by Rose Haven
“What?”
Elizabeth paled—she felt a distant anger stirring within her, not quite her own, though not far removed.
“Mother was usually better at sticking to her guns, but I guess he had worn her down,” Avery said, shrugging. “I was only five, but I remember her telling me that being Father’s mistress was the only way she could get him to confess that he loved her, and me. But part of the condition of his claim was that she had to let him take a public mate. So, in comes Miyako, a foreign pureblood who Father mated in the name of public opinion. She was perfect. Except for that she hated me, and Mother.”
Elizabeth’s head throbbed with the sudden memory of a black-haired woman, tall and formidable, whose nails were kept filed to points.
“Mom was pregnant. It usually happens after a claim, though it looks like you beat it to the punch. She and Miyako antagonized each other until it started to make Mother ill; she complained to Father about the way Miyako treated us, but Father thought she was just oversensitive, because of the baby. If he had listened and disciplined his ‘proper mate,’ Miyako might not have had to courage to push my mother down a flight of stairs when no one was looking.”
Elizabeth choked with horror, her hand pressing to her mouth. Her own baby felt too still in her womb.
“She survived,” Avery said, as if to soothe her. “Damaged her back, but she might have walked away if she wasn’t six months along. She went into labor, birthed my stillborn sister, and despite Father’s healers she died of blood loss. Miyako tried to pretend that the fall had been Mother’s clumsiness, but Father was in such a state that he ripped her to pieces while I watched. I don’t know if he knew for sure what she had done. I guess it didn’t matter. He tossed her remains outside to rot, struck her existence from public record, and proclaimed that Emilie, not Miyako, would be buried as his mate. It was a scandal, but Father weathered it. Honestly, that was the least he owed her.”
Elizabeth glimpsed hot tears brimming in his eyes, before he simply blinked them back.
“I had lost my mother, my sister, and all I was left with was a father who couldn’t stand my presence for more than a handful of minutes. He was always gone, searching for the next version of her, like he could hit the reset button on the life he fucked up. No one wanted to know how I felt about that. I was stupidly thanking God when he finally gave up on it all, but then suddenly he packs up and leaves again—and he comes back with you.”
As Elizabeth saw now the tension in his body, the hatred in his eyes, she finally understood. Luthias had told her at the beginning that his providing for her was some sort of penance. Clearly, this was what he had meant.
She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the tears on her hand. She couldn’t help it. She was overcome by hopelessness she couldn’t explain, sorrow for Avery and for the woman she had been, subjected to fates they didn’t deserve. Avery was taken aback by her reaction; this wasn’t what he had expected.
“Hey…”
He sighed, standing.
“…I’m sorry,” he said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Mom would have raised me better than to dump all my angst on a pregnant woman. Just…seeing how easy you have it…it’s hard to take.”
She shook her head, slowly coming to her feet as well. She managed to wipe away her tears.
“No, you’re right.”
She had taken it all for granted. Her life was the spoils Emilie had earned, and now it was time to acknowledge the cost.
“I’ll talk to Luthias, when he comes home tonight,” she promised. “I’ll tell him I know.”
It seemed as though a weight had been lifted from Avery. For the first time, he bowed to her, acknowledging her status in the palace.
“Thank you, my lady.”
Though Luthias wouldn’t arrive for hours, Elizabeth awaited him in his chambers. She still wore her day dress, though the sun had set hours before; she had felt such anxiety about the meeting that she couldn’t bring herself to change. She sat at the edge of his bed, cradling her heavy stomach—it had been causing her pain, but she refused to acknowledge it now.
What do you think is going to happen? Emilie taunted, a trace of true irritation in the tone. Is he going to fall to his knees and beg for your love? You’re already his fuck toy. He’ll do what he pleases.
She didn’t care what he did. She wanted closure.
