Ella
Pain.
My first reaction is pain - blistering and hot, like having my body suspended over a pit of flames and slowly roasted. Sinclair won’t need me anymore. I’ll lose him. For all my resistance, I’ve become hopelessly attached to Sinclair, and my feelings for him are far stronger than I’d like to admit. The idea of not having him in my life anymore is so excruciating I can’t even consider the possibility head-on. I want to run and hide from it, to pretend it isn’t real rather than suffer the agony it unleashes.
I breathe through the torment, wondering how much time has passed while I grapple with this news. It feels like hours, but it’s probably only been moments. Once the pain passes, there is only denial. Lydia can’t be pregnant. She and Sinclair attempted to conceive a child for years… one night couldn’t possibly give them success when years of trying resulted in nothing more than broken hearts and a failed marriage. Right?
Of course, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing in the world if they did succeed after all this time. My conscience suggests – and she’s right. How many stories have I heard over the years from well-meaning friends trying to make me feel better about my own infertility struggles? “Just wait, the day you stop trying is the day you’ll conceive.” they’d say, or, “sometimes the stress alone can keep you from succeeding, at some point you just have to let all that go.”
They didn’t realize how hurtful it was, almost like they were blaming my infertility on me wanting it too badly. They also didn’t appreciate that this might be true for some women, but it’s completely false for many others. Some women would never conceive, no matter what they did. Still, they might have been wrong to try and placate me that way, but that doesn’t mean those cases never happen. Maybe a blacked out one night stand was what it took for Lydia and Sinclair to finally make a baby together.
What if Lydia is pregnant? I think hesitantly. What if she and Sinclair finally achieved the thing which had cost them their marriage? Could a child be enough to repair the damage in their relationship? Suddenly I see a future where Sinclair and his mate have a child – while my own pup and I are able to quietly live in the background – no more lies, no more fraud. Completely safe.
Wouldn’t that be better than this? Even if I’m heartbroken over Sinclair, isn’t my baby’s safety more important than anything? Won’t I always be sick with guilt as long as I’m continuing this fraud? Isn’t it right for the pack to have a true Luna?
No! Something feral and ferocious screams up inside me, Sinclair is ours! She can’t have him!
That’s selfish. I realize, hating the truth even as I recognize its weight. It’s selfish to keep him for myself if it’s not right for him, for the pack. This isn’t just about me. It’s about millions of people who need Sinclair to lead them.
“And if she is pregnant?” I ask, just barely surfacing from the thoughts attempting to drown me.
“She’s not.” Sinclair dismisses easily, echoing my initial thoughts. “we don’t even know if I slept with her, and even if I did, we tried for years to no avail.”
“But what if she is?” I press, needing him to hear me out. “I mean, if she is pregnant, then you’ll have another potential heir, and its mother will be a she-wolf. That’s everything you've been looking for. I have to think that a pup with two shifter parents will be stronger than one with a human mother.”
“We don’t know that.” Sinclair digs in his heels, his sharp gaze piercing me. “And you’ll make a better Luna than Lydia ever would.”
“We both know that’s not true.” I correct him gently, wanting to slide out of the bed so he can’t use his physical proximity to overpower my senses. “Because no matter what I do, I can never be a real one.”
“What are you saying?” Sinclair inquires, frowning deeply now.
“I’m saying that if she is pregnant, that might not be a bad thing.” I sigh, trying and failing to leave the protective circle of his arms.
“What?” Sinclair growls, with abject disbelief. I’m not surprised by his reaction, because I’m well aware of how strange it is for me to be making this argument. “Ella, you know what kind of woman Lydia is – she’s narcissistic and power hungry. In some ways she’s as bad as the Prince.”
“I know and I’m not saying she isn’t terrible, just that you need a true Luna.” I remark with a weak shrug. “And with you there to keep her in check, her worse nature wouldn’t ever get out of control.”
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