Page 58 of Broken Pregnant Mate
“What?” Emin asks, turning to Oren just as he reaches them. Emin’s voice is tight as he asks, “Then who—”
“Whoindeed.”
We all turn, like onlookers at a tennis match, to see a woman standing at the front of the room on a little balcony. The railing around the space is gilded, and she’s wearing a brilliant green dress, diamonds dripping from her ears, her gray hair glinting in the light of the chandelier, the underlying tone a dark copper.
And around her shoulders is a breathtaking, midnight black pelt.
Emin lets out a shocked breath, his voice choked. “Mom?”
Oren’s entire body is shaking as he stares up at the woman, registering the pelt around her shoulders, and where it came from.
She raises her hand to Emin. “Hi, honey. Sorry about this.”
Then, with a single swipe of her hand, Mhairi cuts the rope holding the chandelier above our heads. It crashes to theground in an astonishing clatter, the glass shattering, candles sputtering out, and melting wax everywhere.
It smells sweet, oddly, and when the dust settles, I bite back a laugh, turning to look up at the woman staring down at us—Emin and Kira’s mother. Mhairi Argent.
“Really?” I ask, waving away the smoke, glancing across the room to see Dorian already pushing through the crowd, his eyes locked on a way to get up to her, rip her to pieces. “That was your big plan?”
“No,” she laughs, her eyes twinkling as she looks down at me. “You were never a part of my plan, I have to admit—whoever put together that head did a bang-up job. I never suspected for a second. Even the decomposition was spot-on.”
She tilts her head at me, and I ignore the way my stomach tightens in response. How could a woman like this have created a person like Kira? Like Emin?
“My real plan should go into effect just before Mr. Fields here can race up this staircase and get his claws in my throat.”
Like clockwork, Dorian falls to his knees, gasping for air, his face thick with pain.
“What—” Emin starts, but then he’s on his knees too, letting out a choked wail.
Like dominoes, whatever is happening hits me next, but it must hit me harder.
I’m still worn out from my fight with Jerrod, sick from the taste of his sour blood in my mouth, so when I feel it—my Amanzite burning a hole into the very center of me—it only lasts a moment before I crumple to the ground.
Chapter 26 - Emaline
Ash and I get to the ballroom’s doorway just in time to see the woman on the balcony—whom I’m assuming is Mhairi Argent—throwing her head back in laughter.
“The chandelier,” Ash gasps, and I realize that must be what we heard earlier, the giant crash. But it’s not just glass and wax crashed to the shining marble floor—it’s a strange pink substance, rising up, floating around the space like a shimmering, cloudy haze.
On the floor, amidst the pink mist, shifters writhe in agony, some half-transformed into wolf forms, their bodies caught in grotesque positions between human and beast.
“What's happening to them?” I gasp, clutching the bag of Amanzite stones tighter.
Ash's face is pale with horror. “The stones—look at them.”
I follow her gaze and see it—the Amanzite stones in various shifters' pockets or hands are pulsing with an unnatural purple light, seeming to burn the skin they touch. Dark veins spread outward from each point of contact, like poison through a bloodstream.
My eyes frantically search the room until I spot him—Aidan, on his knees, near the far side. There’s something pink and grotesque just beyond him, but I don’t focus on that. All I can see is my mate, his face contorted in pain as he tries to pull off the ring around his finger.
Behind me, I hear Ash going to Dorian, and I distantly register her voice rising, shouting something about Oren.
“Aidan!” I scream, racing toward him, dodging fallen bodies, heart pumping harder than it ever has in my life.
I fall to my knees beside him, dropping my bag of stones. Hands shaking, I dump the small cloth bag of Amanzite and grab his ring with the fabric, yanking it from his finger and dropping it, with a clatter, to the floor. I watch as the black veins start to disappear, and Aidan is able to catch his breath.
Leaning down, I cup my hands around his cheeks. He flinches at first, like I might be here to hurt him, but then he seems to realize it’s me.
“Emaline?” he breathes, blinking at me as the last of the black on his face recedes.
