Chapter 10
The last six weeks had been almost the same as since they brought me here, except that the last two times Quinnlyn left, it hadn’t been Annabelle who showed up.
Instead, it had been a younger guy. I’d tried to converse with him and get his name, but he was mostly mute.
He brought a small radio that he played at low volume.
The baby had been moving more and more every day.
Some days, I’d lie back and watch them roll and push against my skin.
Feeling and seeing the movement at the same time made my chest ache in the best way.
The midwife had visited me a couple of times, and the visits were quick—vitals, heartbeat, and then gone.
My blood pressure had improved, and the baby’s heartbeat had been great.
When I questioned Quinnlyn about Annabelle, his answers weren’t answers. More than once, he'd raised his voice when I pushed too hard. Part of me knew he wouldn't hurt me. But only part.
It was the afternoon, and I stood staring out the window. Tonight was a full moon, and Quinnlyn would be leaving sometime today. Like the other nights he'd left, people moved busily across the grounds below.
“Why can’t Annabelle come back? The other guy is such a drag,” I said.
“Because she can’t keep her fucking mouth shut,” he mumbled.
“Well, at least she shared something real,” I said.
“It’s complicated, and you fucking know it,” he said.
“No. I know that in about seventeen weeks, I’ll be giving birth, and this baby will be taken from me, and who knows what they plan to do with me after. Then you can go back to your life with the girl you leave twice a month with,” I said.
“It’s not like that with her,” he said, “and her name is Calliope.”
“Out of all of that, that’s the part you respond to?”
I turned to look at him. He was sitting on the couch, legs stretched out onto the table, reading a book.
“I’m just following orders,” he finally said.
“That's all you ever say.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Zalayuh. I’m following orders, and sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing until the day of. Right now, I’m here babysitting you day by day by fucking day,” he said, before dropping his eyes back to the book.
“I’m sorry I’m such a fucking inconvenience.”
Just as I finished the sentence, the knock came on the door. The clock read four thirty-one. Quinnlyn got up and went to the door.
“Cutting it cl—” he said, as he opened the door, stopping mid-sentence. “Why are you here?” he growled.
The door shoved open, and Quinnlyn stepped back. Daxyn entered the room, stopping just as he entered. He pushed the door shut behind him. I was still standing at the window, our eyes locked onto each other. His eyes dropped to my stomach, which had popped out in the last couple of weeks—barely.
I only had six sets of clothing, all plain stretchy pants and plain tees.
Every five days, Quinnlyn put the laundry bag outside the door for them to be washed.
The tees had gotten tight over the last several weeks, both my boobs and belly growing.
I didn’t mind the growth in the cup size, but they hadn’t given me a bra.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, breaking the silence.
“I thought you would be excited to see me,” he said.
“I’m not,” I said flatly.
Daxyn whipped his head to look at Quinnlyn. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing,” Quinnlyn said, “guess she realized who you actually are.”
“Bullshit. You’ve turned her against me. You always had the—”
“We don’t talk about you. Watch your damned tone,” Quinnlyn cut him off.
“I’ll ask again, why are you here?” I asked.
“I wanted to see you. See how you’re doing? See if you need anything?” he said, fixated on me again.
“I’d still love to go home. That hasn’t changed. Otherwise, I’m fine. Oh well, unless you mean the nightmares of your girlfriend and you stealing my baby,” I said, my hand instinctively moved to my stomach. The baby kicked the palm of my hand. I held the smile in.
“Wait! What?” Daxyn said.
Quinnlyn cleared his throat. “Where’s the person taking over? We need to go…”
“We have time,” Daxyn said.
“Lord, Daxyn, you always push it to the last minute,” Quinnlyn said.
“He’s standing in the hall. I paid him to stand there and keep his damn mouth shut. You can go ahead and go. Let me talk to Zay alone,” Daxyn said.
Quinnlyn laughed—deep and genuine, like Daxyn had said the funniest thing he'd heard all year. I hadn't ever heard him laugh before. It unsettled me more than his silence ever had.
“I’m not leaving her alone with you… That’s what got us into this bullshit mess,” Quinnlyn said.
