Chapter 12 - Lorelei

I paced back and forth in the living room, still relishing my newfound freedom in the house. Ever since the girls had been here, Mark apparently hadn’t seen the need to lock me downstairs again, though he’d made it perfectly clear that he would have no issues doing it again if necessary.

Yet, something had shifted in the last couple of days. Not that I didn’t itch to leave anymore—I still wanted to get out of here. But I’d also realized that if I left, I wasn’t going to have any way of knowing what was happening with Inara. As much as I hated being held here, I couldn’t deny that I was in a better position to hear if the witches were making moves. If I had just gone back to my cottage, I wouldn’t have had any idea if they were coming after me again or not. I might have been able to scry, but Inara would have put up protections against it, so even that wouldn’t have given me much.

Something sounded outside, and I jumped, head whipping toward the window. But it was only a broken branch tumbling through a tree. I forced myself to relax. As much as I hated to admit it, Inara still terrified me. I’d jumped at strange sounds on more than one occasion, only to realize that it was just the wind banging against the windows. I kept imagining her appearing behind me, then dragging me back to that cell.

Still, I wondered where she and her coven were. What their new plans were, and if they still involved me. And if they did, how long until they found me and came after me again.

Except it wouldn’t even matter if they did. Because I still had no idea how to open the damn entry. Any clue I might have had would have been in the books at my cottage. I didn’t even know if they were still there, or if Inara would have taken them when she had kidnapped me.

I forced the thought away, or I tried to. My stomach churned, and I groaned, hand going to my mouth. I stumbled toward the bathroom, trying to keep down whatever was trying to force itself up.

That was another problem. The last handful of days, I kept getting sick. The strangest foods seemed to make my stomach flip at the drop of a hat. My nerves were so frayed that I couldn’t keep anything down, not even crackers or bread. I had kept it from Mark because I knew that he would start worrying himself sick if he found out. He had enough to deal with, and I didn’t want him coddling me any longer.

After I was finished, I sat back from the toilet, leaning my head against the wall as I panted. I closed my eyes as sweat prickled my brow. What on earth was going on with me? I never got sick like this. Maybe it had something to do with my period?

Wait…

I stiffened as realization slammed into me. Oh, god. There was no way. Was there? It had only happened the one time.

I ran the calculations in my mind, trying to remember the last time I’d had my period. It had been right before Inara had kidnapped me.

Which meant…

My heart jackhammered. I stumbled backward, hand clutching my stomach. My mind spun with panic and shock.

I was pregnant. With Mark’s baby.

I tried to tell myself I was wrong. It wasn’t as though I had a pregnancy test to confirm. Except I didn’t need one. Now that I was thinking of it, I could feel it. I knew it deep in my bones.

A dozen questions ran through my mind. Would the baby be a shifter or a witch? Both? How would the birth go? What would happen if Inara found out?

Except all those questions were dwarfed by another, far more pressing one. What would Mark do when he found out?

If he kept me here, he would have to find out eventually, though I had no idea how I was going to tell him. But the more important and more terrifying unknown was how he would react. He had never seemed like the father type.

I chewed my lip, pacing back and forth as I ran my fingers through my hair. I knew he was trying to show me he had changed. I knew he was trying to tamp down on some of his more controlling, possessive tendencies. But me getting pregnant altered everything.

Even if Mark had changed, if I decided to stay, what would happen in a year? Or five? I’d known him for all of a few weeks now. He could go back to his old ways. I didn’t want to subject a baby to that.

The two most likely outcomes I could see were that he found out about the baby and kicked us both out, which would be in line with the guy I knew when we were kids; or he would become even more protective and never let me or the baby out of the house ever again. Between the two of them, the second might honestly have been worse.

The question was, did I trust Mark? The problem was, I didn’t know the answer. I had started trusting him despite myself. I had let him in more than I had expected, and he and I had actually been getting along lately, having dinner and watching movies, sometimes talking late into the night. I wanted to trust him, but I wasn’t sure I was there yet. The image of Mark dumping all my belongings into the bog kept resurfacing, reminding me of who he used to be.

I made up my mind. I couldn’t stay here. I had to leave. If I raised the baby alone, I wouldn’t have to worry about Mark hurting or abandoning us later. I just needed to get enough of a head start.

Part of me protested, pointing out how difficult raising a baby on my own would be. But I took care of myself for years. I could take care of a child.

My mind made up, I hurried to the front door and tested it. I swore. He’d locked it from the outside somehow. So he still didn’t trust me. Granted, considering what I was currently trying to do, it suddenly made perfect sense why he wouldn’t.

I wasn’t the best witch, but I knew enough spells to get me out of here. I had promised Mark I wouldn’t, except I was breaking a lot of promises right now. One more wasn’t going to make a difference.

Closing my eyes, I uttered an incantation, forcing my will into it. Power prickled at my fingertips as they ran along the door.

I heard a click. When I tried the door again, it swung open. I took a tentative step outside, glancing around to make sure Mark hadn’t shown up. No one was around.

Some voice in the back of my mind screamed at me to think about it for another moment, to stay back. There were twinges of both longing and guilt about running away from Mark like this. Part of me wanted to stay.

I pushed the thought to the back of my mind. I had to do this.

With no intention of looking back, I hurried into the woods.