The Mystical Attraction of Alpha

Chapter 271 – A Cry in the Forest

Ella

My breath starts to come short and fast now as I press my hand desperately to my stomach, seeking that connection somewhere within me. But I feel like I’m grasping through empty air, my fingers searching for any touch, any tie, and coming up empty.

“Ella,” Sinclair murmurs, tightening his hands against my back. “Calm down – the doctors say that it’s okay, that he’s still with us –”

“Still with us,” I growl, my teeth clenched as I try to manifest that damn connection, to make it appear even when it stubbornly refuses to present itself. “How can he still be with us if I can’t feel him?”

Sinclair shushes me softly again, a soft rushing sound that despite my desperation – makes me open my eyes and look at him. My fear comes rushing in then, wiping out my anger and frustration. “Dominic, what does it mean?” I ask, my voice trembling. “If the doctor’s say they have a heartbeat – but we can’t feel him?”

“I don’t know, Ella,” he responds, his own voice low with worry and despair. “But we’re going to figure it out, okay? Together?” He pulls his brows together, worried, and nods to me, begging me to see. “Please, just calm down. We’ll think it through.”

I nod quickly, bobbing my head in agreement and forcing my body to relax. Sinclair moves beneath me, folding his legs instead of kneeling, pulling me into his lap and cradling me against his chest. I rest my head against him, making myself breathe slow, deep breaths, letting the warm scent of him root me in my body.

God, how long have I been gone? I have…memories. Memories of being here, of dancing, of being in the clouds and in the trees…of flickering in and out of this place. I push my mind back further and remember, quite suddenly, the last place I was

Cora, handing her the gift…watching her use

drowning in my mother’s power, of all of it draining from me as I handed it to Cora, taking my

little. “She’s totally fine. The world is fine. But…don’t worry about

turn my attention to my little boy, then, and my heart breaks. God, I want him so badly – have wanted him so badly for years and years. And in these past few months of happiness with Sinclair, I have let myself imagine a beautiful future. I imagine him covered in pasta sauce the first time he tries spaghetti, imagine his first steps, imagine him playing baseball

it’s so horrible I can hardly stand it. I feel myself physically cringing at the idea, curling

horrible, the idea that it could all be just

that. I suddenly sit up straighter in Sinclair’s arms. “What?” he asks, curious, a

dream,” I murmur, my mind wheeling as I look around at our surroundings. “We’re in a dream.” “Well, yeah,” Sinclair says, as

studies my face and doesn’t say anything, letting me continue. “And you’re here,” I insist, starting to get excited

slowly, still not getting

Make him real so we can hold him, tell him how much we want him? You brought me back right now you kissed me – can’t we do it with him?” I lose track of my train of thought a little at the end there – but I don’t care, I’m too excited now. This is going

lap, ready to get to my feet, to head into the forest, to find my son, but Sinclair quickly pulls me back. “Ella,” he hesitates, “I don’t know

I ask, spinning to look at him

because I’m your mate – I’ve never heard of a mother sharing her dream with her pup, even while pregnant I scoff at

laughs at me for a moment then and I stop, smiling a little back at him. This, I think, this is what we’re fighting for. For the bond between us, for the push and pull, for the fact that we’re sitting in a dream, in the midst of a tragedy, that I’m probably dying and somehow I’m still rolling my