“Well, clearly I can’t get her pregnant again,” Daxyn said.
“Oh, for pity's sake!” I shouted.
They both whipped their heads toward me.
“You’re both stressing me out. Get out and don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya!” I told them.
“Zay! That wasn’t my intention. I was just trying to check on you,” Daxyn said.
“I’m as good as it gets,” I said, before turning around to look back out the window.
All of the vehicles had left, except Quinnlyn's truck.
The sun was almost completely gone from the sky, leaving its orange hue all around.
Quinnlyn grabbed the door, pulling it open.
Daxyn looked back at me once more before he exited.
The same guy who was there the previous two times entered the room.
His brows were furrowed, and his mouth twisted in an annoyed expression.
I gave him one look before turning back to the window. Daxyn and Quinnlyn were still arguing, their voices muffled through the door. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, being on the opposite side of the room, but I knew that whatever it was wasn’t pleasant.
A loud thump hit the outside of the door.
My body flinched. My eyes widened, and I turned my head toward the wall.
I wasn’t sure what the sound was, but it sounded like when my brother would punch the wall.
Something he did during fights with Mom or me, leaving holes we never fixed.
It was something I hadn’t really thought of in a long while.
The sun was completely gone, and the moon was now lighting the sky, in its full, beautiful glory.
The baby started kicking and punching strongly.
I dropped my head to look at my stomach—even through my shirt, I could see the movements.
I placed my hand near my belly button, where the movement was the most. The baby kicked my hand several times.
“It’s okay, little one, we will make it through this,” I said.
Shouting outside pulled me from the moment, and I lifted my eyes back up to look out the window. Quinnlyn was running to his truck and shouting. Daxyn was running behind—
“OH, MY FUCKING LORD! OH, MY FUCKING LORD!” I screamed.
Daxyn’s body contorted. His head tilted to the sky, and a howl emerged from him. His arms twisted unnaturally, bones shifting beneath his skin—
“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?” I yelled.
A giant wolf was standing there, where Daxyn once stood.
No. No. No.
This could not be true. That book. Oh God, that book.
This couldn’t be happening. Oh, my Lord. This was real.
He transformed into a fucking wolf. Oh God. I was right. I didn’t want to be right.
This had to be a nightmare. I was dreaming. I must have been.
“He turned into a wolf. A real-life wolf,” I muttered.
The guy who was there to watch me shot to his feet and ran to the window next to me and stared out.
“You need to go to your room!” he screamed at me.
“NO! He’s a wolf. Werewolves. It’s true,” I shouted.
“Go to your room!” he yelled.
The wolf—Daxyn—took off running toward the woods. Quinnlyn took off running behind him. Was he a wolf, too? He must be—why else would he be running?
Hands wrapped around my arms, breaking my trance. I smacked him away, but he gripped me tight and started pulling me to the room.
“No!” I yelled at him.
“Yes!”
I started thrashing and smacking him. I wasn’t going without a fight.
I needed to get the fuck out of here. I kicked him, trying to go between his legs, but he shifted in time, and my foot landed on his thigh.
His fist connected with my face. Pain exploded from my right eye and nose.
My vision went completely dark in that eye, and I stumbled back a little.
He grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder.
I punched and smacked everything I could.
My feet were trying to kick, but he had one arm holding them.
He kept going, walked into my room, and tossed me onto the bed.
He was out of the room in seconds, and I heard the latch on the outside click.
Oh God! I ran to the door and tried to pull it open, but it wouldn’t budge. My entire body ached, and my stomach churned. I pounded the door with both fists.
“Let me out!” I shouted. “Help!”
I banged on the door for several minutes, over and over, shouting and pleading to be let out of the room. Music from his stereo got louder than my cries. I walked over to my bed, my elbows resting on my legs, head in my palms. Tears ran down my cheeks and onto my tee, soaking it.
Daxyn's body twisting, breaking, becoming—it kept replaying in my head. I knew it, I just didn’t want to believe it.
The howls every night. Quinnlyn leaving.
Always on the full moon and the first sliver after.
Novo. I heard them say that. The book the midwife left me.
The one that gave me nightmares. She was trying to tell me without telling me.
