The sound of gunfire erupted around us. Sinclair lurched to cover 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. Sinclair jolted back to the driver's seat, slammed the gas pedal, spun the car, and sped 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 to push forward with their rebellion—goddamn it—"

I glanced over my shoulder, too. A roadblock bisected the street; masked figures stood behind it, 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—I hadn't realized where we were—my eyes fixed on the familiar temple and palace, 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. I stepped out; he lifted me into his arms and charged toward the palace. Guards at the door stared in shock.

"Alpha," one guard said. "We weren't expecting—"

"Let us in," Sinclair growled, his command barely audible. He was ready to burst through the door if necessary, but fortunately, the guard opened it. "Barricade this entrance—all entrances—get as many guards here as you can, 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 let out a sharp cry I'd been holding back. This contraction was horrible—sharper than the others, and faster.

"Sinclair," I panted, looking up at him. "The baby's 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, knew where he was going, throwing his shoulder against doors until we were suddenly in a beautiful bedroom with a wide four-poster bed draped in blue velvet.

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.

Sinclair nodded and sat beside me. "Ella," he said urgently, taking my hand. "I need to organize the guards, make sure you're safe, and ensure they let Hank and Cora in when they arrive—"

"Are they even going to be able to get here?" I gasped, looking into his eyes, seeing the hesitation and doubt. "Cora's 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 to come." He paused, his eyes sweeping over me. "Ella, my love, will you be all right?"

I hesitated, then nodded. 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. 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 in the sumptuous room.

The strangeness and silence were overwhelming. The contraction had ended, but my breathing quickened as I looked around the gigantic dark room, at the shadowy corners. Was this…was this where Damon slept? Where he lived his life? Where he came with his wife, with…Lydia?

Panic seized me, and tears streamed down my face. Goddamn it—just hours ago I'd 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 shaking, I answered.

"Hello?"

"What the hell is going on, Ella?" Cora demanded furiously. "You need to get to the hospital. Now."

"We can't," I explained, my voice trembling. "We don't know who—"

"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 defending Sinclair.

"Whatever," Cora snapped. "Just…hold tight until this gets sorted out, okay? I'm sure Sinclair will have troops there soon—a whole wave of them—and they'll clear out those insurgents and get you to the hospital. Fast."

"Okay," I said, relieved. Then I felt the pain rising again. "Um, Cora?" I asked, looking down at my stomach as the ache intensified.

"Yeah?" she asked impatiently. I heard 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 spoke. "What's going on, Ella?"

"My contractions," I explained. "They're four minutes apart."

My sister cursed, shocking me with the intensity of her language. I blinked in shock.

"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. Then I glanced down at myself, fighting against the spasms of pain. Because I wasn't alone. Rafe was here. And I needed to focus on him.

So I took control—as much as I could. I stood, ignoring everything except my baby and my body's needs. I peeled back the covers, revealing clean sheets, and climbed in, stacking pillows behind me to support myself as I sat and breathed through the contraction. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my bond with my child.

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 he sent a little pulse back: belief.

Rafe trusted me. And that was all I needed.

It was time to bring my baby into the world, and I was ready. I was born for this.