Chapter 54 — Ella’s Restless Night

The cabin had become too quiet.

Ella lay on her side, staring at the thin silver of moonlight spilling through the crack in the curtains. The space beside her was cold, sheets untouched, a hollow reminder that once again Cole hasn’t come to bed last night.

At first, she had tried convincing herself that he had been busy doing his duties as an Alpha in waiting. He had meetings and other responsibilities to attend to. But at this moment, with her hands gently resting on her stomach, she couldn’t deny the suspicions growing within her chest.

They were already changed to her body. Some mornings, she could wake up feeling dizzy. She could only feel ease when Mia pressed tea into her hands with a grin. Her moods felt like waves crashing against rock—high, low, and unpredictable. And even though Marcus had pulled her into a warm embrace when she’d shared the news with him, whispering “cub, you’ll be alright,” Ella couldn’t help but feel like she was the only one carrying the weight of it all.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember the little things Cole had done in the last few days: the apples he had left on the table, the way he had asked, although awkwardly, how her day had gone. Those little gestures should have mean a lot to her, they should have been able to keep her anchored.

But the way his eyes always tries avoiding hers, the restless energy in his shoulders, the scent of guilt clinging to him, all of it spoke to her, it was louder than his silence.

Her chest tightened. She turned over, hugging her pillow, while trying to fight the sting of tears. She wanted to believe him but she couldn’t help but think that sometimes all of it was just a lie. But the mate bond felt frayed, like a thread stretched too far, one tug away from snapping.

When the first light of dawn broke across the trees, Ella was still awake.

When Mia arrived by l midmorning. She plopped down on the porch railing, biting into a muffin she’d swiped from the kitchen.

“You look like you didn’t have any single night rest,”Mia said, narrowing her eyes. “Are you having nightmares again?”

Ella hesitated. “You could say that.”

Mia studied her, then tossed the half-eaten muffin aside and reached over, squeezing Ella’s shoulder. “You’ve got to stop keeping everything bottled in. You are so much stronger than you actually think, but strong people also crack when they carry too much weight.”

Ella smiled faintly but didn’t give her any answer. She wasn’t ready to voice the truth, that her fears weren’t just about nightmares but also about the man who should have been her safe place.

When Mia finally left, Ella wandered back inside, her hand drifting instinctively to her stomach. A fierce protectiveness rose within her, it was sharper than anything she had ever felt. If Cole couldn’t be the anchor she needed, then she would anchor herself. For the child growing inside her, she had to.

Later that day, Marcus dropped by. He smelled of pine and leather, his scent a familiar one wrapping around her like home.

“Cub,” he greeted softly, his eyes searching her face. “You’ve gotten pale.”

“I didn’t have enough sleep,” Ella admitted. She tried for a reassuring smile, but Marcus wasn’t fooled.

He stepped closer, resting a heavy, grounding hand on her shoulder. “You know you can tell me whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

Her throat tightened. She wanted to tell him everything, that Cole was slipping away, that she felt like she was only clutching at smoke. But the words tangled in her chest.

Instead, she whispered, “It’s nothing. Just… nerves.”

Marcus’s gaze lingered, sharp and knowing, but he didn’t press. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small carved wolf figurine, its edges rough and unfinished.

“I started working on this months ago,” he said. “I thought this is the right time that you need it.”

Ella took it carefully, her chest swelling with warmth. The figurine was clumsy, uneven, but it was the most precious gift she had ever held.

“Thank you,” she breathed, her voice cracking.

“Cub,” Marcus murmured, his tone firm, “Always remember that you aren’t alone, you have people who truly care and love you.”

Even after the door closed as he left, those words still burned in her.”

That night, Ella sat at the wooden table with her sketchbook open, the wolf figurine resting beside her. She traced the grainy lines of its snout, then let her pencil move across the page.

This time around, she drew Cole. His profile sharp, she drew the way his hair fell when he pushed a hand through it, the restless fire in his gaze. But before she could finish her sketch, the pencil slipped making the lines turned fractured.Before the image could full form, She shut the sketch book.

The silence of the cabin pressed against her again. She listened for the sound of his footsteps, the creak of the door, anything that meant he was here. But the hours dragged by, and the bed remained empty.

She rose and walked to the mirror, pressing her palm flat against her stomach. For a moment, she imagined the faintest flutter beneath her hand. Her lips parted, a soft gasp escaping. She whispered into the still air, “You are not alone, I will always be here to protect you.”

But when she looked up again, her own reflection stared back at her, her eyes hollow with sleepless nights, hope and dread at war within them.

The next morning, on her path to the clinic to overshadow the pack medic, Jasper caught up with her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, falling into step beside her.

Ella forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

Jasper gave her a sidelong glance, his sharp eyes narrowing. “You don’t look like it.”

She laughed softly, though it sounded brittle. “Now, you sound like Marcus.”

“Good,” Jasper said simply. Then, after a pause, “If Cole’s giving you trouble—”

“Don’t,” Ella cut in quickly, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Nothing of such is happening.”

But the lie sat heavy on her tongue. Jasper didn’t press, though she could feel his suspicion like a shadow at her side.

When they finally parted ways, Ella lingered, staring at the trees swaying in the breeze. She knew people were watching, whispering. She could almost hear their voices: the human girl, the charity case, carrying the Alpha’s child.

And in all of these discomfort she felt, Cole was nowhere to be found.”

The knot in her chest grew tighter. She clenched her fists, whispering fiercely, “With or without Cole, I will do this.”

When the cabin door finally creaked opened that night, Cole stumbled inside, smelling faintly of whiskey. His eyes flickered to hers, and for a moment, guilt burned there, raw and exposed.

But before she could utter a word, he looked away, muttering something about patrols.

Ella stood frozen, the words trapped in her throat. She wanted to ask where he had been. She wanted to scream, to demand for honesty. But the weight of exhaustion pressed down on her.

So instead, she simply turned and walked to the bedroom, her voice soft but steady.

“Goodnight, Cole.”

Even as she lay down, she pressed her hands protectively over her stomach as she lay down, the promise repeating in her mind like a mantra: I’ll protect you. No matter what.