Chapter 30
THE JOURNEY BACK HOME
No one stopped us. It would’ve been futile.
Melek took down five full-grown fae males in his heightened beastly state on our journey to the Willow.
I understood their need to stay back. No one gets between mate bonds.
We just need to fuck it out like before.
However, this time is different. Home doesn’t mean the treehouse cottage where Sunny waits for us.
Now, he’s taken me through the dome out of the Willow, and I regret everything.
His beast is taking us back to Halo, our old home, my husband’s idea of a safe haven. And in his rage, he left our son.
Sunny. My light.
Pushing at his chest, the shock wears off, making way for despair. Kicking my legs, I scream at him to stop.
I scratch.
I cry.
I slap.
I plead…
Nothing stops his determination. My mate is a feral man on a mission to protect his mate, and as he runs us through the tree line separating the Halo lands from the Fairy Lands, I break down, each barrier we burst, my downfall, the time he spends running faster than our initial slow ride into the lands I’d dreamed so long of inhabiting.
I hate this man, and I love him with a violent passion. My heart is unable to rectify what that means, so, instead of trying to harm him, I grip onto him and sob. Heaving downpour after heaving downpour, I release the well of frustration inside.
The light of the moon guides our way, my husband working faster than the kelpies, pushing us towards the tunnel that will bring us back into enemy territory.
“Don’t make me go back there.” My voice is hoarse. “Please.” A damning throb from being held for so long works its way through my back and legs. “Let me down, Melek.”
I claw at his thick arms, a gush of liquid falling through my lower half alerting both of us to the impending danger. He pauses on the precipice of entering the old mining tunnel that would have us back in Halo.
“Melek?” I grit out, a wave of pain lashing through my body, increasing on the minor back pain, realising, suddenly—I’m in labour. Sera said I still have three weeks. This can’t be happening. Phoenix, for fuck’s sake, this is not a good time. This is the worst possible time.
My beast falls to his knees, growling and shaking his head, almost like he’s trying to break free of his tunnel vision. Nails dig into my curves. Liquid seeps through my dress and onto his lap, drenching both of us.
The moon looks down on us, pregnant with anticipation. Both of us are ready to pop. I sob. I can’t have a baby here. Not after what happened last time.
“Please wake up. Please, Melek.” My voice cracks on a cry. I need him to run us back to the Willow. We have time. A crippling pain twists my abdomen.
“Fuck.” I pull my body inwards. “Melek.” His hands release me, and I’m placed on the dirt, a cold rock wall at my back.
Steely, determined eyes take in the surroundings.
“You’re in labour.” I grimace at him. He’s back.
It’s a minor relief, however, it’s not stopping the fury of these contractions that have suddenly decided to come with vigour, washing over me, one after the other.
A torrential storm. Last time, Sunny came out while I was unconscious.
These electrifying stings of pain are something else.
“No shit.” Teeth clenched, I fling my arm at him, grasping his wrist, cutting off circulation.
“Can you move?” With the seriousness of the situation, I don’t question what transpired over the last few hours. It has no bearing on the pain that has me rolling to my side, nausea settling over me at the next wave of contractions. “Fuck.” Melek goes to pick me up, not waiting for me to answer.
The vertigo that travels through my body at the upwards movement has me throwing my head over the side of his arm and vomiting sour and sweet all over the ground.
“Put me down.” I hoarsely gravel.
My husband doesn’t hesitate, placing me back on the cool dirt.
I rest my head on the ground, the moonlight and chill calming whatever tornado is happening within me.
“Is this what you want? You want to be born here?” In the middle of nowhere, on the dirty, barren ground of the entrance of an old mining tunnel.
Enemy territory. In answer, another contraction takes hold of my body. This time, the need to push is present.
“I need to push.” It’s a statement.
Melek kneels by my side in a daze, his eyes still thankfully grey. On the next contraction, I groan loudly. “Melek.”
At his name, a switch flips. The commander is back.
He assesses the situation, his index and middle finger gently touching my wrist, counting while maintaining eye contact.
“I’m going to check dilation next.” His voice is almost whisper-soft, and it lulls me through another contraction.
I throw my head back, moaning unrestrained, thrashing in the dirt.
Melek moves to lift my dress, telling me what I already know. “Fully dilated. Head crowning.”
A snarky remark is on the tip of my tongue until my body is exorcised again by another bone-rattling contraction. I roll to my side on my hands and knees, pushing in on a breath, a burning sensation setting me on fire.
“The head is out. One more big push, love.” He grips my hips, his presence steadying before the last contraction rocks me, pushing down. She falls… There’s a split second my heart leaves my chest when I don’t hear her cry.
“I made it in time for the main event, I see.” Ren’s voice, a lilting velveteen evenness, greets us before a cry strikes the air.
Falling to the ground, spent, I roll to my back, dirt and bodily fluids covering me. A ripping sound comes from my side, where I find my mate tearing open his shirt and wrapping it around our little girl.
My vision starts to waver at the sight. “Mel—” Green hands come to take Phoenix from Melek. Hands I want to be mine. She’s my baby.
A pressure comes from my lower half, but I feel so lightheaded all of a sudden. My eyes close.
“Drink.” The word is a command. Sweet nectar, the taste of masculine spice and leather, enters my lips. I greedily swallow.
“You need a direct line. That won’t work. I need to take her to Sera.” Why does Ren sound so angry?
“No. It’ll work. It always works.” My husband’s voice is gruff.
“She’s bleeding out…” Ren responds, going out of focus, and I sink further into weightlessness.
Tender hands lift my body, waking me. “You aren’t coming?”
“I can’t. She’ll die. You’ll all die unless I stop it.”
“The bomb?”
“Yes.”
“How long do my people have?”
“Days, hours, minutes.”
A vitalising touch strokes over my cheek. I want that touch again. I want him. Mine.
“Go, Melek. I have her.”