***A/N: Hello all, this chapter is a bit different but I've been meaning to write it out for a while. I've wanted to dive into Elara's past and I know some of you have wanted to see what she has been through before as well. So I hope you like it. That being said, I feel I should put in a trigger warning. This chapter deals with loss and childbirth so reader beware! Let me know what ya think! ***

Everything was fuzzy, the air warm and thick with the smell of sweet cinnamon apples. It was familiar and my body was heavy with the comfort of it. My fingers crept over the warm threadbare quilt, searching for the heat and protection offered by the person who usually took up the other half of the bed. My eyes fluttered open when all I found was cool cotton, and I drew in the apple pie filled air disappointedly. I sat up on one elbow and looked around the cold empty room disappointedly. I wasn't used to waking alone, but then my mind supplied the reminder that I had only lied down for a nap. Stretching, my arms reached out above me, I rolled over — lowering my feet to the cold floor. My bare feet collided with the empty chamber pot and I grimaced, glad that Maria had emptied it the night before. I gently edged it under the bed with my toes and stood, walking over to the washstand in the corner. I felt sweaty and disgusting, having wrapped the quilt around myself even in the humid room. With a palm-covered yawn, I gathered the tattered piece of fabric from the hook and placed it over my arm. I picked up the white porcelain pitcher and poured water into the chipped basin in the center. After a quick wash, I slipped on my underdress and took a deep stifled breath — placing a hand on my distended stomach. "Maria!" I called.

The heavy oak door opened and my maid hurried in, her long black hair was tied up in an elegant bun under her hood. Her dark grey uniform was clean and well kept, something my husband was adamant about.

"My lady, you are not meant to be out of bed in your condition. The physician said so. The babe could come at any moment," she exclaimed, flocking around me worriedly.

Maria had been my constant companion; father had tasked her with my care at the moment of my birth. I was grateful for her ever protective and faithful friendship. Without her, I would have been lost amid my darker moments. The magic I had been gifted could be as much a curse as the one that promised my demise. There was good in it, like being able to discover that I was having a son before his birth, but there was also such sadness, like seeing those stuck in-between life and death. I was lucky to find Maria, she had been taught the old ways by her grandmother, so she had no reason to fear what I could see or do — and she was the only one I had trusted with my story.

Placing my palm on my lower stomach, I smiled softly at the pressure pressing against my hand as my son fluttered inside me. "Maria I am well. You and I both know that it's not yet my time. Today is not the day." I sadly pointed at my wardrobe. "Will you help me dress?" I asked. We both knew what tomorrow would bring, but I was doing my best to avoid it. I was terrified for the tiny being inside of me but didn't want to pull anyone else into my sadness. I thought it best to live in the moment.

Maria pulled her caustic brown eyes from my midsection, huffing irritably as she stomped toward my wardrobe, yanking open the double doors. "On your own head be it. It may not be your time, but what of the young sir's, hmm?" she scathingly remarked, brow cocked.

I bit my lip in discomfort, guilt pinking my cheeks. No matter what, Maria never let me give up. She wouldn't allow me to just sit back and wait to die with no regard for how my death would affect others. It was just what I did, it was my default setting after so many centuries and I very easily fell back into it. Thankfully, she was always here to remind me. I placed both hands on my stomach, regretfully closing my eyes.

"You are right, Maria. I apologize. I would never want anything to happen to my William. He is the best thing to have happened to me in centuries," I said, eyes teary.

Maria lifted a green velvet gown with voluminous ruffled sleeves from the wardrobe and carried it toward me, her pink lips pursed. "I do not expect an apology from you, Lady. I am at your service. Whether that be to speak sense into you or to help you sink into this ridiculous Italian gown. I am yours." the cheeky English woman said, her brown eyes rolling as she lifted the heavy gown.

I could only imagine how hard it must have been for Maria to journey so far from home, but there had no longer been a place for her in England — her family had all but died out during the smallpox outbreak — and so her father had sold her to mine during one of his earlier trips to Europe. He thought my mother would be taken with her fair skin and smooth accent, and she needed a maid to help her handle the business of being Lady of the manor, but my mother had found her prim and proper attitude exasperating. Maria and Mother had never seen eye to eye. So until I was born, Maria had helped in the kitchen.

Maria assisted me into my gown, pulling at the strings on the back until I gasped out, smacking at the air next to me. "Enough! I care not if it fits exactly as it should. I feel like a melon," I moaned, releasing the post in front of me and waddling away from the bed. I sat on the wooden stool beside the door and lifted my right foot as Maria sat in front of me. She helped me slip on my green shoes and I whined in discomfort. "I know not why Sebastian forces me to wear shoes. This is our home. Am I not Lady of the manor? Why must it matter that I remain properly dressed at all times?"

