Travel Disruption
The sound of gunfire erupted around us, and I felt Sinclair jerk to shield me in the suddenly silent car. Trembling, I peeked from beneath his arm as he cursed vehemently, his body tense over mine.
The gunfire ceased, and Sinclair, jolting back to the driver's seat, floored the gas pedal, spinning the car and speeding away from a bullhorn blasting words in our direction.
“What’s happening?!” I shouted, desperate for information, doubled over in pain as my body continued its contractions. The fact that we were apparently in a war zone was inconsequential.
“The insurgents,” Sinclair growled, glancing over his shoulder. “Picked tonight of all nights to push forward with their rebellion—goddamn it—”
I glanced over my shoulder, seeing a roadblock in the middle of the street with masked figures holding guns.
“Humans?” I asked, desperate. “Who don’t want peace?”
Sinclair nodded sharply, spinning the car around the city’s central square. I looked around—recognizing the temple and palace, familiar places I hadn’t seen in weeks—since…
Quickly dismissing those thoughts, I focused on the present. “Can we go back? Can we get out of here?”
“No,” he growled, speeding across the square and skidding to a stop in front of the palace. “They’ll have us boxed in by now, and they saw my face. Goddamn it, I should have seen this coming. They’ll come after us—we have to get you inside.”
He jumped out, rushed to my side, and opened my door. He lifted me into his arms and charged toward the palace. Guards at the door stared in shock and surprise.
“Alpha,” one guard said. “We weren’t expecting—”
“Let us in,” Sinclair growled, his command barely registering as he prepared to burst through the door. Fortunately, the guard opened it. “Barricade this entrance—all entrances. Get as many guards here as possible, and let no one in except at my command. Is that clear?”
The guard nodded, all business, ready to obey. As soon as we were inside the dark palace, I cried out, the sharp pain of a contraction overwhelming me. It was horrible, sharper than the others, and fast.
“Sinclair,” I panted, looking up at him. “The baby is coming—we have to get to a hospital—”
He shook his head, looking repentant as he pounded up the wide marble stairs. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said. “We can’t go anywhere until it’s safe.”
“Then what are we…” I looked around, disoriented. Sinclair, however, seemed to know where he was going, throwing his shoulder against doors until we reached a beautiful bedroom with a wide four-poster bed draped in blue velvet curtains.
Sinclair slowed, and I gazed in awe at the sumptuous room as he carefully placed me on the bed. “Well,” he said, grimacing slightly, apology still in his eyes. “A king’s bedroom is as good a place as any for Rafe to be born, don’t you think?”
“Is that where we are?” I asked, still panting, the shock momentarily eclipsing my pain.
Sinclair nodded and sat beside me. “Ella,” he said urgently, taking my hand. “I need to organize the guards, ensure your safety, and make sure they let Hank and Cora in when they arrive—”
“Will they even be able to get here?” I gasped, looking into his eyes, seeing the hesitation and doubt. “Cora is across town—and I don’t know where Hank is—and we don’t have any medical supplies—”
“They’ll get here,” Sinclair growled, determination in his voice. “But I have to go for a few minutes—you text Cora, tell her where we are.” He paused, his eyes sweeping over me. “Ella, my love, will you be all right?”
I hesitated, then nodded, knowing he had to go. I wanted him by my side, but I knew without his commands, the palace could be overrun.
“Go,” I said, offering an encouraging smile. “We’ll be fine.” I touched my belly, worried that Rafe could feel my anxiety—an anxiety beyond that of a woman in labor. My poor baby—he’d already endured so much…
Sinclair shook his head, mirroring my guilt. He leaned forward, kissed my forehead, and whispered, “I’ll be right back. Right back, Ella.” I nodded, and he strode away, leaving me alone.
The strangeness and silence overwhelmed me. The contraction had ended, but my breathing quickened as I looked around the vast, dark room. Was this…was this where Damon slept? Where he lived his life? Where he came with his wife, with…Lydia?
Panic set in, and tears streamed down my face. Goddamn it—just hours ago I had been so happy, so comfortable, so at peace. How fast the world turns.
My hands shaking, I pulled my phone from my emergency bag and texted my sister, explaining the change of plans. Almost immediately, my phone rang. My voice trembled as I answered.
“Hello?”
“What the hell is going on, Ella?” Cora’s voice demanded furiously. “You need to get to the hospital. Now.”
“We can’t,” I explained, my voice shuddering. “We don’t know who’s out there or how many there are—the rebels—”
“Goddamn it, Ella, I’m going to kill him,” she snarled.
“Who?” I gasped, desperate and confused.
“That mate of yours, for getting you into this.”
“It’s not his fault,” I growled, fiercely defensive.
“Whatever,” Cora snapped. “Just…hold tight. I’m sure Sinclair will have troops there soon—a whole wave of them—and they’ll clear out the insurgents and get you to the hospital. Fast.”
“Okay,” I said, relieved. But then, the pain returned, intensifying and spreading. “Um, Cora?” I asked, looking down at my stomach.
“Yeah?” she asked impatiently. I could hear objects clattering in the background.
“Can you come here anyway? Like, now?”
“I’ll just meet you at the hospital—”
“No, Cora,” I insisted. “I need you now.”
Silence. Then, my sister said, “What’s going on, Ella?”
“My contractions,” I explained. “They’re four minutes apart.”
My sister cursed, shocking me with the intensity of her expletives.
“Just stay put, Ella,” she commanded. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“But how will you—”
“I’ll be there—” she shouted, and the call ended.
I dropped the phone, trembling with anxiety, fear, and loneliness. But then I glanced down at myself, fighting against the spasms of pain. Because I wasn’t alone. Rafe was here. I needed to concentrate on him.
I stood, ignoring everything except my baby and my body’s needs. I peeled back the covers, revealing clean sheets, climbed back in, propped myself up with pillows, and began to breathe through the contraction. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the bond between us.
Just me and you, kid, I told him, pushing away my fear and sending him love. I’ve got you. We can do this.
My heart filled with courage as I felt his response: belief. Rafe trusted me. That was all I needed.
It was time to bring my baby into the world, and I was ready. I was born for this.