that sadistic Mistress he'd had. His eyes had been black, not from anger but from fear, and his lips drawn so tightly they were a pair of white slashes.
Having him with her had helped her get through the pain, though. And she'd needed any relief she could get. Doc Jane had advised against an epidural, as vampires could experience alarming decreases in blood pressure with them. So there had been no buffering at all.
Moving her to Havers's clinic was a no-go, because once the Pitocin had fired up her body, the labor had unexpectedly progressed too quickly for her to be taken anywhere. And as dawn was close, there was no way to get the race's physician to the training center in time...
Bella came back to the present and smoothed her hand over the thin pillow that rested on the gurney. She could remember holding on to Z's hand hard enough to break his bones as she'd strained until her teeth hurt and she'd felt as if she were getting ripped in half.
And then her vitals had crashed.
"Bella?"
She wheeled around. Wrath was in the PT suite's doorway, the king's huge body filling the space. With his hip-length black hair and his wraparound sunglasses and his black leathers, he seemed in his silent arrival like a modern-day version of the Grim Reaper.
"Oh, please, no," she said, gripping the gurney. "Please - "
"No, it's okay. He's okay." Wrath came forward and took her arm, holding her up. "He's been stabilized."
"Stabilized?"
"He has a compound fracture of his lower leg, and it's caused some bleeding."
Some being massive, she thought. "Where is he?"
"He was at Havers's, but he's being transported home right now. I figured you'd be worried, so I wanted to let you know."
"Thank you. Thank you..."
They had been having their problems lately, but still, the idea of losing him was catastrophic.
"Come here, Bella."
"No, I'm fine." The hell she was. "Really, I'm..."
"The hell you are. Consider it a royal decree if it lets your ego off the hook."
Bella smiled and gave up the fight. As she stepped into him, the king wrapped her in his huge arms and held her gently.
"Let the shakes go through you. You'll breathe easier that way, believe it or not."
She did as he suggested, loosening the rigid control she'd been exerting over her muscles. In response, her body shimmied from shoulders to calves, and she had to rely on the king's strength or she would have twitched her way right onto the floor.
Funny, though. He was right. Once the wobbles passed, she could take a deep breath or two.
When she'd become considerably more stable, she pulled back. Catching sight of the gurney, she frowned. "Wrath, may I ask you something?"
"Absolutely."
She had to pace a little before she could frame the question properly. "If Beth...if you and Beth had a baby, would you love the child as much as you love her?"
The king looked surprised. "Ah..."
"I'm sorry," she said. "That's none of my business - "
"No, it's not that. I'm trying to figure out the answer."
He reached up and lifted the glasses off his brilliant pale green eyes. As he thought for a while, he played with the wraparounds' slender arms, his blunt, strong fingers moving them back and forth, a little plasticky squeak rising up into the tiled room.
"Here's the thing... and I believe this is true for all bonded males. Your shellan is the beating heart in your chest. More than that, even. She's your body and your skin and your mind... everything you ever were and ever will be. So a male can never feel more for anyone than he does for his mate. It's just not possible - and I think there's some evolution at work. The deeper you love, the more you protect, and keeping your female alive at all costs means she can care for whatever young she has. That being said, of course you love your children. I think of Darius with Beth... He was desperate for her to be safe. And Tohr with John... and... yeah, I mean, you feel deeply for them, sure."
It was logical. But Zsadist wouldn't even pick Nalla up -
The double doors of the clinic bounced open as Z was wheeled in. He was dressed in a hospital johnny, no doubt because his clothes had had to be cut off him at Havers's clinic, and there was no color in his face at all. Both his hands were bandaged, and there was a cast on his lower leg.
He was out cold. More than that, he looked dead.
She rushed to his side and put her hand on his shoulder. "Zsadist? Zsadist?"
IVs and pills weren't always the best course of treatment for the injured. Sometimes all you needed was the touch of the one you loved and the sound of her voice and the knowledge that you were home, and suddenly you came back from the brink.
Z opened his eyes. The sapphire blue stare he met brought a gloss of tears to his own. Bella was leaning over him, her thick mahogany hair trailing off one shoulder, her classically boned face drawn in lines of worry.
"Hi," he said, because that was the best he could do.
He'd refused any pain meds at the clinic, because the sluggish effect of them always reminded him of the way he'd been drugged at the hands of the Mistress. So, with his busted leg and what had happened to his palms, he was in mind-bending agony. And yet just seeing Bella helped the pain so much.
"Hi." She smoothed her hand over his skull trim. "Hi..."
He looked around her to see who else was in the PT suite. Wrath was talking to Rhage in the corner next to the whirlpool bath, and Qhuinn, John, and Blay were standing in front of the banks of steel-and-glass cabinetry.
As the details of the room came into clear focus, he thought of the last time he'd been here.
The birth.
"Shhh..." Bella murmured, clearly mistaking the reason for his wince. "Just close your eyes and relax."
He did as he was told, because he was back on the brink and not because of how badly he was hurting.
God, that night when Nalla had been born... when he'd nearly lost his shellan...
Z squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to relive the past... or look too closely at the present. He was in danger of losing Bella. Again. And it was his fault. Again.
"I love you..." he whispered. "Oh, God, please don't leave me..."