Maria giggled, smiling up at my contorted face. I all but growled at the sound of her bell-like laugh.

"Do you mock me?" I exclaimed, lowering my Choppine covered shoes with a wince. My emotions were scattered at the moment and my body felt like it had been trampled by a horse. Maria patted my knee as she stood, gently placing her hands on my shoulders.

"My my, someone is distressed. Come now, Lady, there is no need for such a display. I would never mock you. I was only amused. You are much like your mother was during her months with you," she said.

At the mention of my mother, my eyes burned with emotion and I sniffled, annoyed with myself. Maria's palm lowered on my cheek, caressing my face. "She loved you, Lady. She would have been proud of the match you made and the son you will bear him," she said.

Maria may not have enjoyed her time with my mother, but she had respected her as the Lady of the house and a woman who had loved her family with all she had. Losing my mother before I could even know her, left me hollow at times. She wasn't my only mother, but that mattered not. With each life, I was a little different, and the people I met and the emotions I garnered, shaped me. I would have to be a cold and heartless person for them to not. Perhaps that was a part of my curse, something Esther had expected and hoped would tear me apart, and further pull me away from her children — if time was ever kind enough to bring them all back to me.

"I do hope so, Maria," I said, wiping the cold wet tracks from my face.

Maria helped me stand, steadying my swaying body, and I inhaled deeply — catching the heady scent of apples again. Smiling widely, I started toward the door. "Take me to wherever that delicious smell is originating," I said, my mouth watering.

Maria glanced down at my midsection one more time, her sad eyes weary, and then forced a smile. She was trying for my sake, to give me a last day filled with happiness instead of one lying in a bed. If my son was to leave with me, then I would at least fill our stomachs with some good food.

Maria laughed behind me and I opened the door, stumbling slightly as I passed through. I pressed urgently at the side of my lower stomach when a strong pressure momentarily took my breath away. I stopped in my tracks, breathing deeply through my nose, eyes squeezed shut — and placed a steadying hand against the wall beside me. The deep, painful pressure only lasted a few moments before it stopped and I exhaled in relief — reaching behind me to rub at my lower back where I ached it the worst way. Maria stepped around me, her eyes wide, and I lowered mine - unable to keep her worried gaze.

"It appears that my son will not be joining me on my trip tomorrow, Maria," I said, filled with hope.

Maria took my elbow and turned me around, leading me back toward the bed. I scrunched up my nose at the idea that my last hours would be spent in bed but shook it off. My son would live! The curse wouldn't get him. What it would get, was my last days filled with pain and sorrow. Esther was pure evil.

Maria sat me on the bed, reaching for the strings of my gown, and I took hold of her arm tightly. I looked up at her, my eyes wide with pure pain-filled fear as the pressure returned — my stomach was tight, my back aching. I leaned toward her, gasping out a cry of agony. "Maria! You have to listen to me, please." I begged.

Maria placed her free hand on the one I was using to claim her arm and nodded, her lips parted as she took in a shocked breath. "I am listening, Lady. Im here, Tessa," she promised.

But it wasn't enough; it wasn't what I needed to hear her say. Hear her swear to me. "I need a vow, Maria. I need you to swear you will stay with William; protect him as you did me. You are the only one who knows me as I truly am. You must tell him why I was unable to stay with him as I wished to. Swear it!" I cried, pulling her against me. I lowered my head onto her stomach and heaved, my chest shaking as I freed myself of the agony. I wept for what I would never have, never witness. I wanted so badly to see my son grow, but it could never be. Maria's fingers traveled through my damp curls and she shushed me, rocking my aching body as she untied my gown.

"I would never leave the young sir. He will be loved as I love you, Lady. I will tell him stories of his incredible mother every day. He will know how much you love him. This I vow to you, Tessa Costilla," she whispered, helping me to step from my gown.

Tears fell from my eyes as she helped me lean against the pillows on my bed, brushing the hair from my tired eyes. "Thank you, Maria. Please show him my portrait. I don't want him to have a blank space where I belong. Let him know that he is my little miracle. One I never thought I would be granted." I tiredly spoke through the pain of another bout of pressure, my fingers gripping onto the quilt beneath me, twisting the fabric around my knuckles.

Maria nodded, and rose to her feet, glancing at the door. "I must alert Lord Sebastian so that he may retrieve the physician," she said, patting my hand and I released the quilt, my chest shaking as I gasped through the pain.

I closed my eyes against the pale orange glow pouring in through the window and waved her away. "My birthday isn't until tomorrow. The curse will not activate until the hour of my birth on my eighteenth birthday."

My tone was factual as if I were reading from a book, and I turned away to look out the window at the dying day. I could see Maria's throat constrict from the corner of my eye; her hands brushed her dress down, an action she often did to distract herself.

