Pregnant And Rejected

Chapter 146 Arabella Learns the Limits of Magic

Arabella’s POV

Damn it! I internally shriek, staring in horror at the news broadcast filling.the television screen. Selene and her brat are parading across a stage, charming the crowd and giving a flawlessly sympathetic performance. What the hell are they thinking? This is the last thing I need!

Bastien has been watching the news like a hawk, pacing like a caged tiger in front of the TV and alternatively scouring the newspapers for any scrap of intel. I’ve been carefully screening both before he gets his hands on the remote or the morning post, but until now we haven’t come up against this kind of crisis and that’s undoubtedly what this is. If Bastien sees the press conference footage I’m absolutely screwed. They are too convincing, too lovely, and that child is obviously his. For all she resembles her mother, when she speaks to the reporter it’s as if the words are coming from Bastien himself albeit a very young Bastien.

Everything I’ve been telling him depends on making Selene the enemy: a cunning, vengeful tyrant. My story is a far cry from the quietly courageous, loving and fragile beauty on the TV. What’s worse, her speech is the perfect balm for everything which has been going wrong in Elysium these last few weeks no doubt at Frederic’s hands. I can almost see the rifts in the Nova pack healing beneath her caring ministrations.

I cut the wires to the TV before Bastien wakes, thanking the Goddess that fatigue seems to be a side-effect of the memory potion. I’m just in time. No sooner have I stored the wire cutters that he emerges from his room, scrubbing a tired hand over his face as he moves toward the abandoned remote only pausing to give me a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Morning Bella.”

Clicking the device repeatedly with no response, he mutters, “the cable must be out.” Instead he retrieves the newspaper, which thankfully printed too early to include details from the press conference. Still, i’ll almost certainly have to find a way to alter tomorrow’s post.

As Bastien sits down at the breakfast table, pouring himself a mug of coffee, I suddenly realize I was so distracted by Selene’s antics that I’ ve forgotten to dose his drink. While his head is still buried behind the paper, I sidle close, uncorking the vial I keep on a chain around my neck and leaning over him. “Don’t worry,” I say, pretending to reach for a slice of toast and tipping the vial over his glass of juice. “I’ll call the cable company first thing.”

Bastien looks up just as I shake a few drops of potion into his drink, and I whip the vial behind my back before he can see what I was doing. He looks as though her might have caught a flash of movement, but the potion dulls his senses as well as his memory, and a quick distraction should easily ease his suspicion, “Okay?” I prompt, focusing his attention on my previous comment.

“Fine.” He afrees. “I don’t want to spend the day in front of the TV again anyway. I’ve got to get out of this apartment, Bella.”

“Bastien we’ve talked about this.” I sigh, not having to fake an ounce of my exhaustion with the subject.

think I would.” He argues, “After all, you told me you had to order

they’ll know a strange wolf is roaming around.” I remind him. In fact, I have to scrub myself raw every

here.” He gripes, “This city has millions of inhabitants and thousands of tourists

bone. “We’ll go out tonight but I decide where, and

comically indignant. “I will not put on

I mutter,

if that isn’t the pot calling

Bastien’s POV

place?” I inquire, staring at my surreal surroundings in surprise and dismay. When Arabella said she was going to show me the city, I expected her to take me on a tour of her favorite places. Granted,

beautiful and open and at one with nature, conforming itself to the natural landscape rather than bending the environment to our will. But there is nothing natural about this place

not shining examples of technology and innovation, instead I feel as if I’ve walked

keep things simple. The poor stay belowground in the old levels of the city, and the nobility and aristocrats live above. It’s

usual to wrap my head around even simple concepts. It feels sort of like I’m constantly moving through water, fighting to sort out logic and my own feelings in slow motion. “Simpler?” I repeat, “Arabella, it’s

She laughs warmly, trying to make me understand. “People are happier this way – the poor and the rich. The classes aren’t meant to mix, Bastien, How do you think the poor feel when they have to look at everything the wealthy enjoy but they’ll never possess themselves? This is more humane.” She loops her arms through mine, and leads me back to the above ground section of the city. Fresh air washes over me instantly, and the wretched conditions of

Elysium.” Arabella continues, sweeping her arm wide. “Look at this, it’s a utopia because Blaise isn’t afraid to make controversial

sister, as well as shame

Arabella’s POV

gets worse

as I do, even if he needed a little help to see the beauty of the arrangement. Yet

It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t remember Selene, he seems no closer to falling in love with me now than he did seven