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55. Chapter 55

Chapter 55

L ayla bit the blanket and clutched the bedding through another contraction. Tears fell unchecked down her cheeks. She'd endured hours of the pain, and now it was almost continuous.

But the labour pain was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.

The pack had returned from the woods without Jackson with nothing but lies on their lips. Dylan said Jackson would be with her as soon as he could, but where was he? If he was okay, why could she sense all that despair in the air? Why had Faith been crying? And why had they called more people from the pack to gather in the back garden?

"You're doing very well, Layla. Just a little bit more," the doctor urged.

He had his protective equipment on and settled at the foot of her bed. She'd been hooked to a machine to monitor her and the baby.

It seemed Jackson had indeed been prepared for the child to be born in the middle of nowhere. She had assumed she would be taken to a hospital when her labour started, but the moment Faith had burst into the room and found her on the floor with her water broken, she had called the doctor and started preparing all the equipment as if she had been trained for it. She had even pulled out an incubator from somewhere and set her up in the biggest bedroom.

Another contraction hit her before she had even caught her breath.

"Push, Miss Layla," Faith whispered.

The girl hadn't left her side even with all the commotion outside. She held her hand, wiped her forehead, and offered her sips of water. She did everything that Jackson would have done if they had been in a proper relationship.

If he had been alive.

A sob wrenched out of her as she pushed. The baby was two months early and was already in distress. The thought of losing Jackson's child was crippling. He hadn't loved her, but they had made this precious gift together. The baby was a part of him, a part of the man she would always love. She couldn't lose it, too.

"Very good. Now, this part is very important. I need you to push only when I tell you to," the doctor said. "It's almost over."

Another push. Another squeeze of Faith's hand. She followed the doctor's instructions, and not too long afterwards, she heard the tiny wail.

"It's a girl," the doctor said. "Congratulations."

Relief and joy flooded her for a moment before she remembered. And then the sobs started again in earnest.

The doctor placed the tiny girl on her heaving chest. The baby was perfect. She had the longest eyelashes and the thickest curls ever seen. And her hair was a deep red, just like hers.

She couldn't see a single feature that reminded her of Jackson.

The sobs didn't stop, even when the doctor took the baby to do all the necessary checks. But when the baby stopped crying, and she felt the doctor's anxiety rise, the sobs dried up as she sat up in bed.

"What happened?"

The doctor didn't respond. He took the baby to a station he had set up at the other side of the bedroom, and a woman he had come with opened the door. She exchanged a look with Faith before she watched them huddle over her precious child and start to work on her.

"No," she cried. "Tell me what's happening."

This couldn't happen. She couldn't lose everything.

"She's having a little trouble breathing, but we're doing everything we can," the woman answered.

It felt like hours. Someone else came in to take care of her while the doctor worked. All she could do was lie there helplessly and make every promise under the sun to bargain for her baby's life. Even if it meant someone else would raise her as long as she got to live.

Finally, the baby was placed in the incubator and wheeled next to her bed. The doctor turned to face her, but all she could see were the wires, tubes and sensors attached to her child.

"She'll be okay," he said. "Both of you need to rest now."

But she could sense his uncertainty so she knew her baby wasn't out of the woods. He was just saying that because he had done all he could.

When he left the room, her tears had dried up. She couldn't cry anymore. Grief was heavy on her shoulders as she listened to the tiny heartbeat that had accompanied hers for so long. And she listened to the whispers outside the house of the men planning an attack and then heading out into the forest. And she listened beyond it, hoping that Jackson was still out there.

Somehow Faith got her to the shower. She felt like a corpse when she walked back into the bedroom afterwards and found that Faith had remade the bed and cleaned up. The young girl stood over her baby, her hand on the glass.

"She's beautiful," Faith whispered. "We've never had a Queen before."

She didn't react to the slip-up. They had all slipped up several times in the panic to rescue their king. It was a fool's mission; she already knew they wouldn't find him. But she needed to hold on to that hope like they all were. Any slip-ups weren't important anymore.

After Faith left her to rest, she put her hand over the glass protecting her baby and tried to think positive thoughts for her sake. She hadn't even got to hold her baby for long. A few hours later, the sun had risen again, and she still couldn't sleep. The urge to hold her baby had kept her awake, and that was the only thought she could focus on.

"I should hold you," she whispered to the little girl.

Just in case. Just in case it was the only time.

On that thought, she reached in and gently took the tiny hand in hers. Such a fragile thing. A wave of protectiveness washed over her. She was the only one left to take care of the baby; she was the only one left to fight for her life. If the doctor didn't give her better news the next time he came in to check on her, she would insist on going to a human hospital. Jackson would want her to try everything she could.

‘Pick her up,' the voice in her head said.

"I can't. All those wires..."

‘Just be gentle. She shouldn't be that far away from us.'

She didn't argue with the voice because that was what she wanted. The tubes stayed in place as she lifted her child and placed her on her chest. And a part of her settled. A part of her healed.

"You're where you belong," she whispered to the sleeping child. "Hope. You look like a Hope."

Hope. It was a fitting name considering that was all she had. As she gently rubbed her daughter's back, she hoped her little lungs would start working on their own. She hoped her daughter would grow up and become the strong, independent girl she had often imagined. She hoped that, even without meeting her father, Hope would know Jackson had wanted her so much that he had moved heaven and earth to get her.

The pain pushed back into her heart, but her daughter's steady heartbeat kept it from breaking her.

Hope started to stir in her arms and started to whimper. She hadn't heard a peep out of her child after the initial cry.

"Are you hungry?" she whispered.

It took some effort, but eventually, she got the tiny bundle to latch onto her breast. Hope's first feed. Her heart filled as she watched her little cheeks work. For months she'd had doubts about the sort of mother she would be. Could she give Hope a good life? Could she learn everything she had to learn to teach her baby how to control her nature?

But as she watched the miracle in her arms, she knew. She would do everything in her power to raise Hope right.

"Miss Layla! The baby needs to stay in the..."

The doctor's words trailed off when he saw what she was doing. And by the disbelief she sensed coming from him, she realised the doctor hadn't believed Hope would be fine at all.

He met her gaze as if he had something to say but immediately lowered his eyes.

"When she finishes feeding, I'll check her again, Miss Layla," he said, giving her a small bow before leaving the room.

Faith walked in moments after, and like the doctor, she seemed surprised that the baby was in her arms.

"I had to hold her," she said defensively.

Faith nodded, and then came closer to look at the baby.

"Her name is Hope," she whispered, a little smile forming on her lips.

But that smile died only seconds later because the air changed. Something dangerous was coming towards them.

It felt like forever when he heard the wheels of several cars drive up the driveway, and then a voice she'd hoped never to hear again spoke.

"The baby has been born, so it's time to kill the human, as we agreed. We can't allow her to live."

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