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He sat on the couch, pulled Merle onto his lap, and rocked her, holding her tightly in his arms, feeling the life drain from her body—both lives.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, how long he rocked the ravaged body of his witch, of his unborn child inside her, before the front door burst open, and in stormed the intimidating force of a concerned Elder witch.
“She’s pregnant,” Rhun called out. “She’s paying pack to the Powers That Be, and I think she’s losing the baby.”
“Give her to me.” Hazel ran to Merle’s side, took her from Rhun’s arms.
Cradling Merle in one arm, she laid her hand on Merle’s abdomen, closed her eyes and murmured words of magic, the meaning of which flew right past Rhun’s tortured mind. A glow formed around Hazel, visible to his eyes even with his dulled daytime senses.
The Elder witch worked her magic like a madwoman, the glow around her blinding in its intensity. The gashes on Merle’s body closed, and she stopped bleeding magic. Had her other bleeding been stopped as well? Rhun couldn’t tell, because the air was drenched with the smell of blood to the point that—with his dulled daytime senses—he couldn’t discern whether there was any fresh blood. Merle’s skin was so white the freckles on her face stood out starkly.
He couldn’t read her aura, and he couldn’t feel anything from her. Rhun’s only way to tell how Merle was doing was through their mating bond, and that link lay silent. He didn’t dare ask Hazel how she was doing, for fear of interrupting her focus. He had to wait, he had to fucking wait for Hazel to be finished with whatever she was doing for his mate before she could tell him whether Merle and the baby would be okay.
The minutes ticked by. It seemed like forever. He swore his heart couldn’t beat this fast for such a long time without exploding in his chest.
Sweat broke out on Hazel’s forehead, her face scrunched up as if she was struggling. She kept muttering spells, most of them in Latin, the ancient language used for many charms. And Rhun barely understood a word of it. He couldn’t tell if she was making progress.
Then, finally, Hazel took a shaky breath, and withdrew her hand from Merle’s abdomen. She was shaking all over. Rhun got up, and knelt next to his mate. Hazel opened her eyes and looked at him, the white around her irises bloodshot, with dark circles under her eyes that hadn’t been there when she arrived. She seemed to have aged years within a matter of minutes.
“Is she…?” croaked Rhun, unable to ask aloud what he most feared.
Hazel signaled for him to take Merle from her arms, and he did so without a moment’s hesitation. Cradling his fiery witch volcano against his chest, he looked at the elder witch in trepidation.
“She will be fine,” Hazel said, her voice weaker than Rhun had ever heard it. “And I managed to save the baby. The bleeding has stopped, and, from what I can tell, the pregnancy is stable again.”
Rhun sagged against the couch, exhaling an enormous sigh of relief. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Merle’s.
* * *
When Merle came to, she was enveloped in the heat of Rhun’s arms, cradled by his love. The mating bond pulsed with his concern for her, feeding her strength. Her eyes fluttered open to behold a face of stark male beauty, set in harsh lines of worry and anger. When he noticed she was awake, the hard mask of his features softened, taking on that special expression he only ever showed when he beheld her.
“Merle mine…” A low murmur, pitched for her ears alone.
“The baby…” But even as she said it, she sensed the tiny spark inside her, felt its life glowing, growing, taking root. “Oh, thank the gods…”
“The gods have nothing to do with this one,” Rhun growled. “In fact, if it weren’t for Hazel, your precious gods would have taken our child’s life, along with your magic.”
“Hazel…” She frowned, sat up a little in his arms, looked around.
“Here.” The Elder witch, as dear to Merle as an aunt by blood, leaned closer and grasped Merle’s hand, squeezed. “I’m still here. It’s only been a few minutes.”
“You fucking scared me, little witch,” Rhun rasped. “If Hazel hadn’t been able to come so quickly…”
Hazel shook her head. “Merle would have survived.” Her unflinching stare slammed into Merle’s, a haunting truth written in it. “But your baby wouldn’t have.”
Merle’s hand instinctively covered her abdomen. “How…? Why did this happen? Paying back hurts, yes, and it’s always a burden, but it shouldn’t end anyone’s life.”
Hazel’s brows drew together. “I’m not sure. I’ve been thinking a little while you were recovering… It’s always the oldest living witch who becomes head of her family, and as far back as I can remember, I’ve only ever seen witches who were past childbearing age take that position. It’s the natural order of things.
“Which means that it should never be an issue that the head of a family—with the obligation to uphold the balance of magic—would become pregnant, and the pregnancy be at risk because of the excruciating process of paying back. I have never heard of a case like this, but then again, there wouldn't be many. It is so very unusual for a witch of Merle’s age to be the oldest surviving member of her family and have to take the leading position. I have to look into this, see if I can find any precedents in our history.”
“I will research in our library, too,” Merle said, a sinking feeling of foreboding churning in her gut. “I never thought…”
“Merle.” Hazel’s tone was so, so quiet, as if she was unwilling to fully voice what was on her mind. “Even without having done any further research on this, I can already tell you that the next time you have to pay back to the Powers That Be for the magic you’ve been using, I might not be able to save the baby. Even now it was a close call. There was a moment…” She took an unsteady breath, closed her eyes for a brief second. “I just barely managed to save her. As far as I can see, upholding the balance jeopardizes your pregnancy, and unless you stop using magic right now, and avoid using magic for the rest of the pregnancy, this baby very likely will not survive.”
It took a moment. Then the words hit Merle, crashed through the numbness saturating her mind, her heart, her soul, and smashed her nascent bud of hope. Stop using magic… To do so would mean—
“It’s time to end the deal with Arawn, then.” Rhun’s anger vibrated along the mating bond, underlaid with a terror so profound it shredded Merle’s tenuous grasp on her composure.
