Pregnant And Rejected

Chapter 110 Followed

Selene’s POV

When Lila and I reached New Town, the streets rearranged themselves before my very eyes. All of a sudden the world around me transformed: the cars and modern advertisements faded, reverting to styles and campaigns from the forgotten past. New restaurants and shops disappeared, replaced by businesses which have long since closed.

Everything appears as it did fifteen years ago the last time I truly spent time here – the last time I walked these streets before my mother died and Garrick took me prisoner. After I escaped I rarely came here. I avoided this neighborhood like the plague. But here I am again, ten years old and about to lose everything I ever knew and loved.

“This is it, Mommy?” Lila’s tiny hand squeezes mine, her beloved voice jolting me out of my reverie.

“This is it.” I confirm. “I grew up in that very house.” And lost everything there too. Luna adds.

Hush. I tell my outspoken wolf.

“Can we go inside?” Lila asks eagerly.

“Okay.” I agree hesitantly.

Walking through the unlocked front door feels like stepping straight into the past. It’s even worse than being out of the street. In

this familiar foyer, I feel like I’m no taller or wiser than my pup. The house has been emptied, but the lingering scent of my childhood remains.

It’s not all bad. I was right when I told Bastien there were some happy memories here. I remember coming home from school to find my mother pulling freshly baked cookies out of the oven, or building blanket forts with her in the middle of the living room.

I can still see her smile, I can even imagine I smell her perfume. Being here evokes sensations I never thought I’d feel again, feelings I want to hold onto and never let go. However the moment I look at the heavy basement door, I see only darkness.

I turn away from the door with determination, watching Lila wander the deserted space. “Mommy, dere’s no furniture.”

“There was when I lived here.” I explain. “There was furniture and artwork and all the sorts of things we have at home.”

“Where’d everything go?” Lila asks curiously.

“Well,” I explain, gathering her into my arms. “My mother died when I was still just a girl. So after I met your Daddy, I went to live with him. There wasn’t a reason to keep anything here.”

cocks to the

until she’s much older – if

way I

of course your Daddy found us, so now you’ll always know him.” I smile, trying to force

squeezes her arms around my neck, “I wish your Daddy found

so pure. The thought of anyone doing to her what Garrick did to me makes my newfound power surge to life, rising inside

unlocked my power, controlling it is going to be the true challenge. It’s enough to give me emotional whiplash. This time last week I couldn’t summon my strength for anything in the world, now it pulses like a wild thing inside of me, but I can neither harness it

way. Luna assures me, Better to my out of

have to agree, though it does worry me to have this kind of force at my disposal when my precious pup is so nearby. “What do you think, angel?” I ask

“can we get I

my daughter pronounces “ice cream,” I decide

of the house I notice that the same black SUV which was driving behind us when we first arrived, is now parked a few spaces down from our car. The windows are tinted, but

that there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation. I buckle Lila

I don’t think I looked forward for more than one second at a time through the entire route. Instead my

stops too. I yank Lila out of the car and stride into the parlor as quickly as I can, pulling out my phone while my toddler presses her nose to the glass case holding the cold treat, oohing and aahing

only half a second.

breathe nervously. “Bastien, I think

sure?” He

been following us since before we got to New Town. We left

first clue why, but somehow Bastien sounds more relaxed now, “what do they

see their face- and I can’t scent them. But it’s a man, he looks pretty big. Wearing dark glasses

I’m able to see my stalker raising a phone to his

phone call?”

the word suspiciously, I add, “how

okay.” Bastien sighs with relief. “It’s just

it’s just Jerome?” I demand. “Who the

husband explains, as if

“What?” I question.