High Voltage: A fantasy fated mate romance (The Queen’s Court, Book 4)
High Voltage: Chapter 18

AFTER MY UNSUCCESSFUL BID for freedom, I’m locked in my room. I’m not allowed out in the common areas, and the girls aren’t permitted to come in here. I miss their companionship, their friendship. The guards deliver my meals through a slot in the door, and the food remains plentiful, but I’ve lost my appetite. I continue to eat regularly, though, for the sake of the babies.

I’ve been in solitary confinement for almost a week. Halloween has to be any day now. Even though Ash still talks to me daily through the bond, he must be starting to consider the possibility that I’m dead. How could he not after all of this time? I fell off the face of Earthside without a trace. He must be so worried, be in so much pain. I hate thinking of him and Archer mourning me. I know how I’d feel if the roles were reversed. If I thought he was gone, I’d be inconsolable.

As shitty as it is to be held prisoner, at least I know I’m alive and currently well, and so are the babies. Ash doesn’t even know about them. It kills me that he doesn’t have a clue about his impending fatherhood. He’d be so fucking happy.

Since the beginning of my recent tighter lockdown, I’ve been having a recurring nightmare. I think it’s some kind of signal from my subconscious telling me the end is near. In the terrifying dream, I’m pacing around my room when the floor disappears from under me and I fall. Despite my efforts to twist and turn to make sure I land on my back to protect the twins, I land on my stomach. I wake up just as I hit the ground, clutching my belly and drenched in sweat.

This morning, I’m lying in my bed, reliving the nightmare, when a small orb is dropped into my room through the slot in the door. It floats in the air for a moment and then begins spinning as it fizzes and releases a blue gas into the air. The orb’s actions remind me of a bath bomb dropped into a tub of water.

Sitting up, I scuttle toward the headboard, moving as far away from the orb as possible. The blue gas quickly fills the room, and I grab a sheet to cover my mouth. My eyelids become heavy, and I sag into the corner of the bed, bringing my knees up under the white nightgown to protect my precious cargo.

Through closing eyes, I watch the orb spin in the opposite direction and suck the gas back out of the room. When all the gas is gone, my door opens, and Elle and Franco enter my room, followed by two guards.

In an attempt to use my power and ward them off, I try to raise my hands, but my arms won’t obey. One of the guards approaches the bed and lifts me into a wheelchair pushed into the room by the second guard. I’m a hostage in my own body, but I can hear everything they’re saying as they wheel me down the hall.

“The paralysis inducement seems to be working,” Franco says.

“Do you still doubt my witch magic after all this time?” Elle responds, an impatient edge to her normally singsong voice.

They wheel me into a very bright room, the light penetrating my eyelids. The guards hoist me onto a table, pull my arms out wide and strap them down.

“The fetuses are still quite small. They may not survive if you take them now,” the doctor says, his voice slightly muffled as if he’s wearing a mask.

“I can’t wait any longer. Halloween is tomorrow. I need her blood now,” Elle says, the urgency in her tone escalating.

“Halloween will come around again next year. Let’s wait until they’re full term,” Franco says. “I don’t care what happens to her. I just want one of the babies.”

“I can’t wait until next year. Next year will be too late. The position in the Stirling cover is open now. We made a deal. Besides, I’m not giving her another chance to escape. I can’t believe she found the portal. I had to move it.” The rising pitch of Elle’s voice reeks of desperation.

“The fetuses have a fair chance of survival at this point, probably sixty to seventy percent. It all depends on their lung development.” The doctor provides the statistic without emotion.

“Get started. I want this over with,” Elle says.

“Do you want me to give her an epidural first, to numb her lower body?” the doctor asks.

“No, I want her to feel everything, every cut. I want her to feel the pain of losing a child,” Franco answers. “A pain she made me feel acutely.”

“I’m going to kill her anyway, so there isn’t much point. Just get it done,” Elle says in agreement.

Weakly, I move my arms against the restraints as the doctor cleans my stomach with a cool fluid.

“First, I’ll make a horizontal incision in the top layer of skin. Then I’ll cut through the fat and fascia. Next, I’ll move the muscles of her abdomen and her internal organs—bladder and intestines—out of the way so I can get to the uterus.” The doctor’s tone is mechanical, as if he’s giving a lecture and not about to cut me wide open.

“Just remove her organs if it’s quicker. She has no further use for them. The paralysis spell is going to wear off soon, so hurry up. Don’t do anything to control her bleeding. Just make sure to capture the blood so I have it,” Elle says.

The paralysis spell is wearing off, and I’m able to crack open my eyes to see Elle and Franco staring down at me like a couple of starving wolves. They don’t just want to kill me and steal my children; they want to torture me first. Make my final moments a living hell. The spell continues to weaken, and I can move my arms. For an instant, I consider sliding my arms out of the restraints and lashing out with my power, killing us all. But that would kill my babies too, and I can’t do it. They have a chance at life, and I have to believe that somehow Ash will discover their existence and rescue them.

Opening the mate bond one more time, I send Ash a final message. Being your mate has been the summer of my life. I wouldn’t change a single second. Please know I did my best to keep our children safe. I couldn’t love you more. I’ll watch over you all. I promise.

To my babies, I whisper aloud, “Mommy and Daddy love you.” I murmur this like a mantra over and over as my breath comes fast and the cold steel of a scalpel presses low on my abdomen.

Then nothing.

“What the fuck?” Franco shouts.

“What’s happening?” Elle yells.

I’m gone.