Page 35 of Trapped By the Cartel

"You haven't touched your books in weeks," I pointed out softly. "And you barely eat anything anymore."

He sighed, a weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world. "I just… haven't felt like it."

My heart clenched with a familiar pang of guilt. I knew I hadn't been as present as he deserved. The pack demanded my attention, and I'd prioritized my responsibilities over our relationship, telling myself I was doing it for us, for Stellan's future. A terrible excuse.

"I'm sorry, Elliot," I murmured, squeezing his hand gently. "I know I haven't been around much. Things have been… complicated."

He finally met my gaze, and I saw a flicker of something raw and vulnerable in his eyes. "It's more than that, Damon," he said softly, his voice trembling slightly. "It feels like we're drifting apart. Like… like we're just going through the motions."

My blood ran cold. That was the last thing I wanted. The thought of losing him—of losing what we had built together—was unbearable. I wasn't going to let it happen. I couldn't.

"That's not true," I insisted, leaning closer and brushing a stray curl away from his forehead. "We're just… adjusting. To the baby, to the new house, to everything."

He shook his head slowly, a sad smile playing on his lips. "It's deeper than that, Damon. It's like… you see me as your omega, as the vessel carrying our child. You don't really see me anymore. The Elliot Hayes who loved obscure languages and had a sarcastic wit?"

My throat tightened. He was right. Somewhere along the line, I'd allowed him to become defined by his omega status, by the life he carried within him. I'd been so focused on protecting him, on ensuring his well-being, that I'd forgotten to simply see him. To appreciate the unique and wonderful individual he was.

It was difficult to admit that I had let that happen. I should've been stronger.

"That's not fair," I protested weakly, knowing even as I said it that he was speaking the truth. He would never lie about something like that, after all.

He didn't respond, simply continued to gaze at me with those heartbreakingly sad hazel eyes. In that moment, I saw a reflection of my own failings—my ambition, my possessiveness, my inability to truly balance my responsibilities with the needs of those I loved.

"I need you to be present, Damon," he said finally. "Not just physically, but… emotionally. I need you to see me. To hear me. To remember that I'm more than just an omega carrying your child."

And I knew he was. I didn't have to prove that to him, but I knew that he was right about what he was saying.

The rain continued to fall against the windowpane, each drop a poignant reminder of the distance that had grown between us. The scent of lavender and chamomile, once so calming, now felt suffocating—a constant reminder of the peace that was slowly slipping away from our lives.

I reached out and pulled him close, burying my face in his soft hair. "I will," I promised. "I'll do better, Elliot. I promise. I'll make you see that I do."

The words were still hanging in the air, my promise a fragile thread against the backdrop of our strained silence, when a searing pain ripped through Elliot. He gasped, his body arching violently as he clutched at his abdomen, his knuckles white against the plush fabric of the sofa.

"Damon!" he cried out. "Something's… something's wrong!"

My heart lurched into my throat. Those were the words I'd dreaded. Labor. I wasn't ready for it, even though it was about the right time.

"Elliot! What is it? What's happening?" I scrambled to my feet, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Another wave of pain convulsed through him, sharper, more insistent than the last. His face contorted in a grimace, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Contractions," he gasped, struggling to breathe. "They're coming… really fast."

I rushed to his side, kneeling before him and taking his trembling hands in mine. I was going to do whatever was possible to make him feel better and help him.

"Okay, okay, breathe with me. Slow, deep breaths." I tried to project a calm I certainly didn't feel, my mind racing as I calculated the distance to the nearest hospital. It was too far. We wouldn't make it in time.

Then, a frantic banging echoed from the front door. Loud, insistent. What the fuck was happening now?

"Who's that?" Elliot whimpered, his voice barely audible above the roaring in my ears.

Before I could answer, the door burst open, and Hunter, one of my enforcers, stood there, his face etched with urgency.

"Sir! We have a situation! There's been an attack on the perimeter! The Serpents are trying to breach our territory!"

My blood ran cold. An attack? Now? With Elliot in labor? This was beyond surreal.

"Can't it wait?" I barked, trying to keep my voice level. "My omega is going into labor!"

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