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“Shh.” Nan rocks me in her arms. “It’s okay, Willow. It’s okay.”
“It isn’t,” I choke out. “You don’t understand. She’s evil. That’s why I took Bec. She’s doing something to her. I know she is.”
Nan leans back, quietly considering my words with a frown. For a long while, she doesn’t speak, but something strange flickers in her eyes as they fall on me again.
“And what about Azrael?”
“What about him?” I sniffle.
“Is he evil?” she asks softly. “How does he treat you?”
I look away, too ashamed to admit my feelings for him, and despite everything, I can’t find it in me to hate him like I should.
“He’s not evil,” I murmur. “He’s just a liar.”
“He hasn’t wanted to leave your side,” she observes. “He seemed very worried about you when he realized you’d been taken.”
“What does it matter?” I meet her gaze. “He’s going through the motions and doing what he thinks he’s supposed to, but we both know how this will end.”
“Do we?” she questions.
I don’t understand what she’s getting at, but it’s not what I want to hear.
“Yes,” I grit out. “Please don’t try to give me false hope, Nan. I don’t want it. I have to face reality.”
“You were on birth control, weren’t you?” she asks.
“Of course I was,” I tell her. “You know that.”
She squeezes my hand in hers as something strange alights in her eyes. “Then this happened for a reason.”
“What reason could there be?” I argue. “Other than to torture me even more. I can’t live like this. I can’t return to that house and carry this child, knowing I won’t be here to protect her.”
She doesn’t answer me, and it only escalates my panic.
“I can’t,” I tell her. “I can’t do it.”
“Willow.” She presses her hand to my face, forcing me to focus on her. “You can and you will. This is fated. It did not happen by accident. This child is meant to be born. You and Azrael are the first Wildblood-Delacroix match to create life together. It means something.”
“What could it mean?” I shake my head in disbelief. “It means nothing if I can’t protect her.”
“I give you my word that I will,” she answers with unwavering conviction in her tone.
“How?”
“Do you trust me?” she asks.
“Always.”
“Then trust me when I say if tragedy should ever befall you, I will take the child away and get her to a safe place. I will do it at any cost.”
Her words bring me the relief I need to breathe again, and exhaustion settles over me like a heavy blanket. I want nothing more than to close my eyes and go to sleep, but Nan isn’t finished yet.
“You have to do something for me, though, Willow.”
“What?” I blink at her, conflicted by what I find in her eyes.
“You have to promise me you won’t let hope die,” she implores. “Promise not to let fear rule you, and open your eyes to what’s before you. Judge Azrael by his actions, and not words that have been previously spoken.”
I don’t know what she means by it or why it matters at this point. But I can see her softening to him, and I’m not sure I like it.
“I thought you were supposed to be team Willow,” I remind her.
She gives me a mischievous smile that lightens the mood considerably. “Oh, believe me, I am and always will be. That’s precisely why I’m asking this of you, my sweet girl. There are things you don’t yet know. Things I will tell you when I feel the time is right. But for now, I’d like you to go home with your husband, and do as I’ve asked. Trust that your fate isn’t written in stone and that, perhaps, you have a chance to rewrite it altogether.”
7
AZRAEL
On Celeste’s order, I walk out of Willow’s hospital room, wondering why I’m doing as I’m told as the door soundlessly closes behind me. I’m left standing in the hallway with a gaggle of Wildbloods staring me down.
A woman carrying a baby steps off the elevator and snags my attention. She heads toward the nurses’ station. I watch as the lot of them get up to aww and ahh over the thing, hugging the woman who apparently is the daughter of one of the nurses.
“What the hell’s going on, Azrael?” Willow’s father asks, forcing me to turn back to the Wildbloods.
The baby cries. I look at it. The mother is handing her off to one of the other women. It’s so small, the thing. I’m pretty sure it’s mostly blankets.
“Azrael.” Barrett barks my name.
I turn to him again.
“What did you do to her? Why is she so upset?” he badgers but it’s all surreal, nothing quite making sense.
Willow is pregnant? No. That’s not really possible. It’s… She can’t be having a baby. My baby.
“For Christ’s sake!” Barrett throws his hands into the air.
