Chapter 22 Two Goodbyes
Aelira’s POV
O Get S
The antiseptic tang of Aethervale Hospital clings to the back of my throat, conjuring ghosts I’m not ready to face. Just weeks ago, I watched my mother die in one of these sterile rooms. Now I’m here for another kind of loss–one I choose, and yet one that tears at me all the same.
“Are you sure about this?” Oriana’s hand is warm around mine, a tether keeping me from drifting away as we sit in the harshly lit waiting area outside reproductive health.
I nod, jaw tight, fighting to keep my face blank. “I have to be.”
My thoughts flicker back to the night Alarion and I first mated–how desperately I had longed for his pups, how proud I was when, after years of failed hope, I finally conceived. Now that old dream is twisted, poisoned. Something I can’t let root inside me.
“I just can’t let him keep me chained forever through a child,” I say, my voice a low rasp. “I can’t.”
Inside me, my wolf whimpers, protective and confused. She doesn’t understand mate bonds or severance, lawyers or custody wars. She understands only that we carry a pup, that life is sacred and part of us.
“It’s the best way,” Oriana says, but there’s a shadow of doubt in her eyes. “A clean break. You need it.”
A nurse calls my name. Oriana rises with me–she refused to let me do this alone, and the gratitude I feel for her is so fierce
it hurts.
“Ms. Sunmere?” The nurse hands me a clipboard, her smile practiced, impersonal. “Please fill these out before your
consultation.”
My hand shakes as I take the pen, each line an accusation. Name. Address. Medical history. Every box makes me face the reality of what I’m about to surrender.
Previous pregnancies: None.
Reason for visit: Termination of pregnancy.
Black letters, cold as a slap.
“Avelira?”
I jerk my head up to see Dr. Nyven Leyric striding toward us, his presence a sudden jolt. I haven’t seen him since my mother’s funeral. My heart rattles as I shield the forms with my arm.
“Dr. Leyric,” I manage, forcing a brittle smile. “I didn’t expect-”
He studies me with gentle concern. “I could say the same. Are you unwell?”
“Just a stomach bug,” lie, clutching the paperwork to my chest.
Oriana steps in, her voice brisk. “We should get going. Don’t want to be late for our appointment.”
Dr. Leyric nods, but doubt lingers in his eyes. “Of course. Take care, Aelira. If you need anything-
“Thank you,” I say quickly, dragging Oriana toward the elevator.
As the doors close, relief rushes out of both of us.
“That was close,” Oriana mutters. “Isn’t he friends with Daelor?”
I nod, sick with anxiety. “If he finds out and tells Daelor-”
“He won’t,” Oriana says. “Doctor–patient confidentiality. He can’t.”
But my wolf is restless, pacing beneath my skin. She doesn’t want to be here. She doesn’t want to end this life. Her confusion only amplifies my own uncertainty, my guilt.
The consultation room is small, impersonal, walls painted a non–color meant to soothe. The doctor–a woman with weary
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eyes and a kind mouth–scans my paperwork, recognition flickering over her face.
“Ms. Sunmere. I remember you from fertility consults,” she says, voice devoid of judgment, only matter–of–fact. “You’ve been trying to conceive for some time.”
I swallow, forcing the word out. “Yes.”
She gestures gently to the exam table. “Let’s do an ultrasound to confirm gestation.”
The gel is icy on my skin. She moves the wand over my belly, and the soft roar of my pup’s heartbeat fills the room. I go still, breath caught on the edge of a sob.
“There,” she points, showing me a minuscule bean–shaped shadow on the monitor. “About six weeks. Everything looks healthy.”
My hand lifts, almost involuntarily, fingers aching to touch the screen. My wolf howls with grief and instinct, desperate to protect what’s ours.
“That’s–That’s my pup?” My voice is a whisper.
“Yes,” the doctor says. “Right now, vital organs are forming. By twelve weeks, they’ll be complete. By fifteen, your pup will start showing their wolf characteristics.”
Tears blur my vision as I imagine it–the tiny life growing, becoming something part wolf, part me. Part Alarion.
“Given your fertility history,” the doctor says softly, “are you certain about this?
My resolve buckles as I stare at the tiny shape on the screen. “I’m seeking a mate bond severance,” I say, voice cracking. “The father- It’s complicated.”
Her features soften, understanding in the lines around her eyes. “I see. Before we proceed, I’d like to run a few more tests. Your previous treatments may affect the process.”
She steps out as her phone rings, apologizing as she leaves Oriana and me alone with the image frozen on the screen.
Suddenly the room is suffocating. I can’t look away from that little form–the heartbeat, the promise.
“Am I doing the right thing?” I ask, voice trembling, barely audible.
Oriana moves closer, her arm a shield around my shoulders. “Only you know, Aelira.”
“I wanted this for so long,” I confess, tears spilling. “Years of treatments, herbs, prayers. Now that I finally have a pup, I’m throwing it away.”
“You’re not throwing anything away,” Oriana says, strong and steady. “You’re making the least–worst decision in an impossible situation. No one would blame you.”
“My wolf blames me,” I whisper. “She doesn’t understand why we’re here.”
Oriana sighs. “Your wolf only sees the pup. She doesn’t see what Alarion would do. The custody fights, the control, the way he’d use your child to keep you in his life forever.”
She’s right. Alarion would never let me go if I had his heir–he’d use our child as a collar, a leash. Cyrinne would be there too, always lurking, always hungry for what’s mine.
“I’m sorry, little one,” I murmur, palm pressed gently to my stomach. “Maybe in another lifetime, with different parents, we’ll find each other again.”
The doctor returns, face composed and professional. “Sorry for the interruption. Regarding the procedure-”
“How soon can you do it?” I ask, voice barely steady.
She glances at my file, her brow creasing. “Ms. Sunmere, we need to discuss something first.”
She wheels her chair closer, her eyes serious. “Given your fertility history and your wolf’s reaction to past treatments, termination carries significant risks.”
“What kind of risks?” Oriana asks when I can’t find the words
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“There’s a high probability–about sixty percent–that the procedure will result in permanent infertility.”
The words hit like a blow to the chest. Permanent. Never another pup. My wolf keens in my mind, the sound raw and
endless
“The trauma to your body and your wolf’s weakened fertility create a dangerous equation,” the doctor continues quietly. “If you go through with this today, you may never conceive again. Not as a human, not as a wolf.”
I can’t breathe. My hands curl around my belly, helpless.
“Is there any alternative?” I manage to ask.
The doctor nods. “I’d recommend these medications to stabilize the pregnancy while you consider. Come back in a week We’ll reassess then.”
She writes a prescription, presses it into my numb fingers. I take it without really seeing.
Oriana thanks her and steers me out, one arm strong around my waist. I move like a sleepwalker, prescription crumpled in my fist.
“It’s okay,” she whispers, guiding me down the hall. “You have time. No one can rush you.”
We’re almost at the elevator when Oriana abruptly tugs me into a side corridor, pressing me against the wall.
“What-“I start, but she hushes me with a finger to her lips, nodding toward the OB/GYN reception area.
A woman stands at the counter, face half–hidden behind oversized sunglasses and a scarf knotted tight around her hair. But I know that posture, that rigidly perfect stance, that arrogant tilt of the chin.
Cyrinne Wynthor.
“What is she doing here?” I breathe.
“In the OB/GYN department?” Oriana raises an eyebrow, her meaning unmistakable.
We watch as Cyrinne collects some paperwork from the desk and walks briskly toward the exit, never noticing us sheltered in the shadows.
“Do you think she’s… The words stick in my throat, impossible to finish,
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