Adam
A day had passed since I returned and found Elsa unconscious on the bed, her pale face a haunting reminder of how close we had come to losing her.
The doctor had explained in clinical detail what had happened—the trauma of the fight had strained her uterus walls, a dangerous situation for both her and the baby. But the doctor had also reassured me, reminding me that Alpha breeds, like their wolves, healed faster than others. It was a small comfort, but one I clung to.
By the following day, there were signs of hope. Her womb was repairing itself at an astonishing rate, and the baby was still strong. That was the miracle of Alpha blood, the resilience that defined us.
Elsa’s strength was undeniable, but even so, the doctor insisted on keeping her sedated to accelerate the healing
