Manon's Child

Part 24

Elide's POV

With a start, Lorcan lets out a surprised grunt and a moment later is pulling out of me. I squeak in protest at the unexpectedness, wanting more still, not done yet. But instead of coming back at my summons, Lorcan snaps the door shut with a blast of his power, hurriedly shoving his clothes on.

"What's wrong?" I ask, sitting up. The anger and annoyance in his face douses the want in me, especially as he growls, muttering wordlessly. "Did I do something wrong?" I ask, this whole sex thing still relatively new to me.

There must be worry in my voice because Lorcan comes over, half-dressed, and cups my face in his hand. His face has softened completely as he sits next to me and hugs me to him. "Of course not, Elide," he says, kissing me again. I almost pull his back onto me, but he says, "Manon is awake, and fully aware of what we were doing."

I jerk away, going bright red. I pull away from my mate, his words as effective as a bucket of cold water, and shove on my clothes as quickly as possible, forfeiting my bra in my embarrassed rush.

A moment later, I slip out of the room, Lorcan on my heels. Manon is standing next to my mother's vase, full of my favourite flowers, watching us with an unreadable expression on her face.

Now that she's slept, she looks slightly less washed out, having somehow managed to plait her tangled hair. Colour has returned to her face, though it's nothing compared to the heat I can feel still on my cheeks.

"Manon," I say, my voice stupidly breathless, She gives me an assessing look, taking in everything. Lorcan is a solid force at my back, loving hands on my shoulders. But, thankfully, our activities aren't the first thing she asks me about.

"Where's Abraxos?" Manon demands, concern in her voice.

"Last seen on the roof, witch," Lorcan growls frostily. "What are you doing here?"

I hit him gently at the ice in his voice. "Manon is welcome here," I tell him. "Always. Go get some tea or something."

"Elide! I'm not your servant —"

"Go!"

Lorcan, obviously deciding not to fight this particular battle, levels sullenly. He looks just like a teenage boy, slinking off to his bedroom while the adults talked. The comparison brought a small smile to Elide's face.

As soon as the corridor door shuts behind him, Manon visibly relaxes. She sinks down onto the fancy sofa she had just been sleeping on, her head in her hands. I come over, sitting down beside her.

"Lorcan told me you're pregnant," I say, unsure of what else she might've come here for but that. "Congratulations."

"I don't want congratulations," Manon says quietly, head still in her hands.

"Well, what do you want?"

"Not this," Manon pauses, and I wait for her to elaborate. "I don't want to be pregnant. Not now."

"So abort," I reply, as though it's simple, though I know it's not.

"How dare you suggest such a preposterous thing!" Manon hisse, head snapping up, those golden eyes pinning on my face. She's snarling softly, but she stops quickly. I must look alarmed, as Manon's face goes immediately from anger to guilt. "Sorry. I just - I don't know how to react to this whole thing."

"I get it," I say, though I don't. "Why come here though? Are the witches ok?"

The witches are fine. Busy rebuilding." Manon's voice lights up at the mention of her city, though it seems she doesn't notice. But her face darkens as she looks up at me and says, "I came here because... well, I didn't know where else to go."

"What about Dorian?" I ask. Silence. A thought strikes me. "Dorian is the father, isn't he?"

"Yes," Manon says slowly, though she says nothing else. 

Another chilling thought hits me. "And Dorian does know, doesn't he?"

There's silence, then Manon starts crying. I am extremely alarmed. Manon never cries. Not once have I seen her so distraught.

"Manon," I cry out. "What's the matter?"