said it's stronger than what he shared with Linda."

"It's still different," Henry cautioned. Cora remained silent, watching with wide eyes.

"What of your bond with him?" I demanded. "Shifter parents bond with their pups days after conception. Surely you'd feel it if your bond with Dominic was broken? It would hurt as much as, if not more than, losing your mate?"

A new fear struck me—maybe Henry did feel it, and I didn't. But Henry said, "I saw the wreckage. We saw the bodies. Whether we can feel it or not, no one could survive that—not even Dominic. He was too far away. Even the strongest bonds have limits."

"What are you saying?" I cried. "Why believe this if there's even a slight hope?"

"I'm not!" Henry raised his voice, startling me. "That's the last thing I want! No parent wants to believe their child is gone!" He paced, his face flushed. "But I can't help Dominic by living in denial—I can't help you or our people by ignoring the evidence! If he's out there, why haven't we heard from him? You were on the phone with him; he knows we think he's dead. Why no contact? Why hasn't the Storm Forest Alpha found him?"

Cora and I remained silent, instinctively shrinking from his anger. I shielded Cora and my belly. Seeing this, Henry broke. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely, remorseful. "I didn't mean to raise my voice. But you have to know this is a tragedy for all of us—especially our family, but for the entire continent. No one wants to believe it, Ella. You're not alone. And when you accept it, you won't be alone in your grief. But you need to accept it. Dominic is gone. And he's not coming back." Tears streamed down his cheeks.