Series: The Sacrifice Series by Natasha Knight
Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
So, here we sit at an impasse. Both of us are silent. He’s long since given up on trying to speak to me, but it doesn’t stop him from trying in other ways. I’ve felt every touch of his hand. Every brush of his fingers and even his lips as he kisses my forehead when he thinks I’m asleep.
Those small things have brought me to the brink of insanity because I know, as much as I may want to, I can’t take solace in them. I can’t believe in them.
But it doesn’t change the way I feel, the way I simultaneously yearn for and dread those comforts.
It would be easier if he hated me. It would be easier if I could hate him. But I can’t, and I don’t. So, all I can do is what I know best. Close myself off, hold my breath, and cry whenever he leaves the room, if only for a minute.
I fall back into a restless sleep, visions of Caleb haunting my dreams. I know he hasn’t been caught because I’ve heard the whispers from everyone around me. I want to ask more about the situation for my own peace of mind, but that would require speaking, and that feels too vulnerable right now. So I sleep. And I rest. And I stare at the ceiling as more days pass until, eventually, Dr. Charles tells me I can go home tomorrow morning.
Home.
He doesn’t know how loaded that word is, but Azrael doesn’t miss the way I cringe at the idea. Tension seeps into his spine as his gold eyes move over me, uncertainty lingering at the edges. He doesn’t know what to do with me or how to fix this. That makes two of us.
“There’s just one more thing,” the doctor says, the pitch of his voice capturing my attention.
We both look at him, waiting for whatever it is, and he shifts uncomfortably. “Mr. Delacroix, perhaps your wife would like some privacy for this conversation.”
Azrael’s eyes flare as they flick over the doctor in disbelief. “Is this not a Society hospital?”
“Well, yes, of course, it is, sir,” Dr. Charles answers.
“And therefore, you know your place, as well as mine.”
Another silence follows before the doctor nods tersely. “Of course, sir. I meant no offense.”
“Then get on it with it,” Azrael snaps. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Dr. Charles glances at me, his eyes softening in what I can only describe as pity. “Mrs. Delacroix… err, Wildblood.” He pauses, a flush creeping up his neck as he realizes his blunder. Azrael and I have both given him conflicting statements about what my last name is to be.
“Mrs. Delacroix is fine,” Azrael remarks coolly.
Instead of arguing, I focus on the doctor as he continues.
“When you first arrived, we performed standard tests, as is protocol. Since you’d been through such a traumatic event, we decided it was best to wait to deliver the news. But now that you’re free to go, you’ll need to schedule follow-up care with a primary doctor and an obstetrician.”
My brows pinch together in confusion as Azrael’s spine straightens. “What does that mean?” he asks.
“It means… congratulations are in order,” Dr. Charles replies, sounding anything but congratulatory. “It looks like you’ll be having a baby.”
“A baby?” The word leaves Azrael’s lips in a faint, shocked whisper. “But how? She’s on birth control.”
Dr. Charles gives a noncommittal shrug. “These things do sometimes happen. Given the circumstances, I would say it’s a miracle.”
Azrael glances at me, and terror grips us both. I recognize it in his eyes because it’s the same thing I feel as I glance down, wondering how this is even possible.
That word, and all the consequences that come with it, tumbles through my brain like a wrecking ball.
Baby.
I’m having a baby.
As I’m trying to wrap my mind around that, the doctor explains that the baby is okay, and they estimate I’m around two and a half months along. He starts rattling off some other information about the scan, a heartbeat, vitamins, and follow-up care, but as I press my hand to my stomach, two things happen simultaneously.
A jolt of recognition moves through me, and suddenly, I feel her.
I can feel her inside of me, a new energy with a powerful sense of connection between us, as if she’s trying to communicate her presence. That she’s been here, waiting for me to recognize her existence. A wave of emotion steals my breath as I process my feelings. Awe. Joy. Then… fear.
Fear that she will grow up without me. Fear that she may not even be born, given the cruel hand of fate that’s been dealt.
When I look at Azrael, I can tell he sees the question in my eyes.
Will he kill us both?
“Willow.” He chokes on my name but doesn’t give me his assurances.
“I want to go home,” I croak, using my voice for the first time in front of Azrael.