Pregnant And Rejected

Bastien’s POV

Arabella is the one who set the fire that was supposed to have killed me.

A few years ago I would have thought Selene was out of her mind for suggesting such a thing. Before the fire, Arabella seemed like the same vapid teenager I’d always known: Vain, self-centered and far too used to getting her own way. Dad and I spoiled her after Flynn died, letting her get away with murder out of misplaced guilt and convincing ourselves her antics were harmless.

In some ways it served us right to be manipulated by her – if we were foolish enough to buy the act when she batted her lashes and played the delicate flower, well, that’s on us, not her. And though I was always aware the innocent act was just that an act I never imagined Arabella was concealing anything truly malicious.

| underestimated her desire for power, as well as her ego and cunning. She’d always been intelligent, but I hoped she would put her talents to a more noble use than social climbing. For a time I was even hopeful she would live up to my high expectations. When Selene was alive Arabella was always there for me when I needed a shoulder to lean on or ear to bend, she always understood my perspective and empathized with my struggles.

I didn’t want anyone’s pity or sympathy after Selene died, and Arabella’s repeated attempts to provide it anyway slowly twisted and mutated into something much darker. Rather than affording me the blame I so clearly deserved for my mate’s demise, she placed the responsibility on Selene – never coming out and saying so directly, but always implying, always insinuating. Eventually Arabella began criticizing Selene outright, ignoring my outraged rebukes every time.

When she finally colluded with the Elder Council to engineer a marriage between us, her machinations came fully into the light, breaking the last straw on the camel’s back. Over the years our relationship disintegrated further and further, until it became nothing more than a shadow of the friendship I once believed we shared. No matter how many times I tried to make headway or repair the damage, Arabella jumped at every opportunity she saw to try and insinuate herself into the role of my mate – unraveling whatever progress or hope I’d managed to scrape together.

It has become only too clear that Arabella wants to lead the pack regardless of who she must cross or charm, and though I still don’ t want to believe the little girl I grew up with could be capable of such evil, I’ve seen too much of the world to think my mate’s accusations’ impossible.

Arabella set the fire? I repeat gruffly.

Whatever Selene expected, it clearly wasn’t belief. She takes an uncertain step back and for a moment I think she’s actually going to answer, but then she pauses, seeming to remember her leverage. I’m not answering any more questions until you take me back to Lila.

I want to hold onto my own advantage, I can’t put off such important answers. Let’s

indignantly every time I slow my pace for her sake, and complaining every time I stop for a seemingly unnecessary break. I’m as impatient as she is to get back, but while she

happily playing in the front garden when we reach the edge of the wood. It takes a few minutes to help Selene shift back into

it is my own. I want nothing more than to join them and offer my own affection, but the moment I take a step forward Selene bares her

twitches, I’ve always loved seeing Selene’s fleeting flashes of ferocity. They were utter rarities during our marriage, but never failed to remind me of a grumpy kitten. Even now, when I know her

and Donavon set up a perimeter outside. As impatient as I am

listening to every word out of the pups mouth and asking eager

in her periphery. When Lila’s focus shifts to me, her lips stretching in a wide, toothy grin and her bright eyes lighting up with excitement, Selene glares at me

being with gentle hands, “Hello pup. Did you

at the sound of the nicknames, but Lila doesn’t notice. The child

car.” Selene shares, watching us closely. “There’s not

come to Elysium you can ride in

cheeks even as Lila squeaks with excitement, but I can’t bring myself to feel guilty. I don’t care how dirty! have to play I’m going to

from my grasp, furiously muttering, “We aren’t going anywhere near

I’ve yet to hear your accusations

angry enough to scream, though she keeps her cool. “First of all, it isn’t your decision regardless of where the danger is greatest.” Then,