"Yes, ten a.m. How could I forget?" she said, sighing deeply.

I nodded, refusing to look directly at her, instead, I chose to look outside. I fought against the pains that continued to come and go. Maria left me alone after a few silent moments, and I let the tears fall uninhibited. I didn't want to show her anymore of my emotional pain. She had enough to deal with. She would be the one raising my son after all. A mother now to not only me but my son. I loved my husband, but he could not be the mother Willam would need.

The door scraped against the wood floor as it was shoved open, and suddenly, the other side of the bed was dipping as said sandy-haired husband engulfed me in a hug — his beard pleasantly scratching against my cheek. I gently pushed at his chest, my brow tense as my stomach tightened again. His grey eyes roamed my face fearfully, his hands cupping my cheeks.

"Tesoro, is the pain manageable?" he asked his fingertips tracing my jawline.

I basked in the comfort his thick Italian accent and constant affection offered. He had always shown me the love he felt, the love he said consumed him in my presence. From the moment we met, he had taken every opportunity to touch or be near me. At first, I had thought him to be ungentlemanly — he would always try to pull me away from my escort and into dark corners — then I realized that he genuinely felt a need to be alone with me, and only me when he offered my father a small fortune for my hand.

"I'll be fine. The pain is nothing I cannot handle," I said.

Sebastian took my hands, pulling me forward, and I moaned in pleasure as he started to rub my shoulders and back. "My papa told me that a woman enjoys a soothing rub at the beginning of childbirth," he smiled.

I moaned again, something between agreement and thankfulness. Sebastian laughed, his hands falling onto my stomach, and his eyes shined. "Our child will be here soon, and just think, you may share a birthday. The two most important people in my life, born on the same day."

His glowing smile almost blinded me and broke my heart in two. I took hold of his white ruffled shirt and pulled him closer, gently kissing his soft plump lips. "I am so glad you are excited, but I think I would be more comfortable if we had everything ready. Is the physician on his way?" I grimaced, patting his chest.

I wanted to be prepared for the worst. I had a son to protect. Sebastian scooted closer to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. "I sent Roberto to town. They should both be here within the hour," he said.

Satisfied, I tried to focus on my breathing as the sky darkened outside. The countdown had begun.

I was genuinely shocked by how quickly the following hours sped by. I wasn't sure if it was the pain or the curse preparing to activate, but everything leading up to Williams's birth was a complete blur. I couldn't even fathom what the hour was, or if I was about to be led to my end. I could see the horrified fear in Maria's eyes as she stood a few feet away. She was stiffly staring at the window and the daylight pouring inside. My hands gripped onto my sweaty knees, teeth-gritting together as I stared down at the dark hair of the man between my thighs. He was frantically yelling at me to push, as he tried to maneuver the baby around inside me, but I was so weak. My body was tired and I could feel the need to give in, to give up. Sebastian had been asked to leave hours ago — when the physician realized this wouldn't be an easy birth. My head fell back, my wet hair clinging to my overheated body, and I could hear Maria sob as her steps carried her toward the window. My chest tightened, and I felt something twist in my mind. It felt like I was falling, deep otherworldly darkness surrounding me. I could still see the light somewhere above me, still hear the sound of the frantic physician, but I couldn't reach them. I tried so hard, my hands reaching out, grasping at nothing as I continued to fall into the pit of my own mind, but it was useless. I felt my head lurch as I landed, my body seizing, and I watched the light above me, unable to move or speak.

I could see the physician, his eyes were red as he pulled away from me, shaking his head. "She is bleeding out. There is no hope for her, but I still may be able to save the baby. I must cut into her," he said.

I could hear the heavy, gut-wrenching sobs of Maria somewhere beside me. She must have agreed with him because he rushed away and I could hear the door being pulled open, there was the wince-inducing sound of wood scraping against wood — and after a few moments — Sebastian's horrified distraught cries.

The physician slowly approached my body and looked down at me. "She isn't conscious, Lord Costilla. It may appear as if she is, but the blood loss has already taken her away," he said.

I was grateful that his knowledge had led him to the wrong conclusion. I didn't want my husband realizing how trapt I really was. Sebastian appeared in my line of vision, and if I could, I would have cried. His face was red and blotchy, eyes wide and glassy.

"Do what you must; save our child," he said, his voice thick. He leaned down, kissing my sweaty forehead and I felt a warm wetness fall on my face. "I will love you forever, Tesoro."

He quickly pulled away, not bothering to wipe away the proof of his sadness, and nodded at the man next to him. I saw the sharp, gleaming, knife before I felt it, and prepared myself for what was to come. I didn't care, whatever it took to save my son. The man lowered the blade to my flesh and I could hear the scrapping of wood as the door closed. I didn't blame Sebastian for leaving. This wasn't something I wanted him to witness.

