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.”

little head cocks to the side, “what

until she’s much older – if ever. “I never knew my Daddy.”

way I

so now you’ll always know him.” I

squeezes her arms around my neck, “I wish

her what Garrick did to me makes my newfound power surge to life, rising inside me like a tidal wave of protectiveness. Suddenly my fury towards Blaise Denizen hits a fever pitch, and I have to smother the energy pulse fighting to burst

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 when

Luna assures me, Better to my out of control than

of force at my disposal when

eagerly, “can

cream,” I decide nothing has ever sounded more appetizing.

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 I can just decipher the outline

there could be a perfectly reasonable explanation. I buckle Lila into her car seat, then slide

than one second at a time through the entire route. Instead my eyes were glued to the rear view

the ice cream shop, the SUV 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

dial tone rings for only half a

nervously. “Bastien, I think we’re being

you sure?” He asks,

us since before we got to New Town. We left a while ago and went for ice

first clue why, but somehow Bastien sounds more relaxed now,

I report. “I can’t see their face- and I can’t scent them. But it’s

the car, and I’m able to see my stalker raising

a phone call?” My mate

suspiciously, I

it’s okay.” Bastien sighs with

do you mean it’s just Jerome?” I demand. “Who the hell is

sentey I assigned to guard you two.” My husband explains, as if this was the most obvious thing in the

“What?” I question.