The Coffin He Built for Love

"This is your fault! How dare you fight my power!"

Morwen’s voice echoed in my head, full of offended rage.

The next second, a pain so deep it felt like it was tearing my soul apart shot through me.

I let out a shriek and my body arched violently before slamming back onto the ground.

Morwen's mind magic was recklessly draining the life from both me and my child.

I curled into a ball, a hand clamped over my stomach. I could feel the strong kicks inside me grow faint, then fainter still.

"No... please, no..." I begged, but it was useless.

Warm blood trickled from the corners of my mouth, my nose, my eyes.

My vision blurred. The world was spinning.

All I could hear was Morwen's cold cursing and the faint, fading beat of my own heart.

My consciousness started to slip away. I felt Death's cold fingers on my cheek, beckoning me closer.

Just when I thought it was over, Morwen seemed to realize something was wrong.

Seeing me bleeding from my eyes and nose, my breathing shallow, her face went pale.

She hadn't expected this. She never imagined my hybrid child could make her magic spiral out of control.

She seemed to panic, fumbling to stop the spell, but it was too late.

The force draining my life was a vortex she could no longer command.

The secret chamber was dark. She had to grab me by the hair and yank my head up just to see my face.

Suddenly, she grunted and slammed my head back against the bottom of the coffin.

"You pathetic bitch. Not screaming now, are you? Keep pretending!" she spat, trying to cover her own guilt.

Her eyes filled with disgust, but I saw something else behind it. Fear. She was afraid of her own power.

"You think this will make Justin feel sorry for you? It will only make him more disgusted!"

She stormed out.

Before she left, she sprinkled a circle of silver dust and moonpetal ashes around me. A ward. It smothered my senses and cut me off from the world.

The sharp, cold scent of the mixture made my already shattered mind ache even more.

In the endless dark, I heard my baby's cry—not in the air, but in my soul. A tiny voice, already fading, pleading for "Mama."

I broke down, sobbing.

I was supposed to meet my baby today. Hold him in my arms.

I was so close.

Why was fate so cruel to me and my child?

A guttural, animalistic howl tore from my throat.

Helplessness pierced my heart.

The hope of rescue was almost gone.

I stroked my belly through the pain and spoke to my baby.

My baby deserved better. He should have been born in a loving pack. He should have had a father who cherished his mother. He would have been happy.

My breathing grew shallow, the blood turning to ice in my veins.

Suddenly, the secret chamber door was thrown open and a magical torch flared to life.

A young blood thrall startled when he saw me lying in a pool of blood.

I used my last bit of strength to inch forward, whispering, "Help... me."

His voice trembled with fear. "Who are you? What did you do to be punished by the lord like this?"

He was wary.

"I'm... Justin's mate," I said, my voice a dry rasp.

With a blood-smeared finger, I struggled to pull down the tattered collar of my dress, revealing the mate's mark Justin had left on my neck.

It was stained with blood, its light dim and barely visible, but the unique shape of the brand was unmistakable.

"This is his mark."

He recognized the mate's bond and started to move toward me, but then he hesitated, immediately opening a blood bond to Justin.

"My lord, I'm in the secret chamber. I've found Lady Gracie. She's... she's lying in a pool of blood. Should I take her to the Bloodspring Sanctuary?"

Justin's reply was full of confusion. "You're mistaken. It's not blood. It's an illusion, a symptom of her wolf going feral. The entire secret chamber is contaminated by it. No wonder my mother was so angry."

His voice hardened. "Don't take her to the Sanctuary. She's fine. She's just pulling another desperate trick to give birth first and ruin the Progenitor's blessing. Leave her. I'll come get her myself."

The thrall tried to explain, but Justin had already cut the connection.

He looked at me with pity, then walked past me to move some supplies.

Just when I thought he was going to abandon me, he came back.

War waged within him.

The lord's command terrified him, but the gruesome scene before him pricked at his conscience.

"You're pregnant," he said, his voice firming. "I can't just let you die."

He looked down, his voice full of sorrow. "My sister... she's human, and she's carrying a child. I cannot stand by and let a curse fall upon her family because I did nothing."

He had finally overcome his fear of the lord.

Without another moment of hesitation, he strode forward, carefully lifted me from the coffin, and rushed toward the clan's main healing chamber.

I finally let out a breath of relief.

I was saved.

But when we reached the healing chamber, there were no alchemists. No potions.

There was nothing. No way to deliver my baby.

Worried about Isolde, Justin had moved every available resource and person to her sanctuary.

I was still in mortal danger.