Chapter 47: Chapter 47

MYRA

Myra moved over in the bed to let Sloan snuggle in next to her. Everything about the situation felt surreal. She’d truly missed his warmth and his solid body cuddling against hers.

If this was a dream, she had no intention of waking up. She burrowed her head into his chest, inhaling his scent while allowing the steady beating of his heart to lull her to contentment.

“So much has happened. I don’t know where to start,” Sloan mumbled, tightening his hold on her. “Oh, I know where.”

He reached over and pressed a button. Immediately a nurse entered the room.

“Tell Dr. Norah it’s time.”

The girl smiled, nodded, and left.

“Time for what?” Myra asked.

“You’ll see,” Sloan murmured.

She didn’t like the grumble in his voice, so she tried moving off his chest, but he held her down. After a moment, Myra stopped struggling and buried her face back into his chest while he rubbed her back.

The comforting silence gave her a moment to reflect on her ordeal, the people involved and what they did to her. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her, and she said softly, “Sloan? Did I…did I k-kill Elizabeth?”

Sloan’s entire body went rigid, and his stroking hand paused on her shoulder. His stillness told her all she needed to know.

He shifted his body and placed his hand under her chin and raised her head so that they could look at each other in the eyes.

“No, you didn’t.”

Though his words provided a bit of relief, something still nagged at her, but she shrugged it off. “Oh, so she’s locked away in a more secure facility?”

“Um… I should rephrase my official answer. ~You~ didn’t kill Elizabeth. Skye did.”

Myra felt all the color and blood drain from her face as the locked-away memory of that event played in her head…

…From being shot to Elizabeth teasing her about them dying together so that Sloan would have no mate, and then her…and then ~she~…

Bile rose from her stomach.

She quickly twisted her body away from Sloan, and her empty stomach tried evacuating itself onto the coverlet. Sloan rubbed between her shoulder blades, whispering soft endearments to her as she continued to gag on nothing.

Once her stomach settled, she wiped her lips with a clean edge of the covers and spoke up. “But she and I are the same.”

Sloan poured out some water and handed it to Myra. She took small sips while he busied himself removing the soiled covers and placing them on the ground near the foot of the bed.

“While I wished you never had to experience such an ordeal, Elizabeth, in her stupid, twisted mind, thought that completing the challenge would automatically make her my mate.”

He explained as he stuck his head out of the door and stopped a passing nurse, asking for new covers and a hospital gown. She quickly brought in what was asked for, helped Myra change her gown, and fitted the covers around her.

Once Myra was settled, the nurse removed all the soiled items and left Sloan and Myra alone.

Sloan sat down on the edge of the bed and gently caressed her face. “But, unknown to Elizabeth, you are my one true mate and my luna.”

“Don’t you mean your omega?”

“Lots to talk about. But first, Dr. Norah has something to show us,” he answered as the doors reopened and the elderly doctor walked in with a different nurse wheeling in a machine.

“How are you feeling, Luna?” Dr. Norah asked while assessing her IV drip as the nurse set up the machine near the bed.

Myra frowned as she looked between Sloan and Dr. Norah. Why were they calling her Luna all of a sudden? Sloan helped her lay down flat as the doctor continued her assessment of Myra’s wounds.

A smiling Dr. Norah rolled down Myra’s coverlets and pulled up her hospital gown, exposing her stomach.

“This may be a bit cold,” she warned, squeezing a clear gel onto Myra’s stomach. She then placed a wand-like device on her belly and spread the gel around.

A loud continuous sound filled the room, and it finally clicked for Myra what was happening and what she was hearing.

She whipped her shocked face to Sloan, who quickly kissed her forehead again before her attention returned to the doctor.

Though Myra was listening to the strong rapid heartbeat coming through the speakers, she couldn’t believe it.

“And there’s your pup,” the doctor excitedly exclaimed, turning the screen more toward them.

Tears immediately flowed down Myra’s cheek as she gazed at the screen. Dr. Norah highlighted and labeled different parts on the screen, making it easier for them to see and understand.

~Hello, little one. It’s wonderful to see you. I can’t wait to hold you~, Myra thought, smiling brightly through her tears, then she stopped.

“Wait, you knew?!” she gasped, turning back to Sloan, but the dreamy expression on his face and the tears that rolled down his cheeks instantaneously shooed away her anger.

“We did that.” He was amazed, kissing the top of her head.

“Yes, we did,” Myra agreed. Small black spots danced across her vision, but she shook the feeling away.

