Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sera

The medical facility was in the Council Hall's west wing, a sterile building that smelled of antiseptic and felt nothing like the warm forest sanctuary. They put us in a private room with a single bed, a medical examination table, and windows that looked out onto the courtyard.

Elena slept in my arms, oblivious to the armed guards posted outside our door.

"Protective custody," Captain Morris had called it. But guards on the outside of the door meant we were prisoners, not patients.

Dante stood by the window, watching the courtyard with the focused intensity of someone calculating escape routes. Through the bond, I felt his mind working constantly, planning, preparing for threats that might come.

"You should sit down," I said. "You ran for miles to get to me. You must be exhausted."

"I'm fine." But he moved away from the window and sat beside me on the bed, careful not to jostle Elena. His hand reached out tentatively, touching her tiny fist. "She's so small."

"She's strong though. Marie said she's more developed than a typical newborn." I watched his face as he studied our daughter, seeing wonder and fear in equal measure. "You can hold her, you know."

"I don't want to wake her."

"You won't. She's a deep sleeper, apparently." I carefully transferred Elena to his arms, adjusting his grip so he was supporting her head properly.

Dante held her like she was made of glass, barely breathing, completely focused on the baby in his arms. "She has your nose."

"She has your hair. And I think your eyes too, though it's hard to tell yet."

"Elena." He said the name carefully, testing how it felt. "You named her without me."

"I'm sorry. It just felt right in the moment, and I—"

"It's perfect." He looked up at me, and I saw tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. "You did this alone. Gave birth without me there, made decisions without my input. I should have been there."

"You were dealing with Adrian. With the pack."

"Which doesn't matter compared to this. Compared to you." His voice was rough with emotion. "I felt it through the bond. The pain, the fear, the moment she was born. I felt everything and couldn't do anything to help."

"You sent me strength. I felt it, felt you pushing energy through the bond when I thought I had nothing left." I touched his face. "You were there, Dante. Maybe not physically, but you were with me."

A knock at the door interrupted us. The physician Captain Morris had mentioned entered—a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and efficient movements.

"I'm Dr. Reeves. I'm here to examine both of you." She set down her medical bag and pulled out instruments. "This won't take long, just standard postpartum checks and newborn assessment."

She was thorough but gentle, checking Elena's reflexes, heart rate, breathing. Then she examined me, noting the healing already taking place from Marie's herbs and the shrine's residual magic.

"Everything looks good," Dr. Reeves said finally. "The baby is healthy, perhaps even advanced for a newborn. And you're healing remarkably well for someone who gave birth in a forest less than three hours ago." She made notes on her clipboard. "I see no medical reason to separate mother and child."

Relief flooded through me. "So we can stay together?"

"From a medical standpoint, yes. But I understand there are legal complications." Dr. Reeves looked uncomfortable. "That's beyond my purview. I'm just here to assess health and safety."

After she left, Captain Morris returned with Elder Miriam. The old Council leader looked tired, like she'd aged years in the past few days.

"Dr. Reeves submitted her report. Mother and child are both healthy." Elder Miriam sat down in the chair across from the bed. "Which means the medical justification for emergency custody no longer exists."

"So we're free to go?" Dante asked.

"Not exactly. Margaret Hayes is demanding genetic testing before she'll withdraw her custody claim. She's convinced the baby is her son's biological child and that Sera is perpetuating a fraud." Elder Miriam folded her hands in her lap. "The Council has agreed to expedited testing. We'll take samples tonight, have results by morning before the public hearing."

"Fine." I held out my arm. "Test us. Prove what we already know."

"It's not that simple. Margaret is claiming the testing process could be manipulated, that you might have accomplices in the medical facility who'd falsify results." Elder Miriam sighed. "She's demanded an independent laboratory, one with no connections to either your pack or Marcus's."

"How long will that take?" Dante demanded.

"Three days at minimum. The samples have to be transported, processed, verified by multiple technicians." Elder Miriam looked at Elena. "Until then, Margaret has requested supervised visitation rights as potential grandmother."

"Absolutely not." I pulled Elena closer. "She doesn't get to see my daughter."

"If you refuse, it will look like you're hiding something. Like you're afraid the baby might actually be Marcus's and seeing them together would reveal the resemblance." Elder Miriam's voice was gentle but firm. "I'm trying to help you, Sera. But you need to give me something to work with. Some gesture of cooperation that shows you're not just being obstructive."

Through the bond, I felt Dante's rage. He wanted to refuse too, to throw Elder Miriam out and find a way to escape with Elena and me. But he was also thinking strategically, knowing that defiance now could cost us everything later.

"What kind of visitation?" he asked carefully.

"Supervised, in this room, for no more than thirty minutes. You and Sera present the entire time." Elder Miriam leaned forward. "It's a small concession that could ease a lot of tension before tomorrow's hearing."

"And if we refuse?"

"Then Margaret escalates. She'll claim you're denying her rightful access to her grandchild, paint you as hostile and unreasonable. The Council members who are on the fence will be swayed by her narrative." Elder Miriam looked at me directly. "One thirty-minute visit tonight, documented and witnessed, shows you're willing to be reasonable even if you believe she's wrong."

I looked down at Elena, still sleeping peacefully. The thought of Margaret Hayes holding her, touching her, pretending she had any right to this child made me physically ill.

