Third person's POV
Wilmot had barely brought her ashore. Tabitha was wrapped in a large towel and her soaked clothes still clinging to her when she urgently inquired about Ayla's whereabouts.
Her lips were purple from the cold, and her pale face looked pitiful.
"We're safe now. The little one has been taken to the warship where a doctor is examining her. You should change your clothes first to avoid catching a cold," Wilmot advised.
"No, I want to see her first."
Tabitha insisted, hastily stepping down from the bed and running outside barefoot.
In the corridor, she saw men dressed in uniform and armed with weapons. An overwhelming sense of pressure enveloped her.
It dawned on Tabitha that she was no longer on the ship she had been traveling on but on a formidable warship.
The moment she stepped out of the room, all eyes turned to her.
Tabitha's movements froze, her face flushed with embarrassment. In the tense and oppressive atmosphere, she was at a loss.
No one spoke, but the silence was deafening, making her feel extremely uncomfortable.
It wasn't until Wilmot followed her out and said, "Don't worry. I'll take you there," that she felt a sense of relief.
Feeling Tabitha's stiffness, he gently tugged at her clothes and guided her, "This way."
Tabitha headed down like a child who had done something wrong.
Tabitha noticed how at ease Wilmot seemed amidst the pressure as if he were in his own home.
His back was straight, his expression calm, and his steps steady and orderly as he led her to another room.
Ayla lay on the bed, still unconscious.
Ignoring everything else, Tabitha hurried to Ayla's side.
Seeing Ayla with her eyes closed, Tabitha anxiously asked the military doctor with rank insignia beside her, "Excuse me, how is she?"
The doctor was very kind and friendly towards her, showing no airs of superiority.
"Ms. Hartley, please don't worry. She just swallowed some water, but I've helped her vomit it out. She's just too young and must have been severely frightened. She should wake up soon."
Tabitha breathed a sigh of relief. Under the bright lights, she scrutinized the child's features.
Unlike the vague silhouette she had seen in her womb, the child's face had fully developed and indeed resembled Derek, as if carved from the same mold.
It was clear she was from the Black Thorn Pack.
The little boy, on the other hand, resembled her more.
Her longed-for child was right in front of her, and Tabitha yearned to hold and kiss her.
She reached out her cold hand and cautiously touched the child's soft cheek, pulling back as if electrocuted.
Tabitha knew her body temperature was low and didn't want to pass on the chill to Ayla.
"Ms. Hartley, I've conducted a thorough examination. She is fine. Both you and she need to change into dry clothes as soon as possible to avoid catching a cold. We don't have children's clothes on the ship, so we can only wrap her in adult clothes for now. We'll figure something out once we dock."
Tabitha nodded and said, "Thank you. I'll change her clothes."
"Alright."
The doctor handed her some clean men's clothes and added, "By the way, Ms. Hartley, I had some medicine prepared. Remember to take it later."
"I see," Tabitha suddenly looked at the doctor and asked, "We've never met before. How did you know my surname was Hartley?"