Chapter Ten

I miscarried both babies in those next two hours.

Ezra tried to give me a sense of peace through his touch, but I would have none of it after the medic announced I was, indeed, losing them. I brushed his hand away, still feeling the constant ache inside my stomach, and told him, “Pain needs to be remembered.” With a miscarriage being a natural process, his power wouldn’t have helped much with the pain. I needed to feel it all.

Sitting beside the bed again, he leaned his elbows on the mattress, with one of his hands covering his mouth and the other hovering above my head before falling to the pillow. Inhaling deeply, he nodded woodenly, his gaze meeting mine in mutual understanding before lowering so no others would see his stricken expression. He swallowed hard, his eyes blinking repeatedly, blindly staring at the mattress.

I curled up in response to the tight ache stretching to not only my back, but to my legs as well, and I cried softly for children I had never imagined I would want.

King Kincaid didn’t try to make anyone leave this time, but sat on the chair with his head in his hands, bowed, just as everyone else did — they weren’t leaving me, but gave me a semblance of privacy. Jack held Pearl when she began gently crying, his own face turned away from everyone as he rubbed her back in soothing motions.

Ezra peered up to me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he gently wiped mine away, then lay his head next to my shoulder, eyes steadfast on mine, and murmured with a hoarse voice, “Pain should always be remembered.”

My smile was bittersweet and watered down by more tears. “Well, that, and the fact hope will always be that eternal bitch when she turns a deaf ear.”

“And luck,” he whispered, nodding, his head rubbing against my arm as he flicked a finger under his eye when a single tear escaped, swiftly making it disappear as if it were never there. “Luck never knows the right time to give or take.”

Gritting my teeth, I breathed heavily as my uterus contracted. “Irony.” Breathing deeply through the ache that was nowhere near as bad as my thoughts. “It’s a twisted f**ker.”

His eyes closed briefly and again he nodded, his jaw clenched. “Irony is definitely one sick mother-fucker.” Bright green, bloodshot eyes opened, meeting my own. The backs of his fingers ran over my cheeks, wiping away the wetness. “It’s nothing compared to happiness.”

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I snorted through gritted teeth. “What happiness?”

“Exactly.”

“Reality interrupts—” Jaw clenching, my nostrils flared as I felt a gush of blood flow.

A whisper. “Life.” His blink was slow. “The mother of all bitches.”

“And the beauty?”

“Its absence is duly noted.”

“Only to be found by those later.”

Another swipe of my cheeks. “Once they’ve suffered to the point they scream for death.”

“Full circle.”

His hand found mine in a gentle hold. “Pain needs to be felt.”

Once it was determined I had fully lost them, the Elders and Kings silently left the room after each one pulled me into a bear hug. Even Cahal. Bindi glanced around at the remaining occupants — Pearl, Jack, and Ezra — before delicately clearing her throat and saying, “Ms Ruckler, I’d like to talk with you privately.” She held the door wide open for them to leave.

I shook my head on the pillow, not wanting to move further. “Just shut the door. They may hear whatever you have to say.” My voice and heart were empty, void of caring about a damn thing right now. Including hurting Bindi’s feelings when she cleared her throat again, peering at me pointedly. “I said shut the f**king door.”

She stiffened, eyeing me, but did as told. The door was firmly shut, and she sat, her eyes flashing gold. The walls were suddenly encased in a sparkling gold protection, soundproofing the room. She tilted her head at the door. “They’re still out there.” Hands primly folded on her lap, she stared. “Your tubes were magically tied.”

I stared back. “Yes, they are, so how the hell did this happen?”

Her lips pinched. “During your exam, I took a few shots of them to study during the wait. What I found was that they have grown back together.” She paused. “The likely reason for this is that you didn’t wait the recommended period after the procedure for intercourse.”

A slow blink. “Recommended period?”

“The surgeon didn’t tell you?”

My eyes closed as I shook my head. The surgeon hadn’t known what he had even done because of the spell, therefore he wouldn’t have known what instructions to give me. “How long should I have waited?”

“At least three days,” she murmured absently. “The spell was there, but broken.”

Opening my eyes, I met her dumbfounded gaze. “I didn’t wait three days.” This situation was no one’s fault, and it made it even worse having no one to blame. “Can you correct the procedure? Fix where my tubes have reconnected?”

Her face went blank. “You still want your tubes tied?”

The answer was easy. “Yes. I’m not ready for children.” What was no longer clear was if I would ever want to have children in the future. But I never wanted the possibility of creating one of those Beasts with a Com. My tubes needed to be tied.

“You’ve just gone through a traumatic event, perhaps you should—”

“She said she wants it,” Ezra stated gruffly, cutting her off. “Can you do it or not?”

A deep breath. “Yes, I can do it.”

“Confidentially? Or do I need to have a spell put on you?” I scented the air, waiting for her response.

Her eyes narrowed. “Confidentially, of course. I never disclose information about my patients.” Truth.

“Good.” I rolled, pulling the blanket up higher on my shoulder. “I want it done today.”

An extended pause. “Okay, Ms Ruckler.” She cleared her throat. “To reiterate: you should not have sex, or do any extraneous activity, within the next three days.” She made an odd noise in her throat. “Also, the procedure can be reversed once you decide you’re ready for children.” She stood by the door, her hand on the doorknob. “I’ll be back in less than an hour to begin.”

The next three days were a blur in wretched time.

My best friends stayed with me during my stint in the medical ward, in which I spent a full day after my procedure. Bindi told everyone who came to see me — none of whom I allowed into my room as I was in no mood to talk with anyone — that I was recovering. She left it at that, letting them make their own assumption that I was recovering from miscarrying.




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