Chapter 3: Doppelganger

Cora's POV

Just as my mind begins to flood with doubt, a wave of dizziness washes over me. 

I gasped for air, feeling more lightheaded than I had ever felt before. I stumbled toward the loveseat and sat down, doing my best to steady my nerves. But then, a wave of nausea hit me. I felt like I was going to throw up.

Though my limbs feel awkward and numb and barely able to be moved, I manage to rush over the bathroom. Just as I flipped the toilet seat open, I vomited uncontrollably.

I groan, clutching the sides of the toilet bowl and shuddering heavily. Another surge of nausea hits me again, causing me to throw up once more. 

Though my mood was in ruins, the intensity of my physical reaction felt... odd.

This vomiting didn’t feel like something brought on by emotional distress; it was more like something inside me was taking control of my stomach.

After what seemed like an eternity, when the wave of nausea finally started to pass, I shakily stood up and stumbled toward the sink. The taste of bile burned my throat. I splashed cold water on my face, staring at my reflection in the mirror—eyes wide, watery, my lower lip trembling.

Then, in a flash, the thought hit me like a lightning bolt—

Could I be pregnant?

My heart begins to pound. It feels foolish to hope, but still. 

If I really am pregnant, then maybe–just maybe–Liam could start to care for me. 

Even if it’s only for the sake of our child. 

I don’t want to get my hopes up for nothing, though. I place my hands over my stomach and make the decision right then and there. I’ll go to the hospital alone for a check up, and if my suspicions are confirmed, I’ll surprise Liam with the news that night. 

Mind made up, I quickly make my way over to the pack hospital, which is right beside the pack house. I wait frantically by the front desk until a nurse ushers me into a sterile-looking room. 

“We’ll be taking a blood test and a urine sample to determine whether or not you’re pregnant,” the pack nurse says. 

“If you are, that’s when we’ll look into things like ultrasounds and a full physical, to make sure both you and the potential baby are in good health. If you’re not…” the nurse shrugs. “We’d be happy to go over fertility treatments with you here.” 

“I–alright,” I say shakily as the nurse fastens a tourniquet around my arm. There’s a momentary pinch as the butterfly needle pierces my vein, and then it’s over. “Thank you.” 

“Of course,” the nurse says. She bandages the tiny wound and places a tiny cup into my hand. “That’s for the urine sample. It’ll take two hours for us to get the results back–please try to be around by then.” 

I breathe out a tremulous breath and stand up. After providing the nurse with the urine sample, I decide to take a walk nearby while I wait. 

After all, I’ve only been at the Snowcrest pack for a few months now–I’m still learning my way around. Plus, a walk might steady my shaky nerves. 

The obstetrics and gynecology department is on the fifth floor. I’ve got time to spare, so I make my way towards the stairs rather than the elevator. 

As I walk around, I can see patients and gurneys all around me–people much worse off than I am, all things considered. I feel a pang of sympathy for them all. 

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly spot a familiar figure. 

My mother, rounding the corner of a long hallway with a distressed expression on her face. 

I furrow my brow. 

Am I seeing things wrong? 

My parents are the Alpha and Luna of the Bloodthorn pack–so why would they be at a hospital in my husband’s pack? 

I take a step towards my mother instinctively, wanting to say hi. But before I get the chance to call out to her, I notice her hurriedly wiping tears away and rushing into a VIP hospital room. 

A sense of unease bubbles up in my chest. 

Is Mom sick? 

Without hesitation, I follow behind my mother and step into the hospital room just before the door swings shut. 

Only to be met with a sight that makes my blood run cold. 

At the center of the room lies a girl in a hospital bed, hooked up to a horrifying number of machines. 

Sitting beside her on the bed is Liam, my husband, patiently feeding her with a tenderness I’ve never seen from him before. 

Both my parents are there too, hovering around the girl with evident care and affection etched on their faces. 

Just when things couldn’t get any stranger, I catch a glimpse of the girl’s face. 

She looks exactly like me.