My stomach started aching. This felt different, not like a stomachache, almost like when my period would come.
My right eye barely opened, and I reached up and patted my eyes and nose.
There was blood mixed with my tears on my face.
My eye was almost swollen shut. My head started throbbing. I laid down on my side.
I knew all of that had probably spiked my blood pressure.
I closed my eyes and breathed slowly and deliberately, the way I’d learned to do when things got bad.
As I laid there focusing on my breath, a tight pain low in my stomach grabbed my attention.
It didn't stay. After a couple of breaths, it faded.
Then it happened again, this time the pain was stronger.
I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I knew it wasn’t normal.
Then again, I had never been pregnant before.
I tried to go to sleep, but I felt like I could feel my pulse in my head.
I started to doze off before, but the pain made my one eye open wide.
I placed my hand on my lower stomach. My stomach had gone rock hard.
Contractions. The book talked about this.
Lord. This was not good. It was far too early for contractions.
I got up, went to the door, and started knocking on it. The music was so loud, I could barely hear myself think. I doubt he could hear my knocking.
“Hey! I need help in here! Please let me out. I need the midwife!” I screamed as loud as I could, but he didn’t answer.
I grabbed the bottle of water I had, taking a big drink before I laid back down on the bed. Maybe if I rested and slept, it would stop. Then another wave hit me, stronger than before, taking my breath away.
“No, little one, it’s not time for you to come yet,” I pleaded to the baby.
I closed my eyes, trying to go to sleep. I'd drift off, and the pain would pull me back. There were about ten minutes between each wave of pain. Each time it felt as though it was worse. I tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. My lower back ached each time the pain hit my stomach.
At twenty-three weeks, I knew it was far too early for the baby to arrive. I was stressed, that had to be why I was in so much pain. Watching the father of this baby turn into a wolf… oh God… that meant this baby was going to be—
“Owwwwww!” I yelled out.
That one hurt worse than before, much worse.
I needed help. I stood, and then another overtook my body.
I screamed out in pain. The pain now felt like it was in my vagina.
As soon as it stopped, I walked to the door and started beating on it as hard as I could.
Tears streamed down my face, some from the pain, some from the fear of being alone.
Another wave of pain hit me again. This time, liquid gushed out of me.
Oh no.
No. No. No.
This can’t be it. I read about this. I was sure my waters had broken. I pushed my hand inside my pants, feeling the wetness, before pulling my hand out to look at the liquid on my fingers. It was clear with a tiny bit of pink.
The next contraction made more fluid come out of me.
The contractions were now coming less than two minutes apart.
There was immense pressure within me. I was pretty sure the baby was coming, but I didn’t want to accept it until another contraction hit, and it felt like I’d poop myself.
I banged on the door again, but nobody came.
I pushed my pants off and crawled onto the bed.
I didn’t know what I was doing. I knew that I had read that book over and over again, and this was what labor and delivery were like, except it was happening way faster than it said.
As soon as I reached my hand down between my legs, another contraction came.
Something hit my hand. I lifted and looked, and between my legs sat my baby.
I reached my other hand down and gently grabbed the baby—a boy—the tiniest baby I’d ever seen.
My eyes flashed to the clock—seven-zero-three.
He was making small squeaking noises. I pulled him to my stomach, the umbilical cord still attached.
His eyes were still fused shut. His little arms jerked slightly.
He made little gasps, trying to take in air.
His skin was nearly translucent. He was about a foot long, almost fitting in one hand.
He made another little whimper, his little chest rose, and then fell.
Never rising again. I put my lips over his nose and mouth and breathed into him.
He was gone. I looked at the clock.
Seven-zero-seven.
Four minutes.
The loudest, most primal scream tore out of me.
Tears flowed down my cheeks. Liquid flowed out of me, then something else followed.
I reached down, and it was the placenta.
Blood soaked the mattress beneath me. I didn’t know what to do.
No one was coming for me, but part of me no longer cared.
If I died, then I’d be with my baby again.
I laid back onto the bed, pulling his tiny body next to me, holding him against my chest. I sobbed until there was nothing left, and even then, I couldn't stop.