Hekate
I had always pondered on the possibility of Astrid taking after Lorna in appearances. The Goddess must have a cruel sense of humour.
I brush back the silky strands of hair that cover her profile and Astrid stirs, murmuring something in her sleep.
It is one of the many things I enjoy--watching her sleep. The lack of tension in her body, the unguarded look about her, her slightly parted lips and the rare smile that graces her face when she dreams—perhaps of me.
The bandage around her head starts to slip off and I reach for her, putting it back in place. Her brows furrow and her eyes flutter open.
Her blue gaze meets mine, a little unfocused, and it takes a few moments for recognition to register. "Hekate."
"Why, you don't seem pleased to see me, princess," I purr, a smirk forming on my lips as she blinks rapidly and licks her own lips, trying to hide her flush.
"I'm not. Considering you bailed on me and--" She suddenly groans, her head sinking into the pillows as she tries, unsuccessfully, to sit up.
"How do you feel?"
Her face scrunches up slightly. "Hurts like a bitch."
I chuckle, slipping into bed behind her. Her body tenses as my arms encircle her, but eventually, she relaxes and leans back into me, placing her hands on top of mine. The contact is soothing yet unfamiliar, and I suppress the urge to flinch.
"The Priestess pushed me."
My jaw tightens. "It is handled."
"You found out," she whispers, her voice thick with sorrow.
"I did."
"I am so sorry," she tells me, fingers tightening around mine.
"You have no reason to be. I brought it upon myself, and my family." I swallow, feeling a horde of unfamiliar emotions bubble within me. "I never should have taken her. She might have lived then."
She turns in my arms, her eyes now tinged with silver as they search mine. "Maybe it was your fault. I can't pretend to understand what you went through or what you feel, but whenever you're ready to talk about it... to let it out, I'm here. Your burden is mine. Your pain is mine. You can... trust me."
Feelings are strange. They churn unease and discomfort within you, as if a word is crawling under your skin, ready to be uttered. To fully consume you.
Love. Might I love this little she-wolf? In all her fierceness and silliness? Might she have a cuckold on my heart now?
It scares me deeply, and nothing scares me.
For so long, I lived without anything to lose, and now that I do, I despise it. Vulnerability could be my downfall. Again.
Yet, gazing down at my chosen mate makes me yearn for vulnerability once more. My chest aches merely from looking at her. I struggle to breathe when she looks at me that way—stunning, my mate.
A rueful smile tugs at my lips as my hands slide down, cupping her ample backside. "This is oddly comfortable."
Her answering glare is murderous, and my cock twitches at the fire in her eyes. "Just so we're clear, I'm still very mad at you."
My smile falters and this close, I can hear it. The faint pulse entwined with hers. The child's. Our child's. I have never been one to balk from anything, or flee from it, but the thought of holding a child again after finding mine dead in the catacombs centuries ago has me truly frightened.
Astrid must see the hesitation in my eyes because hers grows softer, uncertain. "Do you not want--"
"I do. Never think that again," I cut in, grip tightening on her slender waist. "It is a little hard to...digest."
She seems disappointed by my response and her eyelids droop. "Well...bummer, I guess. I'm a little tired," she mutters, twisting to face the other side. "Goodnight," she adds, and her voice is cold.
I nuzzle my nose into her hair, murmuring, "I'm sorry. I'll work on it."
She laughs, but there is no warmth in that. "I'm not sure any woman wants to hear that her mate has to work on wanting his child. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like my space right now."
Dismissed. Laughter rises in my belly at that, but I leash it. I wouldn't put it past her to break my nose for laughing at such a sensitive matter. So instead, I say, "I shall tell you a story. I have been told I excel in the art of--"
She growls impatiently. "You sure love to hear yourself speak."
Feisty. I tell her anyway. It isn't a story anyone else has heard. Cruel and mad as I was, I did have dreams at some point in my miserable life. I still do. Spending what seemed like an eternity in unending darkness had made me dream often. Of what my life might have been like if I had been...normal. If Lorna hadn't died. If I hadn't lost everything.
I tell my mate all of that, but I suspect she's fallen asleep before I even began the story.
*********
Astrid
The following months are... wonderful.
The Priestess was gone by the morning, with nothing but a letter left in her chambers--a letter written in blood. The contents of which I never sought to find out, but I have a pretty good idea. The mere thought of what Hekate might have done with her sends shivers down my spine.
I'd preferred not to know. I didn't ask, and he didn't tell.