“And I only heard the fetal heartbeat before. I didn’t want to look at the screen without you. I wanted us to share in this moment, together,” he explained.

Myra didn’t think her heart could possibly love him any more than it already did, but when he made sweet statements like that, she just loved him more.

She caressed her flat, gel-covered stomach, and her fingers brushed against the bandages as more black spots danced across her vision. She paused and remembered her entire ordeal.

Her breathing suddenly changed, and her heartbeat thundered over the baby’s heartbeat through the ultrasound speakers.

“Oh, hey, hey, don’t panic. Most new expectant mothers tend to get overwhelmed by the initial emotions,” Dr. Norah said, rubbing Myra’s leg to comfort her, but her words and actions held little sway in lowering Myra’s anxiety.

Sloan grabbed her face and gazed into her eyes, but she couldn’t focus. The black spots were clouding her vision. It all came rushing back to her: the beatings, the endless injections of chemicals into her body.

Hell, she was even shot.

Suddenly it occurred to her:

This was all a dream.

A sick, realistic, hopeless dream.

She was dead.

Elizabeth had successfully killed her, and she was lying in a pool of her own blood back in the arena. Dead next to…next to Leanne!

“Oh no! Leanne!” she gasped as a loud alarm started blaring and people started rushing into her room.

Sloan pulled away from her blurring sight, but his words were the last thing she heard before she surrendered to the darkness. “I’m right here, Myra. Right here, angel.”

***

The dark void didn’t last long. Soon she felt weightless, suspended in nothingness, like floating in a heavy salt bath.

There were no particular shapes, sounds, or objects. There was absolutely nothing for that matter, just barrenness.

Skye’s teasing voice giggled at her. ~“You’re quite the panicky one, aren’t you?”~

“Well, I’m glad one of us finds my pain and discomfort amusing,” Myra snapped at her, but she couldn’t move her limbs. Her eyes roamed around, looking for her furry pain in the ass.

“How can our subconscious be so cruel? Am I being punished for some unknown reason?”

Her emotions were still all over the place. The joy she’d experienced hearing their pup’s heartbeat seemed like a bad joke.

The feeling of lying once again in Sloan’s arms, basking in his warmth and shivering from his light touches, was like a horrible punchline.

~“Are you done? Because all of this, right now, is in your anxious head,”~ Skye calmly stated in a monotone voice, sounding very annoyed with Myra.

“Well, I’m glad one of us believes in rainbows and shit. We died. We’re DEAD!” Myra screamed at her, but Skye only giggled and made a tsking sound.

~“Wake the fuck up, princess. We’re not dead. You, crazy woman, blacked out on poor Sloan.”~

Myra tried to interpret her reasoning, but she couldn’t understand it as a reality.

“If I’m not dead, how are we having a conversation? Animal spirits and their human counterparts don’t verbally speak. We just understand each other’s emotions.”

Skye paused for a moment before answering her. ~“I’ll let him explain.”~

“Let who explain?” Myra asked when a familiar warmth and scent washed over her.

~“Angel?”~

“Sloan?” Myra quizzed the strange yet arousing voice that should belong to Sloan but was deeper and somewhat darker. Skye retreated with a giggle.

~“I’m an extension of him, so yes. The last time we spoke, it was brief. My name is Alpha, and I’m Sloan’s lycan spirit,”~ he explained.

His voice caused a tingle to run through her body, but his words further confused Myra.

“Huh?”

~“In a nutshell, the love and bond between you and Sloan differ from that of other fated mates. Your animal spirits—a.k.a., Skye and myself—are fated spirits destined to always find each other.~

~“The link between us was fragile at first, but once you—our human counterparts—claimed each other, you underwent a hybrid shift,”~ he explained.

“What kind of hybrid shift?”

~“Usually, it’s subtle. That is, you’ll heal quicker, run faster, hear and see more clearly, and be able to communicate with us as you can now.”~

He continued explaining, ~“But the rogue attacks brought on a more rapid and deeper change, which was solidified by the conception of our pup.”~

He lovingly sighed at the thought. ~“You wondered why Dr. Norah called you Luna. It’s due to your status as a lycanthrope’s mate. You’re a luna.”~

The more he explained, the more she understood that letting herself go completely mental was laughable. “So I’m not dead?”

~“Nope, but you passing out on Sloan has only heightened his worry, so do us both a favor and wake up, please.”~

After accepting that she was being unreasonable, Myra felt herself being propelled back into consciousness.

