ELENA POV
Three days later, I stared at the third pregnancy test lying on my bathroom counter; all three showed the same result.
Positive.
My hands wouldn't stop shaking, the mate bond wound on my chest still bled through the bandages I changed every few hours.
I wrapped the tests in toilet paper and shoved them deep in the trash, then sat on the edge of my bathtub trying to breathe.
"Okay," I whispered to myself, "okay, you can do this."
I couldn't do this.
I needed supplies, prenatal vitamins at least, maybe some crackers that might stay down.
The pharmacy was fifteen minutes away, and I pulled on a hoodie and kept my head down as I walked.
Inside, fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like angry bees. I grabbed a basket and headed for the vitamin aisle.
"Prenatal vitamins," I muttered, scanning the shelves.
"Aisle seven, dear."
I jumped and turned around. An elderly woman stood behind me, silver hair pulled back in a neat bun.
She stared at my face with an intensity that made me uncomfortable.
"Thank you," I said, trying to move past her.
She grabbed my wrist, her grip surprisingly strong.
"You have his eyes," she whispered, "but your father's stubborn chin."
"Do I know you?" I tried to pull my hand back.
"Not yet," she said, leaning closer, "he's coming for you both."
My blood turned cold.
"Who's coming?"
But when I blinked, she was gone, vanished into the crowd as she'd never been there.
I stood there for a moment, my wrist tingling where she'd grabbed me, then I grabbed the vitamins and paid quickly.
The cashier didn't look at me twice.
I walked back to my apartment slower this time, thinking about the old woman's words.
He's coming for you both.
She knew, somehow she knew about the baby when I'd just found out myself.
I reached my building and climbed the stairs to the third floor. My keys were already in my hand when I reached my door.
Something was wrong.
I could feel it the second I stepped inside. Nothing looked different, but the air felt disturbed.
Someone had been in my apartment.
I walked through slowly, checking the tiny kitchen, the bathroom, the closet, everything seemed normal until I reached my bed.
There on my pillow sat a stuffed black wolf, small enough to fit in a child's hands.
I'd never seen it before.
Tucked under one paw was a piece of paper. I picked it up with shaking hands.
"Protect what he doesn't know exists."
I dropped the note and backed away until I hit the wall.
They knew someone knew about the baby.
I looked around my tiny apartment, one room with peeling paint and a leaky ceiling. This was all I had left after my father died.
After Cassian rejected me in front of everyone.
After the pack I'd grown up in turned their backs and watched me bleed.
I was done running, done hiding, done letting them control my life.
I grabbed my phone and searched for apartments, somewhere far from the Obsidian Pack territory.
Somewhere I could start over, raise this baby away from the people who'd destroyed me.
I found a small town in northern Washington, three hundred miles away, a wildlife sanctuary looking for a rehabilitator.
Perfect.
I applied right there, sitting on my bed next to the stuffed wolf, and within an hour, they'd emailed back offering me the job and a small cabin on the property.
I booked a flight for tonight.
By seven, I was at the airport, one small bag with everything I owned. I'd left the rest behind because none of it mattered.
I made it through security and found a seat in the corner of the waiting area.
My flight didn't leave for another hour, but at least I was one step closer to freedom.
I pulled out my phone to check the gate number.
It buzzed in my hand.
Unknown number.
I stared at it, my thumb hovering over the decline button, but something made me answer.
"Hello?"
"Elena," the voice was male, slurred, desperate, "Elena, thank god."
"Who is this?"
"It's Damien," he said, "Cassian's brother, listen to me, you need to listen."
I pressed the phone harder against my ear.
"I'm listening."
"Don't trust Marcus," he said, the words tumbling out fast, "don't trust my uncle, your father didn't, your father tried to warn us, but Marcus, he"
A crash came through the phone, loud enough to make me flinch.
"Damien?" I said, "Damien, are you okay?"
Glass breaking, someone shouting, then nothing.
The line went dead.
"Damien!" I tried to call back.
The number didn't exist, as it had never been real.
I sat there staring at my phone, my heart pounding.
Don't trust Marcus, your father tried to warn us.
My father had died five years ago in what everyone said was a rogue attack, but what if it wasn't?
What if Marcus, Cassian's beloved uncle who'd stood beside him at the rejection ceremony, what if he'd done something?
The intercom crackled overhead.
"Now boarding flight 237 to Silvermist."
I stood up and grabbed my bag, and walked to the gate with my head held high.
I wasn't running away, I was choosing to leave.
Choosing to protect my baby from people who saw my bloodline as poison.
The flight attendant scanned my ticket.
"Have a nice flight, Miss Hartwood."
I found my seat by the window and buckled in; the plane door closed with a heavy thunk.
I pressed my hand against my stomach as we pulled back from the gate.
Somewhere down there, Cassian was probably in his mansion, celebrating his narrow escape from bonding with a Hartwood.
He had no idea what he'd lost.
The plane lifted off, and the city lights fell away beneath us.
I touched my stomach again and whispered a promise.
"I'll keep you safe, I'll give you a better life than this, somewhere they can't hurt us."
The plane climbed higher into the night sky.
Behind me, the Obsidian Pack territory disappeared into shadow.
Ahead, somewhere in the mountains, a new life waited.