Athena
As we stepped into the brightly lit waiting room of the doctor's office, a familiar scent of disinfectant filled the air, mingling with our nervous anticipation. My gaze scanned the room, searching for any signs of familiarity.
Behind the reception desk, a woman sat flipping through a magazine. It was past visiting hours, but Tristan Perez, the doctor, had kept the office open just for us. Getting an appointment with him was a daunting task for most but not for Sebastian.
"Hello there. We are here to meet, Tristan."
"Sorry, but it's past the visiting hour so there's nothing I can do for—" her words trailed off, as she looked up and noticed our presence. Her eyes widened, and she quickly stood up.
Sebastian spoke before she could, a hint of confusion in his voice, "I suppose he didn't mention us?"
"No, he did," she blurted out, her voice laced with embarrassment and dismay. "I'm so sorry, Alpha. It just slipped my mind. I apologise for the inconvenience."
Sebastian offered her a reassuring smile. "No worries, it's alright. Thank you."
"Please have a seat, ma'am," she said, leading us into the cabin. She motioned for us to take a seat. "Would you both prefer something to drink? Tea or coffee?"
"No, we're good," Sebastian responded on our behalf.
"Okay." With that, she left.
Minutes ticked by in silence, the weight of uncertainty pressing upon us. Beside me, Sebastian observed my restless fingers, aware of the unease that permeated my being. But what he couldn't see was the whirlwind of thoughts and fears raging inside me. The weight of questions burdened my heart, and I silently prayed for strength and a positive outcome.
My gaze kept flickering to my belly, where an innocent soul resided, unaware of the anxieties that plagued its mother. I longed to believe that my womb provided a sanctuary, a shield against any harm.
What if I end up losing our baby again?
What if fate cruelly snatches away our happiness once again, reducing everything to ashes?
As if Sebastian had tapped into my thoughts, he clasped my hand and squeezed it gently, "Everything's going to be okay. Don't worry."
I nodded, exhaling a tender sigh, hoping that his words we'd be able to save our little one this time.
Just as the ceaseless wait seemed interminable, the door of the Cabin swung open and a man walked in. His obsidian locks swept back while the sleeves of his light beige shirt were nonchalantly rolled up to his elbows, His eyes, akin to orbs dipped in inky darkness, gazed at us before locking stare with mine as if he was capable of peering into the depths of my very souls.
"Ah, Sebastian," he strolled towards us, a hint of apology in his voice. "Apologies for my tardiness. I went for a smoke."
Okay, so that explained the ashy smell that'd spread throughout the cabin with his arrival.
"And, you are Athena, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, it's nice to finally get to meet you," He sat across from us, "I have heard a lot about you."
"Really?"
"Yes, of course. Besides that, I have known you for quite a while."
Confusion etched upon Sebastian's visage, mirroring the bewilderment reflected on my face.
"Pardon?"
"For a solid sixteen hours, mind you. Your partner must have mentioned your name at least a couple hundred times since he learned of my potential assistance," he chuckled, veiling his prior statement beneath the mirth.
My gaze shifted towards Sebastian. It was hard to detect, whether it was surprise or joy, as the realisation dawned that he cared deeply—a precious sentiment for one accustomed to a lack of such regard.
"You are truly fortunate," he smiled. "Though our acquaintance may be brief, it is evident that he has never cared so much for anyone. Nevertheless, let us return to the matter at hand. May I review the report from your previous physician?"
"Sure," Sebastian swiftly surrendered the file into his awaiting grasp, outpacing my own intentions.
The restlessness etched upon his features was unmistakable. I could hardly fathom the burden he carried, shouldering the weight of responsibilities alone. It demanded immense courage.
As his eyes locked with mine, a fleeting smile of reassurance spread on his lips, a subtle gesture to shield me from the flames of his own distress.
At that moment, my fingers interlaced with his, imparting a gentle yet resolute squeeze, an unspoken promise that he need not brave this battle alone.
Together, we would confront whatever outcome awaited us, be it a triumph or a setback.
"Well..." As Tristan pursued the pages, the lines cast upon his forehead hinted at a worry not easily dismissed. They were subtle, but they conveyed the message that what he saw in the file was not something he often encountered, "So Doctor Chelsea addressed it as fatal growth restriction."
"You saw signs of miscarriage while one month pregnant?" Pushing the file aside he looked at me.
"Yes."
"Did that event after a series of events, something stressful or—"
"Tragic." I exhaled, a tremor betraying the lingering echoes of that fateful night. The scars, the blood-soaked fragments, and the tears—recollections threatened to surge forth. Those wolves' merciless claws, the crimson rivulets cascading, Julia's vengeful gaze, Vincent's visage, and... Celine's tear-filled eyes.
"Did you see blood?" He asked, his tone touched with a chilling detachment.
And for some reason, his sentence rather triggered all those memories than just one.
"Yes."
I saw him swallow before he continued, "I will need to conduct a series of tests to confirm your condition. Please cooperate."
****
Tristan diligently carried out an array of tests over the course of approximately two hours. Though I couldn't keep track of the exact number, it was evident that each test held significant importance to him, his expression morphing with each result, oscillating like a relentless wave.
Reviewing the new reports, Tristan's gaze met ours, "I can see that your baby is experiencing abnormal growth."
"Is that alarming?" Sebastian asked, his concern surfacing.
"Not at this moment," He responded, his tone measured, "As you know, werewolf infants develop at a faster rate compared to humans, by the sixth or seventh week they possess an innate instinct to adapt and survive. However, certain limitations still apply. It's promising that your baby is compensating for the growth delay of the past six months. But if it doesn't regulate its growth appropriately, it will pose a significant risk to both the mother and the child, particularly the mother."
"What do you mean, Tristan? What are the risks?"
Not a word dared to leave my mouth. I was just trying to take it all in and keep the hope alive within me somehow. The weight of his words settled upon us.
Tristan's words pierced the air, devoid of any sugar coating or false reassurances.
"Beyond the risk of the fetus feeling unsafe and regressing to protect itself, potentially leading to self-harm, there is another danger I must address without mincing words," he stated, his voice laden with caution, pausing momentarily before clearing his throat to steady himself.
"If the baby's growth rate persists or accelerates even slightly, and we miss the optimal delivery window or fail to manage the labour pain effectively, the infant's werewolf instincts will kick in. The rapid growth will trigger a perception of suffocation, causing the baby to tear through the mother's womb on its own ," he explained, his words hanging heavily in the air.
Sebastian's eyes widened, and a low breath slipped past his lips, "What?"
"Indeed, the absence of Athena's ability to shift poses a greater risk. If the baby had the opportunity to sense the presence of its mother's wolf, it could provide a sense of security and potentially mitigate the risk of such a drastic emergence. However, without that advantage, we will have to rely on Athena's strength and stability throughout the entirety of this pregnancy," He said, careful with his words yet somewhat stabbing me everywhere, "If the baby perceives a threat to its survival, it will not hesitate to take drastic measures. It'll kill the mother if it thinks it's needed to survive."
Sebastian's disbelief and anguish spilt forth, his struggle to process this bitter truth evident in his voice. "This is absurd, Tristan. Why would our child kill its own mother?"
"Werewolf instincts are primal, driven by a fierce desire to survive. It's an inherent part of their nature. And don't we all kill to survive? You, me, and everyone in this world will resort to killing if we believe it is necessary for our own survival. When our lives are at stake, we become the monsters we fear, willing to do whatever it takes to stay alive. When it comes to our lives, we are all monsters, desperate to live," He stated, his tone devoid of sentiment, "I'm not saying that everyone should be measured by the same scale, but I can not conceal the truth from you."
He continued, his words cutting through the air like a bitter wind, "The baby growing within her womb is like a ticking time bomb. It has lost track of time and is desperately trying to survive. There's nothing we can do, If it feels unsafe within the very womb it resides in, the same mother it shares breath with, surviving off her blood, and does not hesitate to kill her if it deems it necessary. What's even more distressing is that amidst the tumultuous awakening of its werewolf instincts at such an early stage, it may not even recognize its own mother as it takes her life. Moreover, there is a possibility that it may become a terror for others later in life, as there is no certainty that it will be able to gain control over its werewolf instincts as it grows older."
In an instant, all the hopes I had carefully nurtured within me crumbled to pieces.
My baby... a potential threat to my life.