Accidental Surrogate, Chapter 376: The Cost

My internal screaming echoed, a relentless wave. I clung to my connection with my Goddess mother, pulling with all my might. The screaming continued—in my mind, and perhaps from my throat as well; I was too far gone to know—when suddenly…

She was there.

My mother's presence first manifested in my mind; I felt her reaching for me, her worry palpable.

“Ella!” Her voice cut through my frantic screams. “Ella, I am here!”

Shocked—utterly shocked that it had worked—I was thrown from my meditative state back into my freezing body. Gasping, my eyes flew open. She was here. Not just in my mind, but standing before me.

As my vision cleared, I realized she wasn't physically present, not as she had been in the desert. But she was here in spirit—a glowing, beautiful specter, her ethereal form reaching towards me.

“Mother!” I gasped. “Mom, please—I need my baby—please release me!”

“Ella,” she said, stepping closer, her hands reaching but unable to touch me. I felt her presence, a tingling sensation against my cheeks as she attempted to caress my face. “I don’t understand, child. I don’t know what’s happening.”

Sobbing, I looked up at her, desperate for her to understand, yet so incredibly cold, unable to articulate my plight.

“Close your eyes, darling,” she murmured, her glowing face filled with concern. “Show me.”

I closed my eyes and, sobbing, poured my thoughts, memories, fears, everything, towards her. First, I heard her gasp in shock, then a coo of understanding.

“All right, Ella,” she said softly. Opening my eyes, I saw her shaking her head. “Your gift is bound, my love, and I cannot—”

“Please, Mother!” I sobbed, desperate. “Do something! Melt this ice, unbind my gift—go out and kill her! Just save my baby!”

I saw her grief, her desire to help, and her hesitation. We were from different realms; I knew she was bound by rules unlike my own. But I couldn't believe there was nothing she could do.

Her face hardened. “Once, Ella,” she said, her voice firm. “I can interfere physically in your world only once in my life. And I will never be able to do it again. Are you sure you want it to be now?”

“Yes!” I gasped, desperate. There was nothing worse I could imagine. “Please, Mother, please.”

“There is a price,” she said, looking directly into my eyes. “You will not be able to call upon me again. Ever, Ella. This is the last time we will speak outside one of my temples.”

I gasped, realizing the price of this magic was our bond. She nodded, her gaze unwavering, confirming my understanding.

“It is worth it, child,” she said softly. “I just wanted you to know the cost, so you could save your son.”

I stared at her, knowing I should hesitate, but I didn't. I nodded sharply, acknowledging the price and accepting it, though it broke my heart.

“All right, darling,” she murmured, leaning forward and pressing her lips to my forehead. “It will be all right.” For a moment, her kiss felt like her touch—a tingling sensation—until her lips grew warm and solid against my skin.

I gasped as my wolf howled within me, her teeth gnashing in protest at the injustice, eager to escape and help our baby.

I looked up at my mother, knowing it was done—that she had used the magic of our bond to unbind my wolf and her gift. In doing so, our connection was severed.

“I love you, Ella,” she said, beginning to fade. “You will always have a piece of me,” she said, pointing to my chest where her gift now burned warmly. “Use it well.”

Then, she was gone. Though it felt like long minutes, only seconds had passed. I had to reach my son. Now.

I accessed the burning gift within me, drawing on its strength, letting it course through me—mind, heart, skin. The ice around me began to melt.

Sinclair

My brother roared in rage, dashing away from Hank, who sat limp on the ground outside the clinic, clutching his head in agony.

But I was already moving, shifting into my wolf form with a pained bellow as my wounds stretched, my organs shifted, and my injuries screamed in protest. Panic fueled my actions. I ran on fear and adrenaline, pursuing my son despite the agonizing pain that screamed at me to stop—that I couldn't. I ignored it, forcing myself forward, sprinting towards the priestess carrying my son. Her form grew larger as I closed the distance, ignoring my pain.

I saw the moment she heard me—her hesitation, her turn. Her eyes widened in horror as I summoned my last reserves of strength and leaped.

The knowledge of her death was etched on her face as she turned, clutching my son in fear. I slammed into her shoulders, hurling her backward. Her scream tore through the air as she fell, but I instantly reached for the small bundle in her arms.

As she crashed to the ground under my weight, my incisors clamped onto Rafe's pajama set—the clothes I'd dressed him in that morning—pulling him from her grasp. My body landed hard on top of the priestess, but I held Rafe aloft, arching my neck.

He didn't touch the ground or the priestess; he simply dangled, screaming, safe within my teeth. I transformed instantly, rolling away from the priestess, groaning in pain but clutching my son tightly against my chest.

The pain blurred my vision; I gasped, wincing with each breath. I was aware that Roger was there, having followed in his wolf form, close behind.

I heard him now, tearing at the priestess, ripping at her throat and face, ensuring her death—a death beyond death, if possible—sending her straight to hell.

But I couldn't watch. All my energy was focused on staying conscious, holding my son safe as I struggled for breath.

“Dominic!” Roger panted beside me, his hands on my shoulders, though I barely registered it, feeling myself slipping away. “Dominic!” he shouted, shaking me, cursing frantically.

“Baby,” I murmured, trying to hand Rafe to my uncle. “Take…the baby.” Even I knew my words were unintelligible.

He understood. I felt Rafe lifted from my arms and opened my eyes slightly to see Roger standing, holding my son safely against him. “I’ll be right back, Dominic,” he snarled, fierce determination in his eyes. But could I even be saved?

Everything felt so distant.

“I’ll be right back!”

Then he was gone, along with my son, and I was alone, staring up at the dark sky. The stars began to fade.

Everything faded to black.