RECLAIMING HIS ONCE REJECTED MATE

Chapter 009

Chapter 009

Emilia's POV

The world shifting so drastically surprised me. One minute it's just another day; the next everything I knew about my place in this world breaks in a way that takes the air from my lungs.

In front of me, the television came to life. Standing tall at the centre of the Nightwolf Pack's property, Maximilian had a colder-than-I've-ever-seen expression. Dark and stormy, his eyes slid across the camera like daggers. His remarks did not help me to grasp what he was trying to communicate. Clear in every muscle of his body, the wrath was there. He designated us as traitors, not only myself. He made it very plain that Lena had chosen exile.

Every accusation he dropped from his mouth sank farther down the pit of my stomach as I could sense the weight of his words slamming into me like waves. He spoke loudly, almost as if he was trying to reach everyone.

Then he said it, as though the heavens itself could not contain its wrath any more. Lena was his selected mate, he said. As he made it official—a proclamation that would alter everything—his face wrenched.

I don’t even know why I felt this chilly shiver rush through me at the sight of him. That was something else, not terror. It felt heavier and deeper, as if I could sense every promise of suffering he had ever offered me creeping back up my spine.

Nikolas trailed behind me, his weight like a shield, strong and motionless. Though he said nothing, I could sense him there, waiting for the worst. The tension in his body, his tall posture, and the protectiveness clinging to every inch of him werealmost audible in my ear.

His little but firm hand rested lightly on my shoulder, suggesting perhaps, just maybe, I wasn't totally alone in this. This was no longer the case.

Whispering more to myself than anybody else, "I never wanted this." The words were empty, useless—just a means of relieving pressure in my chest.

Nikolas did not respond, but I did not need him to. His fingers tightened just a little, a wordless guarantee I wouldn't be travelling without him.

The broadcast went on, but my attention was beginning to waver. The agony that had been a steady, far-off throb now surged across me, cutting fiercely. I became unable to overlook it any more. My palm instantly went to my stomach, pressing against the tightness there, and I felt a rapid surge of warmth that seemed unusual.

Under my breath, "No, not now."

But nowadays, it was no decision at all. My breath caught in my throat as the agony blossomed once more, sharper this time. It was occurring. Too premature. I have not felt ready.

Nikolas was right by my side, his eyes wide with uncertainty mixed with concern. "Emilia," he murmured, his voice lacking something I couldn't exactly identify. Maybe anxiety. But there also flickered something else— something darker. His hands were on me before I could even respond, steadying me. "What's happening??"

"I—I cannot... I gasped, feeling the pressure inside me expand. Too soon is what we are dealing with. My water broke. Oh God.

He stopped, his eyes darting down to my big tummy before connecting once again. "Are you—??"

The agony struck once more, fierce and merciless, and my breath seized. I wasn't even sure if I could respond to him. The planet was closing in on nothing, save the agony and horror chewing at my insides.

Nikolas replied, his voice no longer steady but frantic, full of panic: "We need to get you to the infirmary now." I shook my head, holding the edge of the table for support when he came to grab me.

I coughed, the pain almost unbearable. "I can't," I said. We are discussing the issue of premature birth. The infant—"[

But he was already getting me upright, his hold strong around my waist as he led me towards the door. "Emilia, don't argue with me on this. You have need of assistance.

Though my legs felt weak under me, I pushed myself to stand, one hand on his chest and the other still pressing into my tummy. I could not concentrate on anything else except the developing anguish that threatened to separate me.

I felt the frigid breeze sweep about me as I emerged outside, but it offered no respite. All I could think about was the baby; my head whirled with ideas I could not grasp. My infant. My infant arrived both prematurely and swiftly.

"We'll make it," Nikolas murmured, his voice low but firm. Emilia, stay with me. Just Breathe.

I nodded, attempting to force my breath to equalise, but it proved difficult. Every sensation seemed to be whirling out of control. I could not go back; my water had burst.

But I heard it later on. The distant howl sent a chill down my spine. The howl, akin to the call to war for the pack, served as a warning to all.

"Nikolas," I said, panic starting in my throat. "What was that??"

He didn't respond. As he pushed me faster, his hold on me tightened; I could sense something was amiss in his eyes. Something is approaching.

When we arrived at the clearing, I could hardly keep my feet under me. The cries got louder and nearer, and I couldn't get rid of the sense that something terrible was closing in. Then I could see them far away.

Dark figures not belonging to them walked between the trees and shadows.

"Nikolas, what's going on?" Despite the escalating terror in his eyes, my voice remained barely audible.

"It's them," he answered, his voice gloomy and austere. "They are The Nightwolf Pack's adversaries." For us, they have arrived.

The shiver that passed through me was uncontrollable. Not now. This is not a time when I am at my most vulnerable.

The ground underfoot seemed to be shifting, as though the earth was tilting overall. Again my breath stopped, and the agony grew intolerable.

Nikolas replied, "Emilia, stay with me," his voice sharp with urgency. He was attempting to keep me stable, but I sensed my body failing me.

And then it struck once more, more powerfully than ever, and I knew. The baby was on her way. One could not run from it.

Desperate, Nikolas implored, "Emilia, we need to go now." His eyes swept the horizon. But I found myself unable to move. The floor seemed to hold my feet in place.

Then the wail returned, louder and more horrible than it had ever been.

"Emilia!" Nikolas cried out, but everything felt as though it was moving slowly, and my vision was beginning to fade.

Are we going to survive? Could I make it through this?

Once more , agony flashed, and I moaned, falling forward.

Was it too late to flee? What threat was on the horizon?