Chapter 46 Keep the Baby
Aelira’s POV
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While I wait with Oriana outside the hospital, I catch sight of Daelor
approaching from the parking lot. My heart leaps, but I soon sense
something is amiss.
Blood stains his right sleeve, forming a troublingly large patch of crimson
against the light fabric. His face is etched with pain, yet he strides forward
with determination.
“Daelor, you’re bleeding!” I shout, urgently moving closer. “What’s wrong?”
He seems to disregard my question, his silver–gray eyes scanning my
figure from top to bottom. His jaw is tense, and for a fleeting moment, I
feel like prey being evaluated by a predator. My wolf stirs uncomfortably
beneath my skin.
After what feels like an eternity, his rigid stance relaxes. Whatever he was
looking for seems found.
“It’s nothing,” he eventually replies, his voice gravelly. “Just a scratch.”
“That hardly looks like ‘nothing‘ to me,” I counter, waving my hand toward
his bloodstained sleeve. “You need to get that checked out.”
Before he can reply, Dr. Nyven Leyric strides through the hospital doors, his
white coat billowing behind him.
“There you are!” he exclaims, relief evident in his voice. “Why haven’t your been answering your calls? I’ve been trying to reach you for an hour!”
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Daelor retrieves his mobile phone from his pocket–or what remains of it. The screen is completely shattered.
“That makes sense,” he remarks with a grimace. “What’s the situation?”
Dr. Leyric shakes his head in response. “False alarm. The enforcer is okay
-just some minor bruises. Nothing serious.”
Oriana steps closer, confusion evident on her face. “Hold on, what ‘pack member‘? What’s happening?”
Dr. Leyric checks her expression, then looks at me, seemingly realizing
we’re not informed about what’s going on.
“One of Daelor’s enforcers sustained what looked like a serious injury
during training,” he clarifies. “I called Daelor when they arrived, but was
unable to get through to him.”
“And you rushed over here with your own injury?” I inquire, once again
pointing to his bloodied arm.
He shrugs, flinching a bit at the gesture. “That occurred during a territory
patrol. It’s nothing too serious.”
I frown, convinced he’s not telling the truth. The cut looks significant, and
judging by the blood, it requires immediate care.
“At least let Dr. Leyric examine it while you’re here,” I insist.
“It’ll heal,” Daelor replies nonchalantly.
Dr. Leyric moves a bit closer, sharing a meaningful look with Daelor. “The
enforcer is asking for you. They’re in Room 307.”
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Daelor nods, his demeanor softening slightly with what appears to be
concern. Without saying anything else to us, he walks into the hospital,
leaving Oriana and me gazing after him in confusion.
“That was odd,” Oriana remarks, raising an eyebrow. “He comes all this
way, injured, for an enforcer who’s apparently okay?”
“I suppose the enforcer must mean a lot to him,” I reflect, continuing to
stare at the hospital entrance.
Dr. Leyric clears his throat. “Daelor cares about all his pack members,
particularly his security team. They’re like family to him.”
With that mysterious statement, he excuses himself and heads back
inside, leaving us even more puzzled than before.
“Well, that was strange,” Oriana comments as we walk to her car. “Should
we wait for him?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t even acknowledge us before he left. I think it’s
best we just go.”
As Oriana drives away from the hospital, she can’t help but speculate
about what she just witnessed.
“So,” she starts, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, “who do you think this
‘enforcer‘ is to Daelor? There must be someone significant to make him
rush to the hospital like that.”
I hadn’t thought of that angle. “Do you think they’re involved?”
Oriana dramatically shrugs. “Well, have you ever seen him with a female
partner? I mean, romantically?”
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<Chapter 46 Keep the Baby
“No, but that doesn’t really prove anything,” I counter.
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“All I’m saying is, for all we know, Daelor could be interested in both men and women! Or just men!” Oriana chuckles. “Maybe he has a taste for both
male and female wolves. That would certainly explain his interest in you
while also having a ‘special enforcer‘ he rushes to check on.”
I roll my eyes at her theories. “Oriana, come on. You’re being absurd.”
“Am I though?” She raises her eyebrows playfully. “The man is stunning,
powerful, and somehow still single. There has to be a reason for that.”
Despite myself, I chuckle. Oriana’s playful banter is just what I need after
the emotionally charged morning at the Unified Land Registry.
“So,” Oriana shifts her tone to something more serious, “have you made a c
hoice? About the pup?”