The blade ripped into my flesh with a familiar firey pain that took my breath away. I could hear my skin tear, a sickening sound that had Maria covering her mouth in disgusted sympathy. I could feel a warm waterfall of liquid spill over the body I no longer controlled, and my ears thrummed, the sound around me fading — almost as if I were underwater. The pain carried to my legs, and there was the sensation of tiny needles stabbing me over and over again. My breathing started to become labored; each inhale harder to come by. Of course, since I could still feel, I could also still taste and recognized the flavor of blood on my tongue.

The light above me faded in and out and I could sense death approaching; like an old friend just outside the door. As the world started to fade to black, a sharp wail snapped everything back into focus. I clung to the small hint of light above me, it was wavering in and out, like water disturbed by touch. I tried to lift my arm, to take back control of my dying body, but the curse wouldn't let me. I wanted to scream, to beg Esther for this one small moment. I just wanted to see my son! At this moment I would willingly offer her anything to only be able to hold him, but it was impossible. I knew, at this time, she had no control over my curse. That what it was capable of had been put into place long ago. Yet, my mind cried out to her for the first time since she had burned me alive, her sickly sweet voice laughing in my head as she revealed what she had done to me. I begged, groveled, and pleaded to no avail. It was hopeless. My son was just out of reach as the man who had ripped me open to save him kept his back turned. William continued to cry out for me; it was the most beautiful and heart-wrenching sound in the universe.

My world began to fade to black again and I started to panic. I fought against it with all I had. I just wanted to see him. Just let me see him! As if Maria could sense I wasn't yet gone, she rushed over to the physician and grabbed William from his arms. I could just make out the tiny cloth-covered bundle as she hurriedly carried him toward me. With her red-rimmed eyes planted on my son, she lowered him to my wide, seemingly unseeing eyes.

"Tessa, this is your son William. I will do as I vowed. You may rest now," she cried her nose as red as her eyes.

My fading world zeroed in on Willam. He had a small patch of hair on his perfect little head, the same sandy color as his fathers. His blue eyes were partially closed, but I could still make out the dark blue peeking through the lids. I was positive they would someday change to grey. It would be another thing he shared with his father. I found I minded very little that he had taken after Sebastian. His tiny fists were clenched tightly and held close to his puffy cheeks. I loved him instantly. Maria held him close to her chest, protecting him as promised. I knew she was right; I could let go now. She had made her vow and I trusted her to keep it. I kept my focus on William as the light wavered, his blue eyes would be the last thing I saw in this life. My William. How I loved him.

I cried out, my chest shaking as I bolted forward, the book I held tumbling to the floor. I clutched my fisted hands to my heaving chest and felt the tears spill from my eyes. My entire body was trembling as the memory faded. It was a time in my life I had chosen to keep buried deep beneath the rest. What had dug it up? I ran my fingers through my tangled hair and roughly shook my head, hoping the memories of my son would scatter like leaves on the wind. This was what happened when I burned myself out. I was taking too much on. I was exhausted, and now that I had a pack of wolves - and the Lockwoods - to protect there was even less time for me to handle my own needs. I had already spent my morning with Elijah feeding and clothing ten wolves freshly rehumanized. They were now living in a house Elijah had purchased for me just outside of town. Thankfully he was taking the initiative to help. Of course, he knew if he didn't I would do it all alone. My cheeks expanded as I exhaled, releasing some of the mounting tension that was covering me. The squeak of the kitchen door swinging open had me rushing to wipe the wet tracks from my face. Jenna's blonde hair spilled over her shoulder as she ambled into the room, a plate of apple pie in her hand.

"Hey Ellie, would you like a piece? It's fresh out of the oven. Yum!" she happily hummed, bringing the plate close to her nose.

My nose twitched, taking in the apple and cinnamon scented room. Of course. My memory had been triggered by a stupid pie while I was weakened by sleep. Fucking pie. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, shaking my head, and trying to produce a semi-believable smile.

"Nah, Jenna. I'm good. Thanks though, smells…memorable," I said.

Aunt Jenna, snickered, her brow raised in question. With a shrug, she ignored my odd attitude and sat down at the table. "Your loss," she smiled.

A pounding on the front door gave me just the distraction I needed, and I quickly stood, rushing towards the quickest way to forget the past; dealing with the present. I yanked open the door and narrowed my eyes on the pale, terrified Lockwoods. Mason and Tyler hovered in front of me, their eyes darting around as if they were searching for threats.

"We need to talk," Tyler said, the faintest hint of excitement hidden in his fear.

This would do just fine.