She opened her eyes to gaze into a pair of anxious gray ones. Relief washed over his face, and he quickly kissed her twice on the lips, then once on her nose, and rested his forehead against hers.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m here with you every step of the way,” Sloan confessed, mistaking her blackout for worry about the baby.

“I swear it’s not the baby. For a moment, my mind snapped, and I thought I…I had died, and that this joyous moment was my subconsciousness playing a nasty trick on me,” she enlightened him through tears and hiccups.

Further relief shone on his face, and he squeezed her arm in a comforting manner. “You are very much alive. If you weren’t recovering, I’d thoroughly show you how alive you are.”

He smirked, arching a suggestive eyebrow, which made Myra blush brightly. At the same time, Dr. Norah coughed discreetly to remind them of her presence in the room.

Sloan smiled and winked at Myra before removing his forehead from hers, sat down on the bed next to her, and addressed Dr. Norah.

“So, Doc, I’m concerned about all the chemicals and drugs they put into her system. Will the baby be affected by this?”

Myra worried her lower lip between her teeth, waiting to hear what the doctor would say.

Dr. Norah smiled.

“We did an initial toxicology screening back at the coven’s hospital, and it showed that your luna blood was eliminating all foreign antigens in your body. I can run another test to see if there’s anything to be concerned about.”

“Please do. I don’t want any other surprises relating to this baby,” Myra requested, putting her hand back on her tummy.

The nurse, who was silently waiting for instructions, gathered the necessary needles and vials for the blood samples.

Myra had never been affected by needles, but her experiences with the rogues brought out an irrational fear of them in her. To combat her new fear, Myra turned to Sloan to distract herself.

“How is Leanne? Please tell me you got to her in time.”

Sloan scratched the back of his neck and nodded hesitantly.

“She’s in for a long recovery, but she hasn’t regained consciousness yet. Like you, she lost a lot of blood.

“The medics on site had to restart her heart, and then she coded once at the scene and twice on the operating table. Fortunately, they got her stable enough to move her here for observation.”

“I’d like to see her,” Myra said, feeling more alert after her blackout. “She was so angry with her piece-of-shit brother. I hope you gave him a proper ass-kicking.”

Sloan guiltily glanced away and continued to scratch the back of his neck, this time nervously.

“What?”

“Sweetheart, he’s dead,” he confessed. “But I don’t want to talk about him just yet.”

“Alpha explained everything to me,” she cut him off, and Sloan looked taken aback, then frowned.

“Fucking asshole,” Sloan grumbled. “He couldn’t even let me explain this to you.”

Myra smiled. “He sounded hot.”

“Hey!” Sloan complained, but he saw her biting back her smile. “Well, did he tell you about your status as luna?”

And she nodded.

“Did he tell you about our link to our hybrid animal spirits?”

She nodded again, smiling at his disappointed and flustered expression.

“And that we’re basically creature royalty now, and the elders are looking to re-establish the lycan king rule.”

“The what?”

He smiled brightly and punched the air in celebration.

“It’s an ancient rule that was around during the period of the lycanthropes, but it got abandoned when there were fewer and fewer lycans. The elders always held on to the hope that another would come to be, a.k.a. Alpha.”

“What does that mean for the pack?” Myra wondered, pulling her legs up, wincing in the process, then hugging them.

“I’ll have to hand over my authority as alpha and step down from the company, because being head of the creature community will be a twenty-four-seven job.” Sloan shrugged.

“So you’ve already accepted it?”

“Reluctantly, yes, but officially, no. I wanted to discuss it with you. We are, after all, a team.”

Myra pinched the bridge of her nose, absorbing this new information. She sighed and looked at him.

“Funny, I’d planned to discuss possibly opening a creature-only school with you, but this changes everything,” she confessed.

Sloan’s eyes lit up, and he shifted his body to stare at her properly. “You want to open a school?”

“Yes. A safe environment where shifters and creatures can learn fundamental educational information paired with otherworldly knowledge and history,” she excitedly explained, but she knew it was no longer possible.

“As king, I can make that happen,” Sloan said cockily.

She shook her head and smiled politely. “But as your luna, I can’t oversee it.”

“Why not?” He frowned, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand.

“Because I’ll be busy helping you. And when the baby comes, they’ll need me as well. I don’t think I could stretch myself that thin.”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I understand, but let’s not completely dismiss the idea”—he kissed the tip of her nose—“because I think it’s brilliant.”

He then kissed her lips. She giggled against his. She was so glad to be back home.