STOLEN IN BLOOD

CHAPTER THREE: HER RETURN

ELYRIA’S POV

(THREE MONTHS LATER)

“Push!”

A scream tears through my throat as pain wraps around my spine and claws at my abdomen. Sweat trickles down my temple as my chest heaves violently.

“Again, Elyria!” Meredith urges from between my legs. “Just one more push.”

Tears blur my vision as my head shakes in refusal. “I-I can’t. I am tired.”

“Yes, you can. You are almost there! Do it!”

The contractions send me howling at the ceiling. My fingers dig into the sheets as my hair clings to my body with sweat.

“Meredith, I am f*****g dying!”

“Push, woman!”

I do with everything I have. Every muscle in my body strains as I give the final push. Like witchcraft, the pain vanishes when I hear my baby’s cry.

My breath catches as Meredith appears with my frail child in her arms. The sound of her tiny cries washes my trembling body with warmth.

“It’s a girl,” Meredith reveals, walking around the table to present her to me.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper, tears rolling down my cheeks.

“Yes, she is,” Meredith confirms, placing my baby in my arms. Her fragile body squirms in my arms as she covers her little mouth. Meredith quickly returns with a soft cream blanket to wrap her in.

“Hello, little one,” I whisper, a gentle crack in my voice. Gently, she blinks open her eyes.

My heart comes to an abrupt stop.

Crimson eyes stare up at me, confirming my greatest fear.

She really is that bastard’s.

How can someone so innocent and sweet share the blood of that monster?

Because she is mine.

“Have you chosen a name?” Meredith asks, grabbing some fresh towels to clean up the mess. It was not easy convincing her to help me give birth in her apartment. Having my baby in a hospital is far too risky.

Ever since I arrived at her front porch three months ago, we have been watching birthing videos. As much as they were traumatizing, they were beautiful.

And we did it.

My gaze drops to my baby. There is something tranquilizing about having her in my arms. She is so abundant in beauty, it’s almost magical.

That is when it hits me.

“Freya. Her name is Freya,” I declare, smiling brightly at the sleeping babe.

Meredith nods in approval. “Let me clean her up,” she says, taking Freya from my arms gently. The second she is out of my grasp, the darkness welcomes me.

(THREE DAYS LATER...)

“You must be crazy,” Meredith declares, staring at me with disbelief. I pull away from Freya’s crib, fastening the clasp of my cloak.

“I have been away from home for far too long. I need to return and see father. He must be worried sick,” I say, grabbing my duffle bag and throwing the strap over my shoulder.

“You just had your baby, Elyria. Your belly is barely deflated, and you can not take two steps without wincing,” Meredith reveals.

“I know, but my father and people need me.”

“Your daughter needs you!”

That strikes a sensitive part of me that I did not know existed. A gentle sigh leaves me. Closing the distance between Meredith and I, my hands meet her shoulders before I look her in the eye.

“I know. I am not abandoning her. I have given her the best caretaker in the world. I know you can look out for her until I get back,” I say, and Meredith kisses her teeth.

“How long do you plan on keeping her a secret? Her whole life?”

“Absolutely not. Just until I get everything sorted out. Once I am officially alpha of Silver Hollow, I can take both of you under my wing,” I explain.

“And then what? Have your people think she is mine and not yours?”

Silence.

“I need to go,” I mutter.

Meredith sighs, “I knew I couldn’t change your mind.” Straightening her back, she promises, “I will take care of her.”

A sad smile stretches my lips, “I know you will.”

Carefully, I lift Freya from her cradle and she stirs awake. Her crimson eyes settle on my face, and my vision turns blurry suddenly.

Out of everything I have been through in my life, this is by far the hardest.

Pressing my lips to her little forehead, I take out the grey stuffed wolf I had purchased for her a week ago. “This is for you. If there is ever a time you miss me, just clutch this little wolf and it would feel just like me. okay?” I say sweetly, placing the animal beside her pillow in the crib.

I hold her close, careful not to hurt her.

“I am so sorry,” I whisper, embracing her one last time before handing her over to Meredith. “I really do wish things were different.”

“You will be back soon. She will always wait for you,” Meredith encourages and I manage to wipe away my tears. A tiny voice screams at me to stay, to spend my days here by her side.

But duty claimed me long before motherhood ever did.

“I love you,” I whisper, placing one final kiss on her cheek before walking away.

Three hours later, the gates of my home stand before me. A smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I walk down the familiar road.

“Who goes there?!” Comes Gail’s gruff voice.

I pull back my hood, smiling at his familiar face.

He pales.

Folding my arms above my chest, I tease, “Forgotten me already, Gail? With that kind of memory, I should reconsider naming you head of security?”

The black bearded man stares at me as though I am a ghost. “It can’t be...” he whispers, and his colleague sways.

Since when were these men so dramatic?

Gail clears his throat, straightening his back. “Welcome, Princess Elyria,” he greets, opening the gates for me.

“It’s good to see you,” I say, stepping into the estate. Little did I know that their performance is only just the beginning.

As I step into the estate, servants freeze mid way to stare at me. I offer some smiles, others a wave. But they all stare at me like a creature resurrected from the dead.

I know I disappeared for three months, but did they really think I was dead.

I start to ignore their gaze, heading straight to the throne room. My heart thrashes against my ribcage as I prepare myself to face father. I wonder how he is now. Surely, the physicians must have found a cure for him.

Cassian Viremont would descend his throne with eyes full of worry, ready to berate me once again for my carelessness.

Just like he always did.

If only I knew how terribly wrong I was.

Because the second I step into the throne room, I do not find my father. But a man much smaller than he is, yet still very much larger than I am.

Rhaegar Viremont.

The court falls silent as our eyes lock.

I frown, ignoring the hushed whispers of the court. Slowly, I take bold steps to the foot of the podium. Rhaegar’s eyes display no shock or relief by my presence.

“Sister, you have returned,” he says, a failed attempt of a smile on his lips.

“Sitting upon the king’s throne is treason. Being his son is no excuse. You always forget yourself, brother,” I state loudly, my voice echoing across the hall.

He hikes an amused brow. “How can it be treason to sit upon my own throne?”

A snort leaves me and I look to our audience. None of them gaze upon him as the criminal. Instead, they avoid my eyes and those brave enough not to, look upon me with pity.

Something is terribly wrong.

“Where is father? I would like to speak to him,” I demand, and he lets out a sigh.

He descends his throne, towering above me like the king he knew he’s not. He breaks the news without a drop of sympathy, shattering my world like he did not give a damn.

Like it gives him joy.

“I am afraid you are two months late, sister. He is dead.”

Those words snatch the air from my lungs, blurring the earth around me.

He continues, “We searched tirelessly for you. His final moments were spent screaming for his precious little girl, the one he believed to be his wife. But she was nowhere to be found. We thought you had been killed and buried in a shallow grave. I, of course, knew that you had run away. I knew you had gotten cold feet and came to your sense that you were simply not meant to rule. And so, I was named heir and...”

The rest of his words are replaced by a loud ringing in my ears. A bomb goes off in my chest and violent pain spreads across my ribs. My hands fly to my mouth as dry coughs break out of my lips.

Suddenly, it feels as though I am being stabbed over with a ten-inch dagger over and over again. Warm, crimson liquid bursts out of my mouth and spatters across the marble floor.

Before the darkness consumes me, I hear gasps.

I hear screams.

I hear Rhaegar’s commands.

But there is only one voice I yearn to hear.

And I never will.