– Chapter 189

Sophie

“Should we tell her?” I ask Drake, unsure whether telling Lila that her parents will be gone even longer than we feared can do any good. We certainly can’t tell her that they’ve been captured: that Bastien is Blaise’s prisoner, Selene his slave and her younger sibling bound for death.

“We have to tell her something.” Drake sighs, “she’s expecting them to come for her any day.”

“She’s three and a half.” I remind him, “she doesn’t know what day it is or how long they’ve been gone.”

“Maybe not, but she asks for them every day.” Drake counters, “I don’t want to lie to her – not completely anyway.”

“I know.” I agree, “but where do we draw the line? If we tell her they’re going to be gone longer she’ll want to know how much longer – we can’t very well tell her they might not come back at all. She’s already having nightmares.”

“I just want to prepare her.” Drake scrubs a hand over his rugged features, “setting expectations is important and if we don’t she’s going to get her hopes up more and more… it’ll make it that much harder if things don’t turn out the way she wants.”

“She’s too young.” I insist. “Her hopes are going to be up no matter what.”

“Sophie, if the worst happens…” Drake begins, sounding as though he doesn’t want to finish his thought but knows he doesn’t have a choice, “she’ll be ours. I promised Bastien and Selene both.” He grimaces, “I can’t bear the thought of losing them, or Lila growing up without them – but if she does we’ll be her parents. She has to trust us, we can’t start out that relationship on a lie.”

“You sound like you think their fate is already decided.” I murmur, wrapping my arms around myself protectively.

“Blaise is the most powerful Alpha the continent has ever known.” He states simply. “It might be one thing if Bastien was free or Selene was able to use her powers, but as long as Blaise can leverage them against each other… the chances of them escaping him are beyond low, Sophie.” Drake admits, “they’re practically nonexistent.”

“Okay.” I answer shakily, the pressures of potential parenthood suddenly landing on my shoulders with crushing weight. “We’ll tell her some of what’s happening, but I draw the line at telling her they might not come back.”

“Agreed.” Drake confirms, squeezing my hand and leading me back out into the kitchen.

Lila is still seated at the table, scarfing down a waffle with her chubby little fingers. She looks up happily when we enter, grinning widely. “Can I has another waffles?” She requests, even though there’s still half of one on her plate.

“If you finish that one, first.” I confirm.

“Yum,” she says simply, chomping into the confection. She chews thoughtfully and studies our tense expressions. I can see the question on her tongue before she asks it – it’s the same question she asks every morning. “Are Mommy ‘n’ Daddy coming home t’day?”

“No little one.” Drake answers gently, the same way he has every day for the last two weeks. “Not today.”

“When?” Lila presses, pausing her breakfast so she can hear this important information.

“Lila, you remember how we’ve been saying they might come home any day now?” I ask, suddenly regretting our prior optimism.

“Uh-huh.” Lila replies simply, cocking her head to the side.

“Well, something’s happened, and they’re going to be gone longer than we expected.” Drake explains.

“Wha’ happened?” Lila inquires curiously, setting down her waffle.

“They’ve gotten a little lost.” I answer, deciding this is better than telling her they’re a madman’s prisoner. “So they won’t be home today, or tomorrow, or even the next day.”

“The truth, sweetheart, is that they probably won’t be home for a few weeks at least.” Drake adds reluctantly.

“Weeks?” Lila repeats, horrified. “But that’s for ever!”

“I know it seems like a long time.” I sympathize, “but it’ll pass in no time, you’ll see.”

Lila’s plump lower lip begins to tremble, her eyes going so wide I suspect they would be watering even if her emotions weren’t beginning to spill over, “they not coming back, are dey?”

Pain lances through my chest, and I immediately reach for the little girl. “Listen to me Lila. You are the most important thing in the world to your Mommy and Daddy. They’re doing everything they can to come home to you, and they’re not going to ever give up.” I tell her. “Sometimes things are out of our control, and they can’t help the things keeping them away, but I promise you, they are working very hard to get back to you.”

“That’s right.” Drake concurs, drawing Lila’s distraught gaze and making her the only promise either of us could offer the little girl. “As long as it’s in their power to return, they will.”

_________________

Selene

Three Weeks Later

“Hello, my beauty.” Blaise greets me with a terrible leer, entering my bedroom with the overconfident swagger he’s approached me with every night this week.

“Alpha.” I greet him coolly, sitting up in my bed and watching as he draws closer with a fresh wave of unease. I’ve been able to fend him off every time he’s attempted to lay a hand on me so far, but I never cease feeling nervous about it. I’m not as confident in my powers as I’d like to be, but then again I suppose the fear helps drive me to succeed.

“How are you feeling tonight?” He asks, not fooling me one bit. Blaise doesn’t give a damn how I feel. He wants to know that I’m putting on weight and progressing healthily in my pregnancy for the sake of his future sacrifice, but beyond that it wouldn’t matter to him if I were ecstatic or miserable.

“I’m fine.” I reply simply, “the doctor says I’m doing very well.”

“I know.” He grins malevolently, “he even said you’ve begun to feel movement.”

“Yes,” I confirm, trying to resist the urge to flinch away from him when he sits on the edge of my bed. “Just flutters so far, but I expect they’ll be kicking soon.”

“That’s wonderful.” He declares, placing his hand on my thigh. The feel of his touch makes my skin crawl, but I have to let him think he’s winning. I have to let him think that the fantasies I’ve placed in his mind are real.

As he stares into my eyes, I breathe deeply, working to achieve the meditative state necessary for me to invade his thoughts. My two-toned irises do half the work for me, drawing him in and capturing his attention, but they aren’t enough on their own. I have to attain the zen calm to bewitch him completely, drawing on the moon’s power to overwhelm him.

The few times Blaise has visited me during the day have proven much harder to practice my hypnosis, and I’m grateful he mostly seeks to slake his lust at night. I do it all without saying a word, subliminally pulling his consciousness towards my own and smothering the unpleasant sensation of connecting with such a heartless being.

As soon as Blaise is locked in on me and his mind in my grasp, I begin sending images to his wretched brain, making him believe his fantasies about rutting me are coming true. It is not nearly the violation of having him force himself on me – far from it – but it still feels like an assault to imagine them for the sake of fooling him. Every frame I picture makes me feel sick to my stomach, especially since he seems to want to degrade, demean and humiliate me at every turn.

He’s a truly sick man, and his sexual tastes are no different. I’m at once relieved beyond belief to escape his abuse, and scarred by the knowledge of what he would be doing to me if he had his way. Some nights the work lasts longer than others – I suppose it depends on Blaise’s energy and desires – but the evenings always end the same way. I use the last of my power to send Blaise back to his own bed overflowing with pride, convinced he’s used me up and spit me out, that I’ve fulfilled his every imagining.

That part is the hardest. Holding him in my thrall when he’s in front of me is one thing, keeping it up once he’s out of the room never ceases to exhaust me, and I’m genuinely afraid that one day he’ll have more energy than I’ll have power. I have nightmares where he turns back halfway to his rooms and decides to return for a second round – when I’m too weak to hypnotize him again.

So far those fears have remained in my dreams, but I can’t help but think it’s only a matter of time. The further my pregnancy progresses, the less strength I possess. One day soon my luck or my strength is going to run out, and I have to escape before that happens – or suffer the worst.