Pregnant And Rejected

Chapter 142 Bedrest

Selene’s POV

The dreams haven’t stopped. It seems every time I close my eyes, some new memory or imagined depiction of the past resurfaces to haunt me. Most of the time they’re pleasant: the early months of my first marriage to Bastien, milestones in Lila’s young life, even a few more events from my childhood.

Of course they aren’t all good. I’ve relived my mother’s death in this uncomfortable hospital bed, as well as Garrick’s abuse and Gabriel’s murder and then there are the dreams about Bastien. Not sweet reminiscings of our recent reunion or sex fueled fantasies, but nightmares: horrible visions of all that might befall him on his journey, and imaginings of horrors already suffered.

Just now I was wrenched from sleep by the bloody scenes of his attempted assassination, which my tormented brain created in the middle of an otherwise peaceful rest. I sit up in bed gasping for air, looking around in fear and confusion as if I might still be in that forest surrounded by violence and death.

My heart monitor is beeping wildly, and the next thing I know, Dr Kane is striding into the room with a worried frown. “What’s going on little mama?” He asks, studying my pale face and then the machines, “Are you going to be sick?”

As soon as he says it, I realize I am. Nodding frantically, I reach for the trash bin next to my bed, and he promptly helps me, pushing the plastic lined container into my hand. Retching while the physician holds back my hair and murmurs words of comfort, tears spring to my eyes. Sliding out from between my tightly clenched lashes and rolling down my cheeks, I have no way of stopping the salty cascade. My hands are occupied trying to ensure the meager contents of my stomach make it into the trash receptacle and not my bed or the floor. Thus, when the sickness finally passes, there is no hiding my distress from the doctor.

“Poor darling.” He murmurs sympathetically, producing a box of tissues. “You must be feeling awful.”

Nodding pitifully, I dab at my tears, “I’m sorry, I hope you aren’t here so late because of me.”

We’d discovered just how disruptful my illness had been to my rest the night Lila stayed with me, which unfortunately did not go very well. After being woken three times by my retching and becoming increasingly upset seeing me in such a state, I had to call Drake to come get her. The attentive doctor had been very concerned and forbidden further sleepovers, but he also began staying later and later at work to keep an eye on me.

“You’ve got the future of the pack in there.” He says, nodding towards my belly. “It would be a dereliction of duty for me to leave you unattended.”

When Thomas’s eyes widen in alarm and he reaches toward me in concern, I raise my palm, “No, I’m s-sorry, I’m f fine.” I hiccup, sounding completely unconvincing. “It’s just

diagnoses sternly, “you weren’t this bad off with Lila. I’m very worried that

off, looking like he wants

“what is

not the first time he’s expressed this, in fact he’s repeated it at least three times

tightens, “With all due respect, Dr Kane,” I begin in a hard voice, surprising the man with whom I’m usually much more informal. “You don’t know what is going on in our lives, and as

murdered, Odette was practially suicidal, the pack was falling to pieces, Arabella was trying to murder me and then I was trying to figure out how to be independent and a mother at the same time. Still, I know the weight of our current predicament is weighing on

was basically a shell of a woman, unable to truly process anything that was happening or feel the depth of emotion I do now. And now I have a pup who’s life is in danger, I have a bonded mate who’s

his lips. “Let me tell you what I do know. Your blood pressure is elevated, you’re five pounds lighter than you were at this stage with Lila despite starting out at a higher weight, you’re anemic and calcium deficient, dangerously dehydrated and you’re sleeping round the clock. I don’t need to know what’s going

from beneath my lashes, I say.

Dr. Kane counters, digging in his heels, “I assume by now he knows

both of our attention and sending a flush over

his head. “There must be some way you

a bit defiantly. “Believe me

to pry, Selene.” He says, in the tone of someone who is absolutely about to pry. “But under the circumstances I need to know your situation to best

returns.” i grind out, but believe me, if he has any say in the matter whatsoever, he will return. Nothing has happened

Kane presses,

“Of course.” I snarl.