Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Tears well in the bottom of my eyes.
Get a grip, Hannah.
But no grip comes. This is my child. I can actually see the little peanut, and emotion rolls through me, nearly overwhelming me.
It’s hormones. Nothing but hormones.
The technician removes her gloves and tosses them in the wastebasket. “You can go ahead and get dressed, but I want to see you back in a week. In the meantime, I’ll check with your doctor to see what tests we should run.”
I nod. Once she’s gone, I wipe the goo from between my legs and quickly get dressed.
Rogan, where are you?
My father’s pheromone shot isn’t working nearly as well this time. Or…there is a war going.
Rogan could be…
No! I can’t go there. I can’t even think about going there. He may not be my mate, but he’s still the father of my child.
And I still love him, even though I wish I didn’t.
Whatever my father did to us became real for me.
I’ll never forgive him for manipulating Rogan and me.
He will pay.
When I leave the examination room, he’s gone.
Smart move.
16
I leave the hospital quietly, my belly still aching.
Hunger consumes me—that raw and painful hunger that only Rogan’s blood will satisfy.
And my abdomen…
Oh, God…
It’s the baby.
I thirst for Rogan’s alpha wolf blood, but I can live without it. Other blood will supply me with the nutrients my body requires...
But this isn’t just my body anymore…
This child is half wolf—half Rogan—and the vampire part of it needs his blood.
Not just wants, not just hungers for—the baby fucking needs its father’s blood.
Rogan knows I’m pregnant. He knows his child grows inside me. Why hasn’t he come for me? Even if my father’s elixir has worn off, he should still be able to scent me carrying his child.
He should want to protect us.
Is he still in the ether? Fighting this damned war?
I don’t know how to get to the ether. I don’t even fully understand it or how we’ve gotten there previously.
I return to my apartment and surf the internet for any information. Even the dark web has nothing. How could it? Humans know nothing of the ether.
My father would know, but he’s probably back there now.
And my stepfather…
He’d know. Is my mother still here in town? I need to—
“Aaauuugghhh!” I bend over, clutching my belly as an invisible knife slices into my flesh.
My fangs snap down.
Protect baby. Must protect my baby.
Blood. I’m going to need more than my usual amount of blood because another life depends on mine.
But not just any blood will do.
I need the child’s father’s blood.
Rogan, where are you?
Still clutching my abdomen, I make my way to my small kitchen and grab a bag of blood from the refrigerator. I tear it open with my canines and pour it down my throat. I swallow in gulps as it drips over my lips and down my neck, creating a sticky mess, but I don’t care. My baby needs to feed…and so do I.
My own thirst is quenched, but the aching doesn’t stop.
I force myself to stand upright.
I need to find Rogan. I need to feed our child. But my father said he’s missing. Where is he?
I pace around my small apartment, forcing my mind to think, think, think…
The ether… Rogan… How to get there…
“Please, Daddy!” I cry out loud. “Show me! Show me the way! Your grandchild depends on it!”
I look to the ceiling, waiting for some kind of portal to open.
I close my eyes…hope…pray…beg…
And when my eyes open…
Nothing.
Not a fucking thing.
No magic portal. No ether. No Rogan. And no vampire king father with a desire to help me.
I pace again. How did I get there before? I was with Rogan. He was… He was protecting me. Protecting us.
There was no portal. We just got there.
Except…there was a portal—in Rogan’s closet at his place in The London. A portal to my stepfather’s lair.
Think, Hannah, think!
I don’t want to go to the demon’s lair. No one will protect me there, but my instinct—that tingling at the back of my neck—is telling me to go there.
It’s not the ether. Or is it?
Is Rogan there?
Why else would I have the primordial urge to hop on a plane to Las Vegas, go to The London, break into Rogan’s place, and slide through that portal?
I’ve got to try. It’s the only way I know to get anywhere but this world, and my body is telling me to go.
I rush to my bathroom, wipe the sticky blood from my face. I don’t bother packing a bag. I leave my apartment, forcing myself to walk straight despite the pain surging through me, and hail a cab to take me to the airport.
17
I’m working on pure maternal instinct when I finally get to The London on the Vegas Strip. Only the child inside me forces me to continue despite the pain, despite the longing hunger.