I instinctively held my son tighter. “What are you trying to do?”
“How can I trust Ethan to stay with you when you’re in this state?” Kurt’s voice was cold.
“No.” I staggered back. “He is my son. I will not be separated from him.”
Kurt’s gaze hardened into ice. He tore Ethan from my arms. The little one wailed, claws curling, ears pressed flat in fear.
“Give him back to me!” I reached for them, but Kurt kicked me aside. My waist slammed into the sharp corner of a stone chest, and a strangled cry escaped me.
For a moment, Kurt’s back stiffened, but he never turned around. He lifted Zelda gently and left the cavern… carrying my child.
The door shut. Darkness swallowed me whole.
When consciousness returned, everything was washed in pale white.
The ceiling of our den.
I turned my head. Kurt sat beside me. He stirred the moment I moved and brushed a hand across my cheek. “You’re awake. Do you feel unwell?”
“I…” My throat scraped like sand. No sound came out at first.
Kurt quickly pressed a cup of heated springwater to my lips. “You were unconscious for a full day and night. Why didn’t you tell me your blood-essence drops so easily? I was terrified when you collapsed.”
His concern looked real. His voice gentle.
Gentle enough to almost make me forget he had locked his mate and their child inside a storage cavern to suffocate.
Almost.
A day and a night.
Only four more days. Then I would be gone.
I forced myself upright. “Where is Ethan?”
He pressed me back into the furs. “Don’t worry. Zelda is tending to him.”
“What?” My heart clenched. I shoved him away and stood.
Kurt seized my wrist and threw me back onto the bedding. “What are you doing?” His jaw tightened, as if holding back rage. “Yvonne, you need rest.”
Fear and fury surged hot through my veins. “You left my child with Zelda. How do you expect me to rest?”
“Yvonne!” Kurt erupted, pacing beside the bed, then snapping, “Why are you so hostile toward Zelda? You two used to get along.”
“Yes,” I laughed, bitter and cracked. “I once treated her like a sister. But what did she do? Have you ever asked? Have you ever cared to know?”
“You—”
A woman’s scream burst from the next chamber.
Then a baby’s cry—raw, choking, desperate.
I shoved Kurt out of the way and sprinted into the nursery hollow.
The sight froze my blood.
Ethan lay on his back, his tiny chest heaving, his face burning red as he coughed and gagged. Curled milk—too thick, too sweet—covered his cheeks, his chest, the bedding beneath him.
Zelda stood off to the side, wiping her tunic with a cloth, her face twisted in irritation, not concern.
I swept Ethan into my arms, patting his back, trying to clear his airway. As I pressed him close, I saw angry red welts blooming across his forehead and chest.
A reaction. A strong one.
Kurt turned to Zelda first. “What happened?”
I demanded, “Zelda, what did you feed him?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. Only some clan-milk mash.”
Kurt immediately wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Why are you blaming her? She is still just a girl.”
I stared at him, disbelief clawing through me. “You trusted her with Ethan? Did you check if he reacts to mountain-milk? Did you even look at him when you walked in?”
“Enough!” Kurt roared, the sound rattling the cavern walls. “Zelda did her best to care for him. And you? You only ever find fault.”
“Yvonne, your jealousy, your bitterness… it disgusts me.”
