Chapter 3
Freya's POV
My fingers drummed restlessly on the armrest as I waited in the sterile hallway of Moonshade Hospital. The antiseptic smell burned my sensitive nose, making my wolf Ember pace anxiously inside me. I checked the time again—twenty minutes since the nurse had taken my blood samples and told me to wait.
For the past week, I'd been waking up nauseated, barely making it to the bathroom before emptying my stomach. At first, I'd chalked it up to stress—planning for the upcoming pack hunt, worrying about my mother's condition, and of course, that night with Ethan. But when the fatigue hit me like a truck and even my favorite coffee made me gag, I knew something was wrong.
Most concerning was Ember's behavior. My wolf had been unusually restless, pacing and whining constantly as if protecting something precious. When I tried shifting two days ago, the pain had been so intense I'd nearly blacked out.
"Freya Hayes?"
I glanced up at the sound of my name, then froze. Standing before me, chart in hand and white coat perfectly pressed, was a face I hadn't seen in three years.
"Noah?" I whispered, hardly believing my eyes.
Noah Fletcher's surprised expression melted into a warm smile. "I thought that might be you." He looked the same yet different—taller, broader shouldered, with new confidence in his stance, but still with those kind hazel eyes that had comforted me through some of my darkest days.
I leapt to my feet and smacked his arm. "You're back and didn't even tell me?"
He winced, rubbing his arm with exaggerated pain. "Sorry! I just got back last week. Was planning to surprise you once I got settled."
Seeing him brought back a flood of memories—summers spent exploring the woods around Duskpine Haven, my mother teaching us to identify healing herbs, Noah listening patiently while I cried about my father's latest cruelty. Before everything fell apart, Noah had been my anchor.
"What are you doing here?" I asked. "At a werewolf hospital, of all places?"
He lowered his voice, glancing around the empty hallway. "I specialized in lupine physiology overseas. With more humans and werewolves pairing up these days, someone needs to understand the unique health challenges." His eyes crinkled with humor. "Plus, you guys are fascinating from a medical perspective."
"So now I'm a science experiment?" I teased.
His smile faded as his gaze dropped to the paper in my hand. Professional curiosity replaced friendly banter in an instant.
"Freya," he said softly, "you're pregnant."
The world tilted. "What?"
Noah gently took my arm and guided me back to my seat. "The hormone levels are unmistakable."
Inside me, Ember yipped and spun in joyous circles, radiating a fierce protectiveness I'd never felt from her before. My wolf had known all along—she'd been trying to shield our pup.
"That's impossible," I whispered, even as my mind raced back to that night with Ethan. One night. One time. But the timing...exactly one month ago.
Noah pulled me into an empty consultation room, closing the door for privacy. "Mixed-blood pregnancies can be tricky," he explained, switching fully to doctor mode. "Your human genetics will make the pregnancy more unstable than for full-blooded females."
My hand instinctively went to my still-flat stomach. "Is the baby in danger?"
"Not necessarily, but you'll need careful monitoring." His eyes softened. "Is Ethan the father?"
I nodded mutely, still processing. A baby. Ethan's baby. Our baby.
"You'll need to avoid certain herbs that can affect wolf cub development," Noah continued, pulling out a notepad. "Wolfsbane, obviously, but also mountain ash, mistletoe—"
"Noah," I interrupted, my mind suddenly connecting the joy of new life with the grief of my mother's condition. "I know this is a lot to take in, but hearing about the baby makes me think of my mother. If she were awake..." My voice caught. "Have you been keeping tabs on my mother's condition? I've always wondered if there might be something more we could try."
The pregnancy news had awakened a longing I usually kept buried—the wish that my mother could be here to guide me through this, to place her hand on my stomach and tell me everything would be alright. Isabella Carter should be preparing to become a grandmother, not lying unresponsive in a hospital bed.
His expression shifted. "I have. That's actually another reason I came back. I've been researching treatments that might help patients like Isabella." He hesitated. "I'd like to examine her, if you'll let me."
I nodded, grateful. Despite the shock of my pregnancy, knowing Noah might help my mother lightened my heart.
"Would you..." I hesitated. "Would you be my doctor for this pregnancy?"
Something flickered in his eyes—concern, perhaps even hurt—before he smiled. "Of course, Freya. Whatever you need."
Back in my car, I rested my forehead against the steering wheel, trying to make sense of everything. Ember was practically dancing with excitement, pushing against my consciousness.
"Our pup, our pup!" she yelped with excitement. "Must protect. Must tell Alpha."
"Our contract only has one year left," I reminded her aloud. "This baby changes everything."
But did it? Would Ethan even want a child with me? A half-breed's offspring?
I started the car, decision made. I would tell him tonight. Prepare his favorite meal, create a warm atmosphere, and simply tell him the truth. Maybe, just maybe, this child could help him see what I'd known since that day in the forest—that we belonged together.
At Silver Moon Manor, I first stopped by my small workshop, seeking comfort in the familiar. I ran my fingers over my mother's silver tools, feeling her presence even after all these years. On my workbench lay a half-finished silver pendant, designed to honor Ember. Perhaps I should make one for our pup too.
In the kitchen, I carefully prepared venison steaks with roasted root vegetables, Ethan's favorite meal. Olivia helped me set the dining room table with our best silver.
"You seem different today, Mrs. Blackwood," she observed, her keen eyes missing nothing.
I simply smiled. "Just hopeful, Olivia."
As six o'clock approached, I changed into a simple blue dress that brought out my eyes. I dabbed a touch of perfume at my wrists and throat—something I rarely bothered with anymore. The dining room looked perfect: candles casting a warm glow over the polished table, his favorite meal arranged just so, a bottle of the wine he preferred breathing nearby. I rehearsed the words again and again in my head, imagining his face when I told him. Would there be joy? Shock? Perhaps this was the bridge that could finally connect us.
My fingers nervously traced patterns on the silver cutlery as I waited, listening for the sound of his car in the driveway. Ember hummed contentedly inside me, confident in ways I couldn't be. Six-fifteen came. Then six-thirty. I rearranged the flowers, straightened utensils that were already perfectly aligned, and lit the candles again when they burned too low.
When Olivia entered the dining room at seven, her footsteps slow and hesitant, her expression told me everything before she spoke. The hope that had been building all afternoon crashed down around me like shattered glass.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Blackwood. Alpha has gone to the airport to pick up Miss Riley. He likely won't be back tonight."