I'd finally chosen something for myself—recklessly, I'd jumped into the deep sea to wash away my wretched life. But I didn't know if this was fate's cruelty or its mercy. I'd survived. Met a kind man who told me I could start over. Could I finally shed my hybrid identity? Could I exist in this world for the first time, pure and unmarred?
Tears slid past my temples into my hair. I bit my lip to keep from sobbing, but more tears blurred my vision. I was like a rat fleeing in disgrace—pitying myself, pathetic, just hoping fate wouldn't find me again.
But I couldn't escape. I was pregnant.
This was Kayden's and my child. Diana had been right.
My hand pressed against my stomach, as if I could feel the tiny life growing there. Greater despair threatened to crush me. This should have been the blessed fruit of fated mates—
"I, Kayden Blackwood, reject Layla Gray as my mate."
Diana let out a weak whimper at the painful memory. It was the final straw.
I couldn't keep this baby. I couldn't.
I couldn't hold back anymore. I buried my face in my hands and wept.
Layla, he already rejected you. So brutally. So coldly. How can you bring this child into the world for a man who never loved you?
But what if the baby looks like him? What if he has those silver eyes too? What if he's as brave, as resilient, as clever as his father?
Stop it! This is just your selfish desire! You'd bring him into a world with no love at all?!
But what if he wants to live?
"It's a strong little fighter—the doctor said that even though you're quite weak, the baby seems determined to survive."
Robert's words circled my mind endlessly, long after my tears had run dry and the hospital lights burned my eyes. I wrapped the blanket tighter around myself, curling into a ball, as if that could ward off the cold inside me.
Then I made my decision.
"I will love you. I promise I'll love you." I stroked my stomach gently, as if there were already a beating heart inside.
I would bring him into this world.
The nine months of pregnancy were the hardest of my life.
The physical changes brought new miseries every day. Morning sickness, swelling, back pain... every pregnancy symptom found me.
But worse was the mental torture.
Every time I felt him move, I wondered: who would this child look like? Would he have Kayden's silver eyes? My chestnut hair?
After he was born, how would I explain why he had no father?
How could I tell him his mother was just an abandoned mate?
I don't remember much about the pain in the delivery room. I only remember when the nurse placed a tiny, wrinkled baby in my arms—I cried.
He opened hazy silver eyes and looked at me, his little hand gripping my finger tight.
"He's healthy," the nurse smiled. "A beautiful boy."
I looked at this tiny life in my arms and suddenly understood what Robert had meant.
I had to live well.
Being a new mother was harder than I'd ever imagined.
