Page 97 of The Pregnancy Pact

“Father?”

Chapter 56

Ellax

“Caide.”

Our last meeting had been truly terrible. In my selfish drive to get what I wanted, at any cost, I had tried to steal my son’s wife for another Overlord and force my son to return to Asterion. In truth, although it felt like I’d lived a lifetime since then, mere days had passed. I’d not expected to hear from my son. Certainly not this soon.

“A friend from Asterion reached out,” Caide began. I could hear the hesitancy in his tones, as if he were unsure how he might be received. “My friend told me of what has befallen you. And your…wife.” Again, hesitancy. I supposed he was gauging what to say. “I was surprised, I admit,” Caide went on, “to hear you had taken a wife. Particularly a human wife, given—”

He stopped.

Given how cruel I had been about his human wife.

“Much has changed since last we met,” I admitted gruffly. “Marrying a human was not my intent, and yet, it happened. Learning she was my mate was not what I anticipated, and yet…”

My son chuckled. “The stars have strange ways of dealing with us, do they not?”

And through the humor in his tone, I heard forgiveness. Acceptance. He had every right to remonstrate with me, given what I had done. Instead, he chose to extend charity.

“That they do,” I agreed.

I suppose I hadn’t known the weight I carried, worrying myself over what I’d tried to do to my son and daughter-in-law. Hearing the kindness in Caide’s voice caused that particular weight to slough off my shoulders. I leaned against the wall, passing a hand over my face to hide the emotions that were surely showing, grateful no onlookers were nearby to see me wrestling with my feelings.

“Father,” Caide went on, “how is your wife? Stars, it feels strange to say that. I heard she was injured. Will she live?”

More emotion welled up. For a brief second, I was tempted to pour out my heart to my offspring. Confess my terror that Lorelai would not live; my guilt over leaving her alone, vulnerable to Sirena’s atrocities.

No. The emotions were too raw. Instead, tamping down on the feelings, I said roughly, “Only the stars know.”

“I see.” Gently, Caide added, “Delle and I wish her the best. And you, Father. Will you let me know what comes of this?”

My throat tightened once more at this unprecedented act of charity. Inquiring over my wife’s welfare. Asking for updates on her health.

“I will,” I answered. “Thank you, Caide.”

“Be strong, Father,” he said. “The stars guide you.”

“Thank you,” I said. “And you, my son.” Before I could stop myself, I added, “As soon as I have time, when I know how my wife’s health will be, I will keep my word and put in a good word for your wife. I’ve not forgotten my promise to help her into architect school.”

Caide knew the pledge, coming unasked from me, was my way of making amends for what I had done. Graciously, he said, “I accept, Father. We accept. But…care for your wife, first. That matters most. We are in no rush.”

I opened my mouth to thank him. As I did, I caught a flash of movement at the end of the corridor. The double doors were opening. News about Lorelai?

“My gratitude, Caide. Now I must go,” I said quickly, ending the call. I slipped the device into my pocket even as I jogged towards the orderly garbed in a dark red pantsuit, wiping her hands with a towel.

“Have you news of my wife?” I demanded, drawing to a stop in front of her. “Will she live?”

“She will live,” the orderly answered. Despite the good news, the best of news, her face remained grim. “You may visit her, Elder. However, I should warn you….”

I heard nothing else. A detached part of my brain, the part that understood the importance of negotiations and contracts and heeding the smallest of details, knew that I ought to stay and listen. That sensible part was overridden by the male who wanted nothing more than to reach his mate. I pushed past the orderly, deaf to her cries of, “Elder! Elder!” and rushed into the ward. My gaze scanned my surroundings as I hastened inside, glancing about desperately to determine which room my Lorelai was in. I saw more personnel in tidy scrubs, blinking machines pushed up against walls, a desk behind which sat several female clinic employees, and, at the far end of the corridor, a curtained off space around which was a hive of activity.

“Elder Pendorgrin!” The orderly had followed me inside. “You may see your wife, but I ought to warn you…”

I did not listen. She was alive. She would live. What else mattered?

My feet pounded towards the room. Instinctively, workers gave way, allowing me inside the small space. Machines were beeping, whooshing, blinking. Tubes and wires were attached to the small figure on the bed. Her pale, human skin blended with the whiteness of the sheets, except for the bruises on her face, which stood out in marked comparison. My heart twisted in half over those ugly marks and how vulnerable she appeared.

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