เข้าสู่ระบบThe next morning, Tyler is different.
He doesn't avoid me. Doesn't push me away.
But he's... clinical. Detached. Like he's decided something during the night and won't tell me what.
At breakfast, he slides a folder across the table.
"What's this?" I ask.
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The next morning, Tyler is different.He doesn't avoid me. Doesn't push me away.But he's... clinical. Detached. Like he's decided something during the night and won't tell me what.At breakfast, he slides a folder across the table."What's this?" I ask."Information on optimizing fertility. Diet recommendations. Exercise guidelines. Vitamins you should start taking." Tyler's voice is matter-of-fact. Professional. "Dr. Reeves sent it over. If we're doing this, we should do it right."I open the folder. Inside are printouts. Charts. Graphs tracking ovulation cycles.There's a detailed calendar with my cycle mapped out. Red circles marki
Three weeks later, I'm late.My period is five days late.I don't tell Tyler. Don't tell anyone.I just buy a pregnancy test on the way home from visiting Bella at the hospital.The cashier at CVS doesn't even blink. Probably sells these things a hundred times a day.I hide it in my purse. Drive home. Wait until Tyler leaves for a business dinner.Then I lock myself in our bathroom and open the box.The instructions are simple. Pee on stick. Wait three minutes. Two lines means pregnant. One line means not.Simple.I've never been more terrified
Dr. Reeves's office is in the medical wing of The Eyrie. I didn't even know we had a medical wing until she gave me directions.It's on the ground floor, tucked behind the kitchen. