Chapter 26: Almost Had a Miscarriage!

 

She knew that he was tall and had immense strength, and even using all her strength, she couldn't compete with him. So she bit him.

His hand was clamped over her mouth and nose and she could not breathe and she turned her head the half-inch she had and sank her teeth into the flesh between his thumb and forefinger as hard as she could.

"FUCK!"He yanked back with a sharp curse and she used all of it, both arms coming down to wrap around her midsection, knees pulling up, curling her body into the tightest possible shape with her hands pressed flat against her stomach. She made herself into a ball around the one thing that could not be hit.

The next blow caught her shoulder and snapped her sideways. She did not uncurl.

Another one across her back, hard enough that her vision went white at the edges. She pressed her hands tighter against herself and tucked her chin and stayed curled.

Her face hit the alley floor. Cold stone. The smell of wet concrete and old garbage and her own blood from somewhere, she could taste it. She lay there and felt the impacts continuing and thought with complete clarity: do not move your hands. Whatever happens, do not move your hands.

A kick to her ribs.

She made a sound she could not control, high and involuntary, and she heard it echo off the alley walls, and she thought: someone will hear.She gathered what air she had and screamed, a real one, as loud as she could make it, and the hand came back over her mouth and she bit it again in the same place and this time he pulled back harder and swore louder and she screamed again into the open air.

Running footsteps somewhere above her. A door opening. Voices.

Then nothing.

---

The ceiling was white.

Hospital white, the specific shade that came with inset lighting and the smell of antiseptic and the sound of wheels on linoleum somewhere down a corridor. Briar lay and looked at it and conducted a careful inventory. Hands. Stomach. The hands were still there, still pressed against herself, dried blood on the knuckles.

"She's awake. Liam, she's awake."

Mabel was on her feet. Liam crossed to her from the chair by the window faster than his injuries should have allowed.

"The baby," Briar said. Her voice came out wrong. Scraped and thin.

"The doctor is coming."

"Liam." She looked at him directly. "Is the baby okay."

"The doctor is coming," he said again.

She put both hands flat on her stomach. She did not care who saw. "I kept my arms there," she said. "The whole time. I didn't let them hit my stomach after the first time. I bit him and I curled up and I kept my arms there."

"I know," he said. "You did everything right."

The door opened. The doctor had the particular expression of someone who had practiced delivering difficult information without making it worse.

"Mrs. Vane. How are you feeling?"

"Tell me about my baby," Briar said.

"You're approximately ten weeks along," the doctor said. "The attack caused significant stress. We're seeing early indicators of threatened miscarriage. You are not in active miscarriage," she continued, before Briar could make the sound that was building in her chest, "but it is a risk we are monitoring closely. You need complete rest. No physical exertion. No stress of any kind. We want to keep you overnight at minimum."

Ten weeks.

Briar lay very still and looked at the ceiling and breathed.

"We'll check again in the morning," the doctor said. "Try to rest."

She left.

Liam and Mabel looked at each other over Briar's head.

"The chart," Liam said quietly.

"I'll go fix the registration," Mabel said, already moving. "Give me ten minutes."

She went out and Liam pulled his chair close and sat down and put his head in his hands.

"Don't," Briar said.

"I should have protected you. I should have been more vigilant about your situation after the rogue wolf appeared. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I failed "

"Liam. Stop." She turned her head to look at him. "None of this is your fault. Stop."

He pressed his lips together.

They sat in quiet for a moment.

Then the footsteps came down the corridor. Briar recognized them before the door opened.

Killian!

---

Two hours and fourteen minutes earlier, Killian had been on a call with the eastern territory council when the notification arrived.

Luna attacked. Rogue wolves. Hospital. Stable condition.

He had looked at the message and then made three calls. Gideon, to confirm the rogues were being tracked. Hospital, to confirm Briar was stable and being treated. A second call to Gideon to confirm the suspects were in custody.

Then he had gone back and finished what was on his desk.

Two hours later he drove to the hospital.

Then, he heard the doctor’s voice through the cracked door.

"Ten weeks along. The fetus appears intact, but the stress of the attack..."

Killian froze.

[TEN WEEKS?] Fenris suddenly roared in his head. [TEN WEEKS! She has been carrying our pup for two months and we didn't know? Why didn't we know, Killian? Why didn't she tell us!]

Fenris was pacing, his temper flare-up making Killian’s hands twitch.

Killian pushed the door open.

Liam was in the chair beside the bed. Briar was propped up against the pillows, her face a ghostly white, her hands clutched tightly over her stomach. Killian’s eyes darted between them. He remembered how often Liam had been around lately. He remembered Briar's sudden defiance.

"How long have you known you were pregnant?" Killian asked.

Briar looked at him, her eyes wide and wet. "A few weeks," she whispered.

"And you didn't tell me."

"No."

"Why?"

"I have to protect my babies!" Briar’s voice rose. "I won't let them go! You said... you said when there was a baby, I had to leave! You can't take them! They're mine!"

Killian felt a dark, ugly insecurity coil in his gut. He looked at Liam, then back at his wife. "Is it mine?"

The silence that followed was suffocating.

[YOU IDIOT!] Fenris screamed. [HOW COULD YOU ASK THAT? Look at her! Look at her face! You’re hurting her, you're hurting our mate, stop it! STOP IT NOW!]

He was crashing against the walls of Killian's mind, desperate to reach her, to snarl at anyone who threatened her, including his own human half. [She’s terrified! Fix it! Do something!]

Briar’s face crumbled. "Get out," she choked out. "Please... just go away."

Killian stepped back into the corridor, his jaw locked. Liam followed him, his eyes burning with silent judgment.

[Apologize!] Fenris demanded. [Go back in there. She’s small and she’s hurt and she’s carrying our blood. You’re being a monster, Killian. Be careful with her or I will never let you have peace again!]

Killian didn't apologize—he didn't know how—but he felt the pressure of Fenris’s shame. He went to the nurses' station and grabbed a cup of water. His movements were stiff, his pride fighting every step.

He walked back into the room. Briar was staring at the ceiling, tears silent as they tracked into her hair.

Killian sat in the chair. He didn't speak. He reached out and slid his hand behind her neck, lifting her head with a gentleness that felt foreign to his fingers. He held the straw to her lips.

***

Briar felt Killian’s big hand behind her head and she stiffened. She thought he was going to be mean again. She thought he was going to yell because she was "slow" or "fat" or "bad."

But his hand was... soft. It didn't squeeze.

She looked at the cup, then at him. He wasn't looking at her; he was looking at the water, his face hard and scary like always, but his hands were being so, so careful.

She took a sip. The water was cool and it made her throat feel better after all the crying. Killian didn't pull the cup away. He waited until she was done, then he slowly lowered her back onto the pillow. He even tucked the blanket around her feet.

Her heart felt all squished and funny. *He's being nice?* she thought. *Does he love the babies? Is that why he’s being a good Killian?*

She felt a tiny spark of happiness, the kind she felt when she got a gold star or a yummy candy. It was so easy to forget how much he hurt her when he did something like this. She wanted to reach out and hold his hand, to tell him she was sorry for being a "bad girl" and keeping the secret.

*Maybe he won't make me leave,* she thought, her bottom lip wobbling. *Maybe we can be a real family and I can stay in the big house forever.*