News had come the next morning of the Void. It had retracted, pulling back over several villages, the darkness becoming somewhat reduced. It didn't leave all at once. It took a couple of months of constant work with Hekate and Rune.
By work, I mean in Rune's bedroom. Or mine. Yes, I kept my bedroom. Being pregnant puts me in a horrible mood most of the times and even Rune can't handle it when I start to wail uncontrollably for no reason. Or when I start to trash things because he won't give me what I want.
Just for his sanity, I kept my room. I do not recognize myself anymore. I become an angry witch when I'm hungry, and a wailing child when he doesn't come home early. Unpredictable. Unstable. Rune didn't mind, but even I get scared of my mood swings.
Best to stay in my space before I decide to strangle him in his sleep for not telling me he loves me before sleeping.
Work entailed spending every night wearing myself and Rune out. Kneeling between his thighs and worshipping every glorious inch of him, making love to him when he's both himself and his lycan, leashing him just how I feel like...and he indulges me. My crazy fantasies. He likes them. Hekate loves them too. I make him want more, I make him crave me, I make him run home to me everyday, needing me, begging me.
Very slowly, those walls of impenetrable black around his mind crumble, and he lets me in. The bond between us forges into something stronger, purer, unbreakable. I can hear what he's thinking if I so wished it, but I respect him enough not to pry until necessary.
He gives me just as much respect too, if that exempts the random moments when he sends pictures down the bond with his lips and tongue on places best known to me.
With every day that passes, I love him more, and the bigger my belly grows, the more attached I feel to my child.
My mother and Rune's mom fuss every time, keeping taps on even the air I breathe. It gets frustrating, and I often hide in his grandmother's chambers so they don't find me. Rune's grandmother and I became fast friends. She has a stack of honeyed cookies in her chambers every day, awaiting my devouring, as well as books and movies.
I can't say this is what I wanted for my future, but I am happy.
Ginevra left the castle, and Lycanthia. I didn't know the latter part of this until much later, when I worked up the nerve to ask Queen Zephyr. Though, I am glad I do not have to see her face anymore, I can't help but feel a stab of guilt.
I didn't think she loved Rune enough that she would travel all the way to the human lands to avoid seeing us together. Abandoning her life here, her status, school...
Don't get me wrong. I do not want her back, but it'd make me a bad person not to feel something...I think.
A knock on my door steers my attention from the book I am ready, and my eyes narrow at the door, glaring at Boris who smiles sheepishly, beard stretching across his face. "What?"
"It is time for your walk."
I groan. "Not today. I'm exhausted."
"So she says everyday," I hear Rune say and my head whips to him as he strolls in. He's dressed in a loose-fitting white shirt that billows around his sculpted form, accentuating his chiseled features and sinewy muscles. Paired with fitted pants and knee-high boots, he looks effortlessly stunning, and my heart stumbles a bit at the sight of him.
His moonlit hair cascades around his angular face, contrasting against his pale skin that I'd like to get a taste of tonight...and every night. Dark green eyes, smoldering with intensity, meet mine with a magnetic pull that sends shivers down my spine.
"You're late," I say coolly, even if my lips are tugging up at the corners.
"I'm sorry," he says, dropping into a low crouch in front of me, lifting my swollen feet off the stool and helping me into a pair of oversized flip-flops--his flip-flops. "Vesper wouldn't let me leave until I was done drilling the students."
"Old geezer," I mutter. "And Dar?"
Rune shakes his head. "He seems well enough."
I nod. I received letter from Maya, most of which I responded to. They're a thing now. She'd asked me if she could in the first letter, and I'd given my blessings--not that they needed it. I'd written Darian a letter. It was short and concise.
I'm sorry, and thank you. Be happy.
He hadn't replied, but then, I hadn't expected him to.
Rune drops my second foot and straightens, dropping a kiss on my forehead. "Come now."
I whine for a bit, but I let him lift me from the chair gently and guide me toward the door. My back hurts, and my legs wobble as I take each step.
But as he reaches for the door, my abdomen tightens, causing my breath to hitch. My hand flies to my swollen stomach, and I wince, pausing.
"You good?"
"Yeah. Contractions."
Waves of discomfort washes through me, and a breath escapes me when the tightening intensifies, becoming almost painful.
I take one step forward and warmth flows down my thighs, pooling around my feet. Rune and I look down at the same time and our gazes meet again, his widening with emotion I can't describe.
But I can describe mine. It is panic. My water broke.