My hand subconsciously drifts to my abdomen. After viewing the
ultrasound and discovering the potential risks, I find myself grappling with
my choice.
“I’m going to keep it,” I whisper, surprised at the conviction in my tone. “I
know it will be challenging, but I want this baby.”
Deep within me, my wolf purrs with satisfaction, validating my choice.
Although the pregnancy is still new to me, I already feel a connection to the
tiny life developing inside.
“Are you absolutely certain?” Oriana asks softly. “What about Alarion? What
will you say to him?”
I exhale heavily, staring out the window at the scenery zipping by. “I’m not
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sure yet. But there are thirty days until the mate bond severance is finalized. I’ll have it figured out by then.”
Oriana intertwines her fingers with mine. “No matter what you choose to
tell him, I’m here for you. We’ll navigate this together.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, a sense of relief washing over me.
In that moment, I realize I’ve made the right decision. Regardless of the
challenges that might come, I am committed to raising this baby with no
regrets. My wolf feels invigorated, protective instincts surging as we
embrace our commitment to our unborn child.
The emotional turmoil of the morning, combined with the hospital visit, has left me exhausted. I find myself drifting off in the passenger seat, lulled by
the car’s gentle motion and the soft melodies from the radio.
I stir awake when we pull up to Myrthale Residences, feeling drowsy yet
inexplicably lighter. The choice regarding my pup has brought me an
unexpected sense of calm.
“Thanks for everything today,” I say to Oriana as we hug goodbye in the
lobby. “I don’t know how I would manage without you.”
“You’d manage just fine,” she reassures me with a smile. “But it would be a
lot less entertaining.”
I chuckle and wave as she leaves.
The elevator ride to my floor is quiet, allowing me to reflect on the day’s
happenings. Between finalizing the mate bond severance and deciding to keep my baby, my life feels transformed.
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As I reach for my door, the apartment across the hall swings open. Daelor
steps out, looking weary yet considerably cleaner than when I last saw
him. He’s changed his clothes, though the wound on his arm remains
neglected, a hasty bandage already stained with blood.
“You’re back,” I remark, stating the obvious. “How’s your arm?”
He glances at it, as if just recalling his injury. “It’s okay.”
“It doesn’t appear okay,” I respond. “Did you clean it properly?”
His silence serves as enough of a response.
“I still have some moonflower salve left from when you treated my hand,” I
suggest. “It should aid in the healing.”
He hesitates briefly, then agrees with a nod. “Thank you.”
To my surprise, he gestures towards his open door instead of following me
to my apartment. I’ve never been inside his place before.
His apartment is at least double the size of mine, featuring floor–to–ceiling windows with stunning views of the city. The decor is sparse yet luxurious -all dark woods and leather. It strikes a balance between masculinity and
elegance.
“Have a seat,” I direct, indicating a stool at his kitchen counter. “I’ll retrieve the salve from my apartment.”
When I come back with the supplies, Daelor has taken off his shirt, exposing a fresh wound alongside a multitude of scars on his torso. The sight leaves me momentarily speechless. Each scar signifies a tale of
battles and suffering that I can hardly fathom.
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I turn my attention to the task ahead, cleaning the wound with antiseptic, flinching in sympathy as he tenses up.
“So,” he remarks while I work, his tone unexpectedly casual given the situation, “you wrapped up the mate bond severance proceedings today?”
I nod, carefully applying moonflower salve to the cut. “Yes, but there’s a thirty–day waiting period before it’s official.”
“That’s standard procedure,” he responds. “Do you feel relieved?”
“Yeah,” I confess. “Although thirty days feels like ages, especially since Alarion could still change his mind.”
“He won’t,” Daelor asserts with a confidence that prompts me to look up
and meet his silver–gray gaze.
“Why are you so sure?”
He gives a cryptic smile. “Let’s just say he knows the repercussions of
meddling with your choice.”
I choose not to delve further into that implication. I finish bandaging his
arm in silence, using the specially treated wraps designed to aid a
werewolf’s natural healing.
“There we go,” I say, stepping back to admire my handiwork. “Keep it clean
and dry for at least 24 hours. The moonflower salve should accelerate your
recovery.”
Daelor examines the bandage before meeting my gaze with an expression
I struggle to interpret.
“Now you’ve settled one of your debts to me,” he states, a playful glint in his
silver–gray eyes that stirs my wolf’s curiosity within me.