But Elder Miriam was right. Refusing would play into their narrative of me being unstable and difficult.

"Okay," I said quietly. "But the moment she upsets Elena or says anything about taking her, the visit ends."

"Agreed." Elder Miriam stood. "I'll arrange it for seven o'clock. That gives you time to rest and prepare."

After she left, Dante paced the room like a caged animal. "I don't like this. Something feels wrong."

"Everything feels wrong. But what choice do we have?"

"We could leave. Right now. Take Elena and run before—"

"And go where? We'd be fugitives. They'd hunt us, and eventually they'd catch us. At least here we have a chance to prove the truth legally." I shifted on the bed, wincing as my body reminded me I'd just given birth. "We have to trust the process."

"I don't trust anything right now except you and that baby." Dante stopped pacing and came back to sit beside us. "But you're right. Running makes us look guilty, makes everything worse."

Elena woke then, making small hungry sounds. I nursed her while Dante watched, his expression a mix of wonder and protective fury.

"I won't let them take her," he said quietly. "I don't care what the Council rules, what Margaret claims, what laws they invoke. That's our daughter, and she stays with us."

"I know." Through the bond, I felt his absolute conviction. He would go to war for us if necessary, would burn down the entire territory to keep our family together.

The hours until seven o'clock crawled by. Maya brought us food and clean clothes. Marie stopped in to check on my healing and give me more herbs. Elder Thomas came with news about the public hearing—it would be held tomorrow at noon, full attendance required, all evidence presented openly.

Finally, at seven o'clock exactly, Captain Morris knocked on our door.

"Mrs. Hayes is here for her visitation."

Margaret Hayes entered slowly, and I was struck by how much she'd aged. She'd always been a strong woman, proud and commanding. Now she looked diminished, grief-worn, like she'd lost more than just her son.

Her eyes went immediately to Elena, and I saw naked hunger in her expression.

"She looks like him," Margaret whispered. "Like Marcus when he was born."

"She looks like herself," I said firmly.

Margaret approached the bed carefully, hands clasped in front of her like she was restraining herself from reaching out. "May I hold her?"

Every instinct screamed at me to refuse. But Elder Miriam was watching, Captain Morris was documenting, and I'd agreed to this.

"Dante holds her while you visit," I compromised. "You can sit close and see her, but she stays in our arms."

Margaret's jaw tightened, but she nodded and sat in the chair beside the bed. Her eyes never left Elena's face.

"She has the Hayes nose," Margaret said. "And the shape of her eyes—that's from my family, my grandmother had eyes exactly that shape."

"Or she just has eyes," Dante said coldly. "Because all babies have eyes."

"You can mock me all you want, but I know my grandchild when I see her." Margaret's voice shook with emotion. "Marcus told me about the pregnancy weeks before you left him, Sera. He was so happy, so excited to finally be a father. And then you ran off with his uncle and tried to claim the baby as yours."

"I didn't run off. I found my true mate, and the baby is his."

"Convenient story. True mate bonds are rare, almost mythical. But pregnancy after three years of trying? That's real, documentable, explainable by the fertility treatments I have records proving you received."

"Those records are fake. You created them after Marcus died, trying to—"

"I created nothing. They're genuine medical documentation from our pack facility, signed and dated appropriately." Margaret's voice rose. "You're the one creating false narratives, trying to steal my son's legacy because you've always been selfish and ungrateful."

"That's enough," Captain Morris said. "Mrs. Hayes, keep your tone civil or the visit ends."

Margaret took a breath, visibly controlling herself. When she spoke again, her voice was calmer but no less intense. "I lost my son. He's gone, and I'll never see him again. But this baby—she's all I have left of him. You can't understand what that feels like unless you've lost a child."

Something in her pain resonated despite my anger. She genuinely believed Elena was Marcus's daughter. In her grief-stricken mind, this baby was the last piece of her son she could hold onto.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said quietly. "Marcus and I had our problems, but I never wished him dead. And I'm sorry you're hurting. But Margaret, this baby isn't his. The genetic testing will prove that."

"We'll see what the testing proves. But until then, I have every right to know my grandchild." Margaret leaned forward slightly. "What's her name?"

I hesitated, not wanting to give her even that small piece of information. But Dante spoke first.

"Elena. Her name is Elena Blackwood."

The Blackwood surname hit Margaret like a slap. Her face flushed with anger.

"You've already given her his name? Before testing, before proof, before anything's been determined legally?" She stood abruptly. "That's fraud. You're establishing paternity through naming conventions before genetic proof exists. The Council will hear about this."

"The Council already knows," Elder Miriam said from the doorway. "And naming a child is a parent's right, Mrs. Hayes. It doesn't establish legal paternity."

"It establishes intent to defraud." Margaret headed for the door, then stopped and looked back at Elena one more time. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow the truth comes out, and we'll see who this baby really belongs to."

After she left, the room felt heavy with the confrontation's residue. Elena had slept through the entire thing, peaceful and unaware of the battle being fought over her.

"That went about as well as expected," Captain Morris said dryly. "I'll note in my report that the visit was completed per Council orders and that the child remained calm throughout."

When we were finally alone again, Dante held Elena close and looked at me with fierce determination.

"Tomorrow," he said. "Tomorrow we end this."