Chapter 35 35
Selena’s POV
The next morning, I found Lena in the garden sitting on the bench she had spent so many hours being intimate with Lucien. She had lost color in her face and dark circles beneath her eyes that indicated she had spent the night crying more than sleeping.
"May I join you?" I asked softly, holding a tray with herbal tea and light breakfast items.
She nodded without meeting my eyes, her hand curled protectively over the small bump that had not yet begun to show.
“I brought some ginger tea,” I said, perching on her. "It helps with morning sickness. This recipe was taught to me by one of the midwives in Scotland hundreds of years ago.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, taking the cup I held out to her.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, me allowing her to adjust to the tranquility while I prepared to start my preconceived spiel.
"I owe you an apology," I sighed at last. “I haven’t been very considerate about how me being around would screw up your thing with Lucien.
“It’s not your fault,” she answered, but sounded nothing of the sort. “This is more your home than it’s mine.”
“Oh, darling, that’s not at all true. You’re his mate, mother to his child. That makes you an heir I could never compete with.”
I paused to let that sink in before going on, my voice sympathetically serious.
"Not that I'm not concerned you've been under a lot of pressure lately. Pregnancy is such a fragile thing, particularly so early."
Her hand clutched protectively at her stomach. "I'm being careful."
"I'm sure you are. But emotional stress is just as dangerous as physical strain.” I sipped my tea thoughtfully. "Are you having any strange symptoms to speak of? Cramping, bleeding, dizziness?"
“A little nausea, but the midwife said it’s normal.”
"Usually, yes. Though with hybrids, it's... a bit more complicated."
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And I studied your face as I cast that seed of doubt. The cold pinch around her eyes let me know it had found its home.
"Complicated how?" she asked.
“Well, it’s always a difficult pregnancy when it comes to shifters and lycans,” I confided in that ‘this is unfortunate medical news’ kind of way. “The various magical energies do not always agree with one another in their development. I have seen situations in which the clash of blood caused… complications.”
"What kind of difficulties?"
Her voice barely rose above a whisper this time, and I struggled against the smile that threatened to form on my lips at how easily she’d fallen into my trap.
"Miscarriages, mostly. Sometimes there are birth defects, if the pregnancy can come to term. I put out my hand to pat her arm. “Not that I’m trying to terrify you, darling. It's just… you gotta know what’s out there, so you can guard against it.”
"What precautions?"
"Rest, primarily. Avoiding stress. Ensuring you have knowledgeable medical supervision about mixed-blood pregnancies.” I paused meaningfully. “More importantly, avoiding situations that could result in an emotional upset.”
I didn’t need to, I added, like fighting with your mate over his ex. She was smart enough to do that on her own..
“The baby feels good,” she said, but doubt was creeping into her voice.
“Don’t worry I’m sure it’s alright,” I smiled reassuringly.
Fear was so convenient as a tool, particularly when rooted in just enough truth to be plausible.
The chance to stake my claim came that afternoon when Lucien complained of sudden dizziness while meeting with our pack elders.
“You’re overworking yourself,” I added and laid him flat on his back in order to check his pulse and temperature. “Your body is fighting the poison. You need proper rest."
“I can’t take a break,” he objected. “Too many immediate priorities to deal with.”
“Then have someone else do it,” I snapped, herding him into his own private chambers. “Your pack needs you in one piece more than they need you to be a martyr for their cause.”
I knew Lena was lurking in the wings, observing my meticulous efficiency in overseeing her mate's treatment. She began to come over a few times, appearing to want to assist, and I put my body in between them with a bit of language she could understand.
“Let me just test your reflexes,” I said, and took a tiny medical kit from my bag. “There are agents that leave some residue in the nervous system.”
“Your pupils are reacting properly, that’s good. No sign of neurological damage." I measured his pulses at various stops, my hands moving with that certainty of touch of one who had done this thousands and thousands of times. "Even your blood levels are a little high. Stress, most likely."
“What can I do to help?” Lena asked hesitantly.
"Well, don't you think it's about time we had a little talk?" I said nervously, avoiding her gaze. “Medical exams require concentration and the presence of too many people in a room may be distracting.”
I saw her face fall at the rejection, but she left without a word. When she was gone, I kept up the fiction of examining as efficiently as possible theatrically though my body language made it look like I was lingering over Lucien's skin after peeling stunning lace and silk off him.
