Chapter 43– Ella’s Suspicions

(Ella’s POV)

The morning light filtered softly through my bedroom window, illuminating the pages of my sketchbook where wildflowers danced across the paper in careful strokes. Normally, these quiet hours brought me peace, a meditative escape from the chaos of the pack and the constant whispers of resentment that clung to me like a shadow. But today, the tranquility felt fragile, it was as if the air itself carried a weight I couldn’t shake.

I traced a finger along the edge of the page, my thoughts refusing to settle. The test in my hand from the night before still burned in my memory, the stark lines confirming what I had hoped to deny: I was truly pregnant. My fingers trembled as I imagined the life growing within me, a life born from the union I had not chosen, bound to a man who had never truly wanted me.

The bond thrummed beneath my skin, it was subtle but insistent, a pulse that mirrored my growing unease. Through it, I sensed him—Cole. I felt the pull of his presence even in the quiet of my room, and it was a pull laced with tension, guilt, and an emotion I could barely identify. His turmoil was so vivid it was almost tangible, a storm trapped within his chest.

I drew in a shaky breath, curling my knees to my chest on the floor. His conflict tore at me. I had known, even before the revelation of my pregnancy, that he did not truly want this union. I had felt it in his eyes, in the set of his jaw, in the way his hand lingered uncomfortably when it touched mine. And now, with a child growing between us, the stakes had shifted, but his inner struggle remained.

A soft sigh escaped me as I closed my sketchbook and leaned against the wall. Part of me wanted to reach out, to speak to him, to demand honesty, demand clarity. But another part recoiled within me, it was wary of further disappointment, of being left alone to navigate this world alone while he chased the lingering shadow of his desires elsewhere.

My mind drifted back to Sasha, to her presence ever looming in the periphery of our lives. I recalled the fleeting glances, whispered warnings, and the subtle influence she seemed to wield over him. I could see it now, in retrospect—the way he tensed whenever her name was being mentioned, the way his gaze lingered too long, the faint trace of longing I was never supposed to see. Her manipulation had been so precise, calculated, and I could not help but feel the sting of betrayal—not entirely from him, but from the knowledge that I had been caught in a web spun by someone who delighted in my own downfall.

I pressed my hand to my stomach, feeling the gentle flutter growing within me, and my resolve strengthened. Whatever Cole felt, whatever temptations pulled at him, I could not let it sway me. The life I now carried was mine to protect. I would not allow manipulation or deceit to determine the path of this child. Not now, not ever.

The bond pulsed again, insistent and almost urgent, as if trying to remind me that he was nearby. I closed my eyes, letting myself sense his presence more clearly, but the emotions that washed over me were tangled and sharp. Guilt, desire, confusion, and longing all intertwined, leaving me unsettled. I could feel him trying to wrestle with Sasha’s influence, with his own choices, and it frightened me that I could not reach him, not entirely.

I stood abruptly, moving to the window and gazing out at the early morning mist curling around the trees. The world beyond my cabin seemed calm, serene, yet I knew the undercurrents were treacherous. Cole’s turmoil mirrored my own fears, the uncertainty that gnawed at me like a persistent ache. I had always believed that the bond, once awakened, would protect us, guide us, connect us. But now, it felt fragile, threatened by emotions he had not yet reconciled.

A soft knock at the door startled me, and I turned to see Marcus standing there, his expression unreadable but concerned. “Ella,” he said gently. “Are you ready for breakfast?”

I nodded, forcing a smile, though the tension in my chest did not ease. “Yes… I’ll be down in a minute.”

He hesitated, as if he sensed the storm within me, then gave a small nod and left. I exhaled slowly, letting the tension bleed slightly from my shoulders. Marcus had always been my anchor, my guide in the labyrinth of the pack’s politics and secrets. If anyone could help me navigate the complexities of Cole’s emotions and Sasha’s interference, it was him. Yet even he could not force honesty or change in another person.

I returned to the window, tracing patterns in the condensation with my finger. I could feel the presence of Cole again, this time closer, the bond between us was stretching like a taut thread. His emotions were chaotic, raw, and painfully evident. Desire, guilt, regret, and temptation warred within him, and I could sense Sasha’s shadow tugging at the edges of his focus.

A shiver ran through me. Could he truly be able to resist her? Could he be able to honor the bond, honor the life growing inside me, and finally acknowledge the truth of what we shared? Or would the temptation be too strong for him to overcome, and would I be left once more to pick up the pieces of a fractured connection that was forced upon us?

I shook my head, pressing my hands to my stomach again. The child, however small and new, was a part of me. It had a claim on my heart, my attention, and my strength that no external influence could diminish. Whatever Cole’s struggles, whatever Sasha attempted to weave, I had to remain steadfast, vigilant, and resilient.

The thought of confronting Cole crossed my mind. I could speak to him directly, demand clarity, demand honesty about his feelings, about Sasha, about the choices he would make. But fear held me back—the fear that his words would wound me further, that his confusion would spill over into my own heart, and that the bond, delicate yet insistent, might strain under the weight of unresolved emotion.

Instead, I resolved to observe, to watch for signs, to sense his intentions through the bond without forcing interaction that might provoke defensiveness or further distance. I would protect myself, protect the child, and maintain vigilance against manipulation. Sasha had once underestimated me; she would not be allowed to do so again.

I sat back down at my sketchbook, trying to focus on the wildflowers I had drawn earlier, on the lines and curves that had always brought me solace. But my mind kept returning to Cole—the pull of his presence, the thrum of his conflicted emotions, and the realization that nothing would be ever again be simple. The life growing inside of me, the bond between us, and the shadow of Sasha’s interference created a tension that coiled around my chest, unrelenting.

I traced a new design in the margin of the page, a wildflower curling around a protective spiral. It was a small metaphor, a talisman, a reminder that I could grow, thrive, and protect what mattered to me even in the midst of chaos. I whispered a promise to myself, soft but resolute.

“I will not falter nor will I cower,” I said aloud, voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. “I will protect this life. I will protect myself. And I will not allow him—or anyone—to make choices that would endanger what we have or what is growing within me.”

The bond pulsed again, insistent, reminding me that Cole was near, that his choices would end up affecting us both, that the storm was not yet over. I drew in a deep, grounding breath and resolved to face it, whatever came through. I would meet his turmoil with head on, with patience, vigilance, and unwavering strength, knowing that the future—our future—depended on my clarity and resolve.

For the first time since discovering about my pregnancy, I felt a semblance of control, however fragile it might be. The chaos of emotions I felt, the manipulations, and uncertainty had not dissipated, but I had found a thread to hold onto.

I closed the sketchbook with a decisive snap, once again pressing a hand to my belly. The flutter within reminded me of the life that now demanded my attention, my courage, and my resolve. Cole’s struggles, Sasha’s manipulations, and the weight of the bond were all part of the storm, but I would navigate it and become victorious. I had to do this For myself, and for the child growing quietly inside me, waiting for the world we would one day create together.