No one had confirmed this. The two I had deduced that knew, Bindi and Antonio, never communicated who the father was, under some damn spell themselves, which Antonio had never tried to reverse to help me. Instead, when I occasionally lost it completely and screamed at them to tell me who the father was, they turned into stone, never giving a damn thing away. Not even when I started naming Mysticals at random. Nothing. They did fucking nothing to help me, and some may say that, sadly, they were the closest people to me. I never let anyone else near, not wanting anyone else.
I spent my free time alone, caged by the barely leashed chaos I had become. My mind was tormented by memories I couldn’t access, fractions of time completely absent. I could remember waking in bed at the former King Shifter’s home, after that, nothing, then suddenly I was at school at King Hall. The time between was a yawning void, but still, I had knowledge — it had to be knowledge — within the voids of my mind, because I knew things but couldn’t remember how I had gained the information. It was just there. That, in itself, made me dizzy at times.
And all of this because I had slept with a Vampire. These were the bare bits of evidence I had: a black and red ring with an inscription that read The Beauty Is Found, and a man’s overlarge grey t-shirt that read Live Hard or Die Bored, which I had been wearing when I had woken from my mind sweep. Add in the risks of having sex with a Vampire — Law 6002 set up specifically for a spelled mind sweep and separation if two Mysticals of different factions were found guilty of sexual relations — and the intimate ring, those two things combined indicated that we had loved each other. A useless emotion, if I ever saw one. And that was all I did. I saw how other Mysticals loved each other, because I sure as hell could not remember it with whoever was the father of my unborn child.
“Focus,” Bindi ordered quietly, practically holding me up as we walked through the camp full of white tents, beelining toward mine. “Your tent’s only a bit further.” Luckily for her, she didn’t mention I had waited too long to leave headquarters, because I probably would have let my voice out and she would be dead right now. “And quit growling at me, others can hear you.”
Huh, guess my wolf was making an appearance.
By the time Bindi had pushed my tent flap aside, my teeth were clenched so hard I was surprised I hadn’t broken a few. The flap closed behind us, and inside the privacy spell Antonio had created, the golden magic sparkling on the walls, I gave up all semblance of trying to contain the pain and screamed, grabbing my stomach and hunching, finally able to stop squeezing my legs, and muscles, together. Instantly, I felt a gush of warm water rush down between my thighs. Bindi grabbed me and, completely surprising me, lifted me clean off my feet, carrying me like a child while cursing under her breath.
She walked onto the burgundy and black rug that lay over the grass. On the left, she passed the two tall, plush burgundy chairs and a black couch with a small coffee table. On the right, there was a minibar I had set up. Since the war had started there were always Elders and Commanders interrupting my few moments of solitude, coming to my tent to discuss issues, and it was easy to get them to leave with a drink in their hand and half drunk. I had also made Antonio alter my tent so it was sectioned for privacy, my bedroom off the main entertaining area spelled for only those I let pass, into which Bindi now entered, brushing past another white tent flap.
Everything was the same on this side of the tent as always. No matter what camp we went to, the room was spelled that way. To the right stood two large cherry wood dressers with a Mage mirror in between, and next to those was my king-sized bed with burgundy sheets, plush pillows, and a leopard print fur bedspread with two cherry wood end tables on either side that held black wrought-iron lamps. There was also a burgundy bassinet for the baby next to the bed. Other than the new addition of the birthing bed on the left, it was deceptively homey…until you looked closer and saw that the whole room was sterile and cold, as I was now, with no personal items to be found, except maybe a book or two I had purchased to try to take my mind off…not remembering, which was harder than you could imagine.
“Shower,” I stated when Bindi tried to lay me on the birthing bed. “My water broke all over my legs.”
Bindi narrowed her eyes and disobeyed me, laying me firmly on the birthing bed. “There are going to be many more fluids coming from your body, so I wouldn’t worry about your water breaking.” She leaned over my face, gazing down at me. “You’re on my turf now. You will do as I say if you want your child to be born without complications.” She grinned — it was a little evil — making me blink at her as I hunched and grabbed my rounded belly. “I can imagine you would like something for the pain?”
I huffed, breathing in and out in ragged pants. “You’re a doctor from hell.”