Page 18 of Bound By My Alpha Mate

Against my better judgment, I was still pissed off when she rejected me. It hurt worse than I expected it to.

At least keeping her in the Manor gave me an excuse to stay here instead of at the mine. I had just gotten out of the shower and was looking forward to sleeping in my own bed for the few hours I had left that night when my phone rang. It was my father.

“Hey,” I answered, clutching the towel around my waist.

“Did you capture the girl?” my father asked immediately. A sense of urgency hastened his voice.

I hesitated and had no idea why I chose to lie. “No. Tracked her down; she attacked me and ran off again.”

David growled. “Sibyelle went into labor early, and I don’t think it’s going well. We need all the healing magic we can possibly get.”

The news made my stomach clench. Changing my tune and revealing I did have Kiara wouldn’t bode well for me. “Sorry. I’m at the Manor now. Do you need me to bring anything?”

“Yes. Towels, water, and blankets.”

“Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

While gathering the supplies, my mind ran wild. What exactly did he mean, he didn’t think it was going well? Obviously, we couldn’t take Sibyelle to a hospital; she had likely been on the run from authorities alongside Lothair this entire time, and I didn’t even know if she had any form of identification. If she was giving birth now, I believed the child would be premature by a few weeks. Shifters were resilient, but there was only so much trauma and stress a body could endure, especially in a dirty, dusty, dark cave.

I took care not to throw anything in the trunk, where it might collect Kiara’s smell. Driving as quickly as possible, I arrived at the mine thirty minutes after the phone call. I slung the duffle bag full of water bottles over my shoulder and gathered the blankets and towels in my arms. Dragons and wolves milled around outside with an air of anxiety. Inside the mine, shifters had taken on their human forms to be as helpful as possible. A crowd was gathered in the tunnel Lothair and Sibyelle had claimed as their own. I pushed past everyone to see my father and Lothair kneeling beside Sibyelle, who lay on a pile of blankets with her legs bent, wearing a bloodied, grey nightgown. Her body suddenly arched, her rigid windpipe exposed as she groaned in tumultuous agony. Sweat and grime slicked both men. Lothair, usually refined and suave, peered up at me with worried eyes. “Soak a towel and hand it here,” he said.

Nodding, I poured the contents of one bottle onto a towel until it was thoroughly drenched, then handed it off. Lothair wiped Sibyelle’s forehead with the cold towel, hushing gently.

“Where’s Muriel?” I asked.

“She’s still in the other room and has resisted helping us,” snarled David. “Go convince her. Without her help, Sibyelle and this child could die.”

There was already so much blood smearing the inside of Sibyelle’s thighs and pooling on the blankets underneath. David handed me a small key, and I hurried away from the tunnel, back to where they had left Muriel.

A few dragons were stationed in the room with her. The unicorn was slumped on her knees, her fists balled on the stone floor. Her skin was unwashed, and her greasy, silver hair was pulled back in a loose scrunchy. From her posture alone, I could tell she was tired, the effects of being kept prisoner within the mine taking their toll. She didn’t look up at me until I was close to her; her soft violet eyes hit my face, and her lips tugged into a frown. “My daughter,” she murmured.

Muriel probably smelled her on me.

“She escaped,” I told her, bolstering the lie I’d shared earlier and perhaps to give the reassurance that might persuade her to help us. “Sibyelle is bleeding out badly. They need your help, or she and her baby could both die.”

The unicorn lowered her gaze, lips taut. “If circumstances had introduced her to me as a stranger, I would have helped. But I know too much about what she and her kin have done. What you all intend to do next.” Muriel spoke slowly and carefully, wincing at her own refusal. I could tell it harmed her to do this. “I cannot help you knowing that her survival will enable more death and destruction.”

It was tragic, but I understood where she was coming from. I empathized with her. Of course she wouldn’t want to help us. The dragons had kidnapped her and made the last few months hell. Lothair and David planned to kill her and harvest her horn for the Lycan ritual. She’d seen us kill innocent shifters. We had even threatened the life of her daughter. Even if it meant two lives—including an infant’s—would be lost, Muriel was going to stand by her morals and withhold her healing magic from us. I breathed in slowly, scrambling to think of what to say. Part of me wanted to let Sibyelle and her child die, but duty implored me to try to save them.

“I get that,” I began, stepping closer to Muriel and crouching down to be on her level. “You aren’t obligated to help. My family has done too much to harm yours. And…it’s selfish and manipulative of me to attempt to convince you otherwise. Don’t think I’m not aware of how it will come off.” I sought her gaze, but she was steadfast in averting her eyes, depriving me of the emotional connection that might have otherwise persuaded her. “What I’m about to say is pure speculation, but I think you should consider it.”

The older woman grazed the floor with her nails, listening.

“There will be consequences if you allow Sibyelle or her baby to die,” I told her. “Not just for you, but for Kiara, too. My father will direct his wrath at anything and anyone that could have helped but didn’t. No quick death will precede the Lycan ritual; he’ll make you suffer. He’ll find ways to punish you for your refusal, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that means forcing you to endure a long, painful removal of your horn before you’re even dead. And he’ll do the same to Kiara. If both Sibyelle and her baby don’t survive, the dragons will be relentless in their hunt for your daughter.”

“But we will be slaughtered all the same,” muttered Muriel.

“I will suffer, too,” I insisted. With a quick glance at the dragons behind me, I leaned even closer to Muriel, lowering my voice so that she knew my attempts to plead with her were genuine. “Kiara is my fated mate.”

Finally, Muriel looked up at me. I knew she had learned of this early Monday morning but hadn’t revealed to anyone whether or not she approved, clutching her feelings on the matter close to her heart.

“You may not believe me, but I want mercy for my fated mate. Her pain will be my pain, and her sorrow will be my sorrow. Muriel, if there’s anything I can do to protect Kiara, I’ll do it. I want you to know that. By telling you this, I’m hoping you will realize that the most you can do for your daughter right now is have mercy. Don’t give my father a reason to become even angrier.”

The unicorn’s shoulders fell in a long sigh. When she hung her head again, I suspected my urgings were in vain and stood up. I didn’t want it to sound like I was threatening her—I truly wanted Kiara to come out of this alive. I did feel bad for Muriel, too, and would never endorse what the dragons intended to do. But my hands were tied. I just wished I could make her—or anyone—understand that.

I turned and started to head back to the haunting echoes of Sibyelle’s agonized screams, but then, Muriel’s voice rose behind me.

“Very well,” she said softly.

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