The Lycan's Innocent Mate

9

Răzbunare: Lycan's Regret 5

Her eyelids slowly fluttered open as the hammering of a cruel headache reared it's ugly head in the midst of hers. She was vaguely aware of the soft mattress she layed on and the warmth it provided her, her head was aching but she noticed it was resting on a soft pillow. When her eyes were wide open, she felt as if the lamp's very little brightness could blind her off her sight. A small whimper escaped her mouth as she noticed whose room was this, Lysander's. Oh! No. She tried to move up but a little cramp restrained her, her head spun, the baby! Normally she would not have made such a fuss over being hurt but as of right now she had to. She had a living baby inside of her, the odds weren't in her favor either. She placed a tentative hand on her little bump. Three weeks, there should be no bump in the first place.... Her head was in a turmoil, her mind went through possibilities over why her baby was growing fast.... Of course. Werewolf pregnancies last half of a normal human pregnancy, five months maximum. When Lysander first did that, it must have been the very day she got...pregnant. He was a powerful Alpha, that much was clear and maybe that was the very reason her pregnancy was processing fastly.

She sighed and then another twist of pain hit her in her middle. Oh, Lord, why? The pain was crucial. She clutched her stomach to gain any sort of comfort, it was useless, a sharp cry left her mouth as she gasped for air. No later than fifteen seconds Lysander barged in to the room stalking towards a bed, "Avery," he said concerned, she was in too much pain to notice anything anyway. Lysander mind linked the pack doctor to only find him gone on vacation along with other doctors of his.

The worry and panic in that situation was not even worthy of being compared to the little tension of thoroughly thought of plans he made to overcome sudden attacks, in his whole life he had no reason to worry or panic or be helpless. He was undefeated for a reason. Some emotions didn't control him, some emotions never entered his lifestyle and right now they all just jumped out of nowhere. He held her to his chest as she writhed in pain, "What is wrong, tell me?" He rasped gently, his breath coming in shot urgent gasps. "Pain...." She had whimpered. "Pain? Pain....where?" He demanded trying to pry her hands off her stomach to check, when he did she let out a sigh slumping against his shoulder. "Here?" He asked hoping it was the very spot. He was rewarded with a nod as she clutched his shirt, her eyes were closed as she settled breathing heavily. He slowly stroked her stomach, afraid.... He felt the baby growing inside of her, he felt his own flesh and blood. His movements were careful as he laid back in the bed, she was calm now and he was thankful enough to let out a weary sigh.

Never had he experienced...this. Panic, concern, worry, gentleness and helplessness even! He was Lysander Tryst Black, for Gods sake but the fatherly instinct to protect what he created was too strong, his child, their child. His real mate and his own baby. He couldn't fathom loosing any one of them, he suddenly came to realise he'd be devastated, heartbroken, guilt ridden and sad. Some emotions he was very used to of. This baby was never part of the plan, the plan was to keep her little mate beside her and form her into a slave of sorts.

He had no ability of loving anyone or anything. He didn't have the luxuries to get close with someone. Not until now. For him, women were convining, wicked, heartless and selfish disasters trying to take place in a man's life, his point of view of the matter was itself dissolving God knows where. His eyes took in her rose bud like lips, heavy lashes and rosy cheeks.

Her face was flustered as if she was reveling in the after glow of heavy lovemaking. But he knew she wasn't, she had been touched twice and he had been the one to do so, he had broached through her innocence like a bastard rapist and then demanded she let him do that to her again, he had forced her twice. The guilt weigh heavy on his shoulders. In his 30 years of life, he'd never been more grief stricken. He tried to imagine if Soner hadn't told him about her pregnancy, he would have put her through much more.

He couldn't be more thankful to Soner, he couldn't. For on flicker of a second he imagined her going through a miscarriage and his wolf howled in a pain so aching he thought his heart would surely burst. He took it on himself to get rid of shirt to change her into one of his thin tees as he turned the air conditioner on, in Texas sometimes it gets way too hot and this time of the year is that very time.

He owned Creekwoods, his pack's territory was way too big and he had no problems of intruders wether humans or wether some supernatural creatures. His hands idly stroked her hair as his other hand itched to stroke her belly, his hands was in mid air when she shifted and her eyes fluttered open.

He had a idea of what was coming, something he gladly could avoid by running but he didn't run away from difficult situations. He had never but this time his mind was having a debate. Times like this he liked to confide in Ren, his tiger, or maybe Yen, his lion. Since he took the way of being a brutal murderer, those two just couldnt look into his eyes anymore.