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My heart stops.
Everyone falls still. Somewhere in the cave, water drips incessantly, and in the sudden silence it’s as loud as dynamite.
“That’s right, you little bitch.” Cleo practically purrs the words, a vicious smile spreading over her face. Triumph flares in her hard gaze. “You’ve got a new little hybrid growing in there. Didn’t you know? You’re carrying a child. A fragile little life. And if your dogs don’t let me go, I’ll fucking kill the baby.”
28
Sable
My blood runs cold as Cleo’s words wash over me.
I want to deny it, to call her a liar. I want her to be making this up just to get the upper hand.
But she’s not.
I know it.
Where her magic is wrapped around my torso, I can feel it delving deep inside me through the connection we share. And I can feel the truth. My hands automatically go to my belly where the little life seems to glow like a tiny star beneath Cleo’s pulsing, evil magic.
Whether I’m in my astral form or not, that little life is still with me. And if Cleo kills me, even in this realm, the baby will die too.
My mates hesitate, their wolfish gazes boring into me as if they can see the truth for themselves if they just look hard enough. They can’t, of course. All they see is me in danger, and I know they don’t want to give in. But they must read the answer in my eyes, because as one, they all release Cleo and step away from her.
Angry growls echo off the cave walls. I can feel their collective helplessness through our bond, as palpable as my own.
Shock and terror and elation roar through me. A baby. A child formed from the love I’ve been blessed with. My heart’s pounding so hard I can barely hear over the rush of blood in my ears.
Cleo laughs, and her magic squeezes me tighter, like a rope formed of black smoke. “I’m surprised you didn’t know. But it works out well for me that you didn’t. If you’d known you were pregnant, maybe you would’ve tried to sit this fight out. And that would’ve deprived me of the chance to kill you both. You and that hybrid abomination of a child.”
Fury flares inside me as she laughs again, and my fingers tighten on my abdomen as an entirely alien emotion rushes through me. A feeling that’s overwhelming and protective to the point of destruction.
Cleo is a psychopath. She’s evil in its purest form to lie there and threaten the most innocent thing there is.
And I’ll rip her head from her body before she can hurt my baby.
A mother’s instincts. Something I didn’t even realize I had.
I slide my hands up to where Cleo’s magic grips me like a snake holding its prey. I call up my magic, causing all the sigils scarred into my skin to turn black. I keep pulling on my energy until it’s all right there under the surface, until it’s strained to a breaking point, until I don’t know where I begin and the magic ends.
Then I take hold of Cleo’s magic, grasping at her power with all of my strength.
My own energy takes control of the connection between us, and I force us both away from the cave. The blast of raw magic from our powers clashing nearly knocks me out, but I hold on tightly to her and direct us into the void.
We hurtle through the darkness, wind whipping at our hair, sending her black locks and my blonde locks flying across our faces. As we grapple for control, I search for any weakness in her, desperate to find a way to take her out.
I don’t find one, but I manage to hurl us into a memory of hers, not one of mine.
We land hard back on the lawn of that old Victorian house where Cleo grew up. Only this time, we keep moving until we’re inside, the force of our momentum pushing us through the walls of the house like ghosts.
As I try to orient myself, my senses tune in to a lot of screaming—the sound of two teenage girls in a heated argument.
One of the twins stalks past us, her voice hard as she says, “It’s not my fault you’re a dunce at magic. Daddy did his best with you.”
The other twin appears from the archway leading to a shadowy living room. This one is Cleo—I’m sure of it, because she’s starting to look more like the adult version of herself. Her face has filled out a little, looking more like the woman I know.
Her eyes glint with fury as she grabs her sister’s arm and violently yanks her to a halt. “No, he did his best with you and ignored me.”
The twin yanked her arm from Cleo’s grasp. “Only the strongest witches deserve love, Daddy says. I’m not sorry that was me.”