“Your shoulder muscles are cramped,” I whispered, my fingers skimming across his back with easy familiarity. “You’re holding too much tension here. Let me work on that."
What came next was a massage that was completely professional on the surface, but with intimacy coming through in its physical form. I had done this for him many times over the centuries, and muscle memory made it easy to slip back into patterns that had once been second nature.
"Better?" “My hands were resting lightly on his shoulders when I asked.”
"A lot," he conceded, and there was a note of ease in his tone that I hadn't heard since I returned.
“You have to let people take care of you once in a while,” I said, gently. “You don’t have to take on every burden alone.”
I heard movement in the hallway outside, as I was speaking. Lena, presumably eavesdropping on our conversation and interpreting it in her own way.
I spoke in a loud voice to prevent any misunderstanding as I went along. "Some things are too important to trust in the hands of youth, Lucien. Your own health, the safety of the pack, your own ability to take care of all who rely on you—these are not places in which good intentions can supersede knowledge."
It was a message that must have been loud enough even for those who had overheard it in the hallway: I was crucial, others just well intentioned but not good enough
My chance to make one last push came two days later, when I discovered Lena in the nursery she was setting up for their baby. She was rocking and staring with such deep sorrow into the empty crib, I almost wanted to feel bad for her.
“It’s a beautiful room,” I told her, sitting down in the chair next to hers. "You have excellent taste."
"You're welcome," she responded unenthusiastically.
"Are you alright, dear? You seem troubled."
I half-expected her to sidestep with some nice words of comfort. Then her character cracked and the words came tumbling from her tongue.
“I can’t stop thinking about what you said. About mixed-blood pregnancies being dangerous. What if something goes wrong? What if the baby doesn't make it, because of what I am?”
"Oh, sweetheart." I went over to her, took her hands in mine, a compassionate look on my face. "You can't think like that. Worrying won't change anything."
"But what if you're right? What if my shifter blood means that I can't safely carry his child?"
“Now listen to me,” I said with determination. There are so many other, overriding factors that bloodline compatibility is only a small part of. Yes, there are risks, but there are risks with any pregnancy. The key is that you are taking every effort to lower those risks.”
"Like what?"
"Well, reducing stress is crucial. Bad relationships, emotional confusion, feelings of instability—any of which could potentially harm fetal development in the case of a supernatural pregnancy.”
I saw her face take in that information and link it to the perpetual backstory tension with Lucien.
“But how can I be stress free when my whole life is so uncertain?” she asked desperately.
“That’s a great question, and I don’t know,” I replied, thinking about it carefully. “And I believe it takes some critical self-examination of what is really best for everyone.”
"What do you mean?"
I selected my next words very carefully, pulling every bit of grudging wisdom into them, hoping they would not sound manipulative.
“Sometimes, honey, the kindest thing we can do is to remove ourselves from a situation that’s hurting everyone involved. It takes a good deal of courage to say, “You know what, maybe I’m only making things worse, and not better.”
"You think I should leave." It wasn't a question.
“Then you might want to think about what would happen if you did,” I answered gently. "Lucien could heal from his recent traumatising experience without the added anxiety and complexity of feeling out relationship semantics. The pack wouldn't suffer for lack of leadership or an issue of loyalty. And you..."
I stopped, allowing her to shift in and lean forward.
“You’d be able to center on having a healthy pregnancy, without the ongoing trauma of trying to prove yourself in a world you never had any say in joining.”
“But I’m in love with him,” she murmured.
"I know you do. And that’s precisely why maybe you should be thinking about what, in fact, is best for HIM right now — not just whatever feels best to you this second.”
I said all that then paused for a moment before dropping the hammer with unbearable niceness.
“If you are really in love with Lucien, and if your child’s well-being is truly what concerns you most — then maybe the question isn’t whether there is a way for you to stay. Maybe the question is whether you’re strong enough to leave.”
Watching tears start to fall from her lashes I could tell I had done exactly what I came here to do. Also she was willing to take herself out of the equation entirely; she believed that this was not a defeat, but an act of love on her part.
“I can help you,” I murmured. “Should you choose to take that path? Set the stage to get there safely, and make sure you have everything necessary to begin anew at your new location. We’ll keep it up our sleeve until you’re ready to own it with Lucien.”
She didn’t answer right away, but I could see her gears were turning. The seed had been planted, and it would grow until the solution was the most logical choice for everyone’s problems.
I just needed to wait for her to think she decided leaving me was her own idea.