Luthias entered the room shortly before midnight. His hair was slightly tangled, his collar rumpled, both signs that he hadn’t given himself much time to think from morning to dusk. Obviously, he hadn’t expected to see her. He regarded her flatly at first, processing her presence as though he had just woken from sleep.
“…you should be resting,” he said at last, shedding his coat on the ground.
“You didn’t tell me Emilie died in childbirth.”
He froze. She thought she saw his heart seize behind eyes that stilled to glass.
“Who told you?” he asked.
“Does it matter?” she asked. “Why were you keeping it from me?”
“You didn’t remember,” he said, slumping back against the door, vacant. “I hoped you would…but you didn’t. I didn’t want to burden you with what happened if you didn’t have to know.”
“What happened, like it wasn’t your fault?!” she said, foreign anger rising in her. She stood from the bed, gripping the nightstand for support. “You couldn’t pay your pregnant lover any attention while a crazy woman abused her, a woman you let into our home to take my place, because I wasn’t worthy?!”
She remembered, then. Her fury. Her fear. Her broken heart. For all her fighting, she had ended up bloody and abandoned, forced to birth a child already killed by neglect. She had thought before she closed her eyes what a different life she might have had if she hadn’t tried to fight. If she had quietly bowed to her oppressors, and let them have their way. Death had finally broken her spirit—the spirit that would become Elizabeth.
For the first time, Luthias was brought to his knees. He stared at the floor, bent with the gravity of his grief, utterly expressionless. She felt that still-uncomfortable sensation of her fangs extending behind her lips, claws pricking into her palm—yet before she could snarl at him anew, he quieted her with a word.
“Forgive me.”
He closed his eyes, bowing his head to her in disgrace.
“Please…forgive me.”
The fire burning in her heart faded. She stared at him, shocked silent.
“I cannot take back the wrong I’ve done you,” he said. “All I can do is try again. Your new body is nearly pure, but I would have mated you now as the most diluted partling, the moment you asked. I will tear apart any who threaten you. I will nurture any child you bear. I will do everything I should have done for you when you were Emilie, though you are now my Elizabeth. So please…”
His head hung lower, as he touched a hand to the floor.
“I beg your forgiveness.”
Her claws had already retracted. His apology had struck her numb. All along, Emilie had been trying to punish Luthias for replacing her with a passive replica, when all along Luthias had known that her passivity was the damage he had wrought. He nurtured her, loved her, both for what she had been and what she had become, because they were one in the same.
“You’re…forgiven.”
Elizabeth stood before him, her hand trembling as she touched the crown of his black hair. She choked back a sob; she tugged his roots as her hand tangled in his locks, but he didn’t complain. He just looked up at her, silent, but far from emotionless.
“It’s ok, Luthias,” she managed, though her throat was tight. “You killed that bitch…and you stopped me from selling myself…so…it’s ok, you son of a bitch…”
He touched her hand, slowly rising to his feet. Unable to speak, he brought her into his arms, holding her shoulder against his chest so he could hold her and all of her baby. She cried against him, as he held her tight. Elizabeth could feel the separatene
ss of Emilie’s voice fade, until there was nothing but her own thoughts.
“You stupid…stupid dog,” she sobbed, and he only held her closer.
When she thought things had finally settled down for her, she was crippled by horrifying pain. She doubled over in his arms, though he gripped her quickly
“Elizabeth—what is it?”
She could only gasp, a burst of water between her legs answering his question. The baby was coming.
Chapter 6: Birth
Elizabeth had expected to be rushed off to a cold room where the child would be pried out with tongs or some other archaic equipment; she was startled when Luthias helped her onto his own bed, loosing the buttons on her dress and removing her undergarments, letting her press herself back against the familiar headboard as the was ravaged by pain. He left only to bellow out into the hall, demanding assistance.
“It’s going to be all right,” he told her, and she believed him.
Two midwives would arrive soon enough to help her out of her clothes, claiming she would be more comfortable if she were naked during labor. Luthias kicked off his shoes so he could join her on the bed, holding her against his chest when she wished it, or holding her hand as she pressed back on all fours, sobbing. The child was bigger than they had expected. Soon she could feel its head wedged in her pelvis, like a boulder trying to squeeze out the mouth of a very small cave.
“I can’t,” she sobbed.
Luthias kissed the hand he held, then her wrist. He pulled her back against his chest once more, where he could let her spread her legs for the midwives, and she could push by bearing down on his knees. She groaned as tears brimmed, but it became a faint pleasure when he softly caressed her massive breasts to soothe her, while gentle lips pressed to her neck.
"Ah, my, that is...quite a head," a midwife said, agape as she looked now at the cavern opening up between Elizabeth's thighs.
When Luthias glared, the other midwife quickly changed her tune. "Our lady bears such healthy children!" she said instead.
Elizabeth was less than amused by her praise. She gripped Luthias' knees again as she spread herself as far as she could go, screaming through clenched teeth.
"CHRIST!"
She couldn't see a thing over her monstrous womb, though she felt more than clearly how stubbornly the large baby slid down her passage, inch by inch, squeezing between hips that could barely manage its size. Elizabeth pressed on her own stomach, as though that might help--she regretted her haste when her cunt burned with the bulge of an infant's skull, while the rest of his body continued to clog her passage far tighter than nature's intent. She moaned, and screamed, until Luthias himself helped hold her thighs apart.
"Almost there, my lady," the younger midwife soothed, her hand stroking softly around the unholy bulge that threatened to split her in two.
It seemed an eternity before more of a skull emerged, and then an ear, and when the little nose finally poked out over her lips she cried with relief. Still there was more to come, but the baby refused to move any further in that position. Worried, the midwives had her shift again onto her hands and knees, and asked that Luthias come behind her to guide the baby. Elizabeth ended up pressing her forehead into the headboard, arm hooked under her still-bulging belly as she pressed down and squeezed out the rest of the cantaloupe of a head, and struggled against broad shoulders.
"Just a little more, please," her midwives urged. "You're doing so well..."
She thought she was going to rupture. Teeth clenched hard, she gave it a last push, and the baby burst free with such force that she didn't know whether it was its screams or hers that were loudest. She collapsed onto the bed, half realizing that it was Luthias who had caught the child, who was still tied to her by its cord.
"Of course it's a boy," the older midwife laughed. "Robust and handsome, for a newborn."
The baby shrieked, his lungs more than healthy, but Luthias didn't seem perturbed. He was frozen, spellbound by the wriggling infant, whose hair was as dark as his own.
Elizabeth managed to sit up, touching Luthias' arm, hardly enough energy left to ask him what she wanted to. Yet when she looked at her son for the first time, seeing how his shapely nose crinkled as he screamed, how lovely his cheekbones were already, how black the little tufts of hair were on his head, she knew who his father was.
"Do you...have a name?" she whispered.
Luthias cradled his son with pride. She thought she saw tears in his eyes.
"Taryn," he said. "The next lord will be Taryn Cennasaí."
Exhausted, but happy, she rest her forehead against his shoulder. The world was reduced to mumbles and an infant's screams, which seemed now the most perfect thing she had ever heard. As Luthias helped her hold her son to her breast, she found herself nuzzling his tiny face, not minding the grime that lingered on him from his journey. He was hers, and Luthias'. He was Avery's brother, and Kieran's nephew. For all the tears she had shed just hours before, all she could think about now was how lucky her son was, and how much love he would have in his life.
THE END
Cougar Romance
The Talisman
Secret Shades of the Alpha Blood Series Book One
Paula Knight
Cougar Romance: The Talisman
Chapter One
Diana Grant sat in her car staring at the imposing building in front of her.
‘It’s just a job,’ she thought desperately to herself, ‘just another job. You’ll be in and out in six months. There’s nothing to worry about.’
All the same, her heart thudded in her chest and she hesitated once, twice, three times before getting out of the car.
Stepping out, she read the prominent yellow sign that hung over the three story, oddly lovely red building built to resemble the Zunni pueblo that sat one hundred and fifty miles from downtown Albuquerque where this building stood.
“Yazzie Properties,” it said.
No outsider could possibly have guessed that this relatively small building was headquarters for one of the largest real estate companies in the world.
Yazzie Properties was worth over 6.2 Billion dollars and owned thousands of hotels, amusement parks and office buildings around the world.
People expected a big name company like that to be housed in a huge skyscraper in New York or, possibly, LA. But, none the less, here it was. Housed in a little office in downtown Albuquerque at the insistence of Cathassa Yazzie, the company’s young CEO.
Of course, the company also had a building in New York. That was the expected huge skyscraper on Wall Street. But, it was not the headquarters. Mr. Yazzie had insisted that the headquarters for his company remain in New Mexico; close as possible to his old home on the Zuni reservation.
Catahassa Yazzie, as it happened, was the reason Diana had accepted this temporary position through her agency. It was also the reason why she was so hesitant to go inside.
Finally, she took a deep breath, opened the door and entered.
Once inside, she spotted a small office suite in the corner of the lobby. The lettering on the door told her that this was the office for Yazzie Properties she was looking for. She opened this door and stepped inside.
She was surprised to find that this office looked like a small travel agency or art gallery. There were southwestern style paintings which filled the walls with bright red and teal colors. An equally colorful sofa and glass table sat in the lobby at the building’s entrance. Behind that was a modern glass office desk which was stylish and out of place in its quaint, colorful surroundings.
Diana walked up to the desk where she saw a young woman with straightened blonde hair, stylish skinny black pants and a bright top. This ultra-modern girl looked at home behind the glass desk but certainly did not blend with the rest of the building.
“Hello?” Diana asked walking up to the girl.
“Can I help you?” the girl asked looking up from her computer with a cheery smile and a high pitched breathy voice. Diana hope
d she would not have to replicate this fake demeanor in her position. She had never been good at false cheerfulness.
“Yes,” Diana answered, “I was told to ask for Amanda Hawkins. I’m Diana Grant. The agency sent me.”
“Oh!” she said excitedly sitting up straighter in her seat, “you’re the new receptionist!”
“Temporary receptionist,” Diana amended, “I’m just here until…”
“Until Olivia gets back from taking care of her Mother,” the girl answered quickly, “I know. I was here when Olivia got the call. Her Mom hadn’t been doing well for a while but, when she fell...well, it was clear ‘Liv wasn’t going to be able to stay around here. I’m Sandra, by the way, I’ll be working with you,” she said all this very fast and at the end, she held out a hand to shake Diana’s. Diana took it reluctantly.
“Nice to meet you,” Diana answered, “Is Ms. Hawkins here or should I…”
“Oh she’s in her office,” Sandra answered, “or, I should say, Mr. Yazzie’s office. They’re doing their morning debriefing...well...that’s what she calls it. I’ll tell her you’re here.”
Sandra picked up the receiver on the phone and pressed a button.
“Amanda,” she said.
“What is it, Sandra? You know I’m in a meeting,” a woman’s voice answered. It was much deeper than Sandra’s and had a certain coldness to it.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Sandra said quickly. Her smile had faded and the brightness in her voice now had a trace of fear in it, “it’s just...I wanted to let you know that Diana Grant is here...the new receptionist.”
The woman on the other end of the line heaved an audible sigh.
“I told her not to be early,” she muttered so that Diana could clearly hear her. There was silence for a moment before the woman on the receiver said, “Sandra, have her wait in the lobby, I’ll be out in five minutes.”
“OK,” Sandra said and hung up the phone as fast as she could, as though it was a poisonous snake ready to jump up and bite her at any moment. She stared at it with trepidation for a moment before turning back to Diana and giving her the bright, bubbly smile once again.
