Semua Bab The Alpha's Second Chance: Bab 21 - Bab 30

The moonlight trickles through the hospital’s window, casting silvery patterns on the floor as I sit on my Maddox’s bedside in the stillness of the night. My heart is heavy, burdened by a choice I never thought I'd have to make. My son, my sweet, innocent boy, lies in that hospital bed, his life hanging by a fragile thread. I can't bear to see him suffer, to watch him fade away.Dr. Tiu told me that there's a chance, a chance to save him, but it comes with a price. A price I never thought I'd have to pay – to become a werewolf, like the stories and myths that used to thrill me as a child. A werewolf, a creature of the night, of legend and lore. It feels like a surreal nightmare, a choice I could never have imagined making.I sit here, tracing the outlines of the moonlight on the floor, my mind racing with thoughts of what lies ahead. The transformation, she says, will give me the ability to conceive another child, a healthy child this time, who can become my Maddox’s blood donor. But

"Mr. Guttierrez," Dr. Tiu begins. "I've examined Ms. Garcia’s condition. The transformation was abrupt, and her body is struggling to adapt." My eyes lock onto the doctor, a silent plea for guidance. "Is there something that I can do for her to recover faster?" "We need to stabilize her condition first. The transformation can be overwhelming for a new werewolf. Her body is healing, changing, and it requires a delicate balance. Keep her cool and hydrated. Her body temperature will be elevated as her wolf form fights to establish dominance," the doctor explains. "But there's more. The bond you share—the emotional connection—is vital. Talk to her, let her hear your voice. It will help anchor her." I nod with a tired smile, “I’ll do that. Thank you for all of your help.” “It’s my job to make sure Ms. Garcia and Maddox will be safe from whatever health battle they’re going through,” she replies with an equally tired smile. “I’ll be going now. Call me or any nurse by pressing that butt

At the center of the bustling cityscape, where the sun casts long shadows across gleaming skyscrapers and the racket of car horns and chattering pedestrians fill the air, there I stride with opulence and disdain. Adorned in a cascade of haute couture, I trail an aura of extravagance wherever my gaze falls. My name is known by many and spoken in hushed tones. With each haughty step I take, my Gammas, with towering figures clad in impeccable black suits, move in a practiced choreography, forming a human shield around me. These sentinels of protection are the last line of defense between me and the relentless reporters that hunger for my presence like starved wolves sensing a kill. Cameras flash, their light dancing off the polished lenses as photographers jockey for the most favorable angles. My features are set in a mask of indifference, my lips painted the hue of crushed rose petals, my eyes concealed behind oversized sunglasses. A waterfall of straight, dark locks cascade down my s

ELOISE'S POV: I awake with a start, my senses flood with a chaotic swirl of unfamiliar sensations. The first thing that assaults my consciousness is an eruption of pain. It surges through my body like a tempest, each ache and throb a discordant note in the composition of my agony. The sterile scent of antiseptic, the soft hum of machines, the scratch of crisp bed sheets against my skin – all merge into a disorienting cacophony in an amplified version. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights above, I groan and try to sit up, only to be met with a jolt of searing pain that discharges through my limbs. "Easy now," a calm voice murmurs from my side. ‘Braxton?’ I turn my head, wincing at the sharp pang of discomfort, while peering at a blurred silhouette standing by my bed. A few moments later, I manage to get a glimpse of his warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You've been through quite an ordeal,” he adds. My memory is foggy, fragmented. I remember a sense of u

In the waning light of a somber night, the walls of the hospital room close in on me and Braxton. Though our hearts are celebrating because of the recent news of Dr. Tiu, they’re also suspended between hope and fear, caught in a delicate balance as we stand by the side of our Maddox’s bed. Dr. Tiu steps with measure, her gaze steady, as she approaches us whose eyes are fixed on her, brimming with longing for a glimmer of another good news. "Ms. Garcia, Mr. Guttierrez," she begins, her voice carrying the weight of both empathy and professional attachment. "I understand the depth of your concern for young Maddox. He’s a fighter, that one."My fingers find solace in Braxton’s hand, our intertwined grip a lifeline as we wait for Dr. Tiu to continue. A fragile ray of hope casts its tender light across our strained expressions."Maddox can’t be too exhausted physically and emotionally," She continues, her gaze shifting briefly to our Maddox sleeping fitfully before returning to us. "His