Chapter 62

Lauren

The moment we stepped off the helicopter, the cold bit at my skin, crisp and unrelenting.

The Alps stretched before us, their snow-dusted peaks rising against the pale morning sky like something out of a painting. The air smelled fresh, sharp with the scent of pine and ice, so different from the sterile hospital halls we had just left behind.

Beyond the hospital was the resort, a massive lodge with high stone walls and tinder frames. People were skiing down the massive peaks in large S shape movements, boots clopping around on the stone while carrying big, clunch boards and skis.

Abigail and Owen were already halfway down the private tarmac, their boots crunching against the fresh powder. Their laughter rang through the crisp air as they kicked up the snow.

Owen, usually reserved, had abandoned his usual cautious demeanor, taking in the towering mountains with wide-eyed wonder. Abigail, always the fearless one, scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it playfully in Owen’s direction, only to shriek with laughter when he retaliated.

It only took all but three seconds before they started throwing crushed snowballs at eachother.

I tightened my coat around myself, the cold seeping through despite the layers. Beside me, Alexander adjusted the cuffs of his tailored coat, looking perfectly composed as usual. The man didn’t seem to register the cold, or maybe he just refused to acknowledge it.

Then again, Alpha’s never really got cold.

Around us the winding mountain roads looked like each turn revealed more breathtaking scenery. Snow-blanketed forests stretched on either side, the trees bending under the weight of the frost. Small wooden cabins dotted the landscape, their chimneys releasing wisps of smoke into the sky.

It was picturesque, almost unreal, like something out of an old European fairytale. I narrowed my eyes, spotting the old brick cabin I had stayed at in my studies here.

Abigail pressed her face against the lodge’s window, fogging up the glass with her breath. “Look at that! It’s like we’re inside a snow globe, outside!”

Owen nodded in agreement, though he was more focused on the distant ski slopes where tiny figures glided effortlessly down the powdery trails. “Do you think they have sledding?”

I forced a smile. “Probably.”

Alexander, who had been quiet for most of the ride, plucked my suitcase from my side walking long strides towards the kids. “Come on, pups, we can play later.”

By the time we had arrived at the resort hospital, the sun had fully risen, casting a golden hue over the pristine snow.

The facility itself was a marvel of modern architecture—sleek glass panels reflecting the icy landscape, seamlessly blending into the surrounding mountains. Unlike the cold, impersonal hospitals back home, this place felt… tranquil. A strange contrast, considering why we were here.

Alexander insisted we check in at the lodge but I insisted we go see the doctor first, one I remembered fondly. If anyone could help, it would be that crazy man.

As we stepped inside the small medical wing, a timber style home convereted into an office, and a woman greeted us warmly infront of the steps. She had sharp, intelligent eyes and a confident stance, scrubs with long ginger hair to her waist.

She signed something quickly before speaking, her words matching her hands movmenets.

“Dr. Lauren,” she said. “It’s been awhile,” her eyes moved to Alexander and the kids. “I’m Gingi, Dr. Belsing’s assistant.”

I shook her hand. “Been too logn indeed. This is Owen, Abigail, and Alexander.”

Gingi gave me a quizical look but nodded, stepping aside to reveal a path to the living room where an older man sat beyond her—Dr. Belsing. His white hair contrasted sharply with his weathered skin, his sharp eyes scanning us with quiet curiosity. He signed something fluidly, his fingers moving with practiced ease.

Gingi translated, “Dr. Belsing says he’s happy to see one of his favorite students again. That and…” she hesitated, shooting me a look. “He didn’t expect you to have pups.”

I stiffened. How does he know they’re mine?

Alexander smirked beside me, shifting his weight like he was settling in for a show. “Quite a nose you got there, Doc.”

Belsing’s answering smile was just as sly, leaving me thoroughly out of the loop while the kids gawked at him like he was a zoo exhibit.

“Why can’t you talk?” Abigail asked bluntly.

“Abigail!” I hissed, yanking her back by her hood. “Manners!”

“Ow!” she yelped. “Don’t bite my head off!”

“Maybe an Alpha ripped his vocal cords out,” Owen mused, which earned him a large hand from Alexander, palming his head down into a forced bow.

“Sorry, Doc.” Alexander flashed an easygoing smile. “Kids, right?”

Belsing seemed to let out a soundless laugh, Gingi stepping forward. “Cutting to the chase, Belsing anazlysed the samples you sent before hand. It seems, as you suspected, Owen’s condition is stable but unusual. We are running the tests now on our machines to lock in what’s happening.”

I folded my arms. “So, still no real answers.”

Gingi hesitated before continuing. “One more thing. He suggests additional testing. Specifically, on Abigail’s blood as well.”

I stiffened. “Why Abigail?”

Alexander’s gaze darkened slightly, but he remained silent as Belsing continued to sign. Gingi glanced between us before explaining, “Because whatever is happening in Owen’s blood—Dr. Belsing believes it might be tied to his connection with his sister. There’s a possibility it’s a genetic one.”

My stomach twisted. “But Abigail has never shown any signs of sickness.”

“Irrelevant.” Gingi shrugged.

I narrowed my eyes. “Okay… and if it is?”

Belsing gave a slow, thoughtful nod before signing again. Gingi exhaled, rubbing her temple.

“Then we rethink. Retest. And replan.”

That night, the tension hadn’t faded.

The resort itself was still breathtaking, but my mind couldn’t focus on anything but the doctors words.

They took some of Abigails blood, to which left she screaming and crying. Only stopping when Owen comforted her and given a pink bandaid.

Our suite was enormous, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the mountains, casting long shadows over the pristine snow. A grand stone fireplace crackled warmly in the living space, its glow flickering over the plush leather sofas and rustic wooden furniture. It was the kind of place that would have felt like a dream vacation under different circumstances.

Owen and Abigail had settled in quickly, thrilled at the sight of their bunk beds. They were already arguing over who got the top, their earlier needle pokes momentarily forgotten in the face of the unexpected adventure.

I, however, was too distracted to enjoy the luxury.

As I stepped into the adjoining bedroom—far from the kids—I stopped short, my stomach plummeting.

One bed.

I turned slowly, leveling a glare at Alexander just as he stepped in behind me. He barely blinked at the sight, one brow arching in obvious amusement.

“Oh,” he mused, lips twitching. “Well, this should be interesting.”

I exhaled sharply. “I’ll take the couch.”

His smirk deepened. “Already called dibs.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You messed up the reservation. You don’t get to call dibs.”

“I just did.”

Groaning, I tossed my bag onto the mattress—maybe with a little too much force. “I’d rather not deal with this on top of everything else.”

Alexander leaned lazily against the doorframe, looking entirely too entertained. “We’ve shared worse accommodations before. And, if I recall, we both ended up in the bed.”

I shot him a glare before yanking extra blankets from the closet. “That was different.”

His smirk grew. “How so?”

My jaw clenched. “Because back then, I actually liked you.”

For the briefest moment, something flickered in his expression, but it was masked beneath an infuriatingly smug smirk. “Ouch.”

Ignoring him, I focused on making up the couch, pretending I didn’t feel his eyes on me. Pretending I wasn’t hyperaware of him standing there, so close, so Alexander.

Just as I reached for the light, his voice cut through the silence—low, soft, and dangerous in a way that made my breath hitch.

“Lauren.”

I hesitated.

His gaze was steady when I turned, something serious lurking beneath the teasing edge of his voice.

“My Luna sleeps in a bed,” he murmured. “That’s an order.”