If I were her, I wouldn’t forgive me.
I don’t know what the hell I’m going to say to get her to forgive me.
Until I realize, it isn’t up to me to make her forgive me at all.
Like I had to do with Avrell, it will be up to her to make that choice. All I can do is make sure she knows how sorry I am and hope she doesn’t want me gone.
I’m hopeful, until Draven notices my presence and his sub-bones crack. I’ve seen some pretty fantastic things since I’ve been with the morts, but I’ve never seen one of them transform so quickly and so violently. There’s no way I’m getting any closer, so I stop on the opposite side of the pen from them.
“I don’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to see if we could talk!” I shout. Another wave of pain flashes over my stomach, but I chalk it up to anxiety.
Molly flips her hair over her shoulder and holds a hand up to Draven, who has come to stand behind her. The rogcow makes a snorting, honking sound and she lays a hand on the beast’s head. And beast is a good name for it—creepy pink, hairless skin and one ugly eye. Yuck. Seems Molly’s ability to tame animals isn’t species-specific.
“I’m not sure that now is the best time, Grace,” Molly answers. I didn’t realize I would miss her after such a short time, but I do. Her bawdy laughter, her bubbly nature. I’d never had a true friend until Molly, and I can only hope I didn’t screw it up before I can tell her exactly that.
“It’ll only take a second and then I promise I’ll leave if that’s what you want.”
“My mate doesn’t want to talk to you,” Draven interjects.
I swallow thickly and meet his vengeful eyes. “I understand. I only want to reassure both of you that I will do everything in my power to help the mission to find your daughter. I’ll even go with Theron and Hadrian on their mission. I have intimate knowledge of the facility. I’ll go with them and break into Exilium Penitentiary and bring Willow back personally.”
“You’re pregnant,” Molly protests. “Besides, that’s not your responsibility.”
I take another step forward, then another when Draven doesn’t bare his sharp fangs in my direction. “My responsibility is to be a decent person to the woman who befriended me when I didn’t deserve one. I messed up. I hurt you. Let me make up for it,” I beg.
A vicious cramp has me closing my eyes and breathing deeply through my nose and then out through my mouth.
“Are you okay?” Molly asks.
Eileen makes a loud ROOOOONK and then I hear footsteps behind me before I can respond. The pain is so intense, I can’t speak until I feel it beginning to fade.
“What are you doing here?”
I manage to open my eyes and find a steaming Aria standing behind me. She passes off the snoozing bundle in her arms to Breccan, who tries to protest, but Aria shushes him.
With a hand on my belly, I try to focus through the pain. “I’m offering to help on the mission to go to the prison with Hadrian and Theron. To make up for holding back information that would have rescued your loved ones.”
This seems to take the wind from Aria’s sails, and she sputters. While she’s momentarily distracted, I turn back to Molly. “Please let me do this for you. You were there for me. Let me be there for you, too. As a friend. Please.”
“How am I supposed to trust you?” Molly asks.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you never did again.” I hold up a hand as my stomach heaves and contorts under my other palm. “I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m asking you for the chance to make this right.” The words burst out between breaths. These cramps are really serious, but I have to finish what I came to say and then I’ll go lie down.
Maybe Say and Jareth will feed me some fruit and ice-cold water to make them go away.
“Are you okay?” Aria asks. Her concerned face wavers in front of my blurry vision.
“What are you doing with our mate?” Sayer shouts, and then he and Jareth appear in the doorway and make a run to my side. “Did you hurt her?”
Both of them begin to snarl and the air is filled with the sound of cracking bones.
I take Sayer’s hand and squeeze tight, a scream filling my lungs and bursting free. That’s not the only thing that bursts. My water breaks and floods my thighs. I look up at the astonished faces of my mates.
“They didn’t hurt me. I’m just in labor.”
14
Sayer
Labor?
As in the mortling is coming?
The world spins around me until Jareth grips my bicep, his clawed fingers digging into me, keeping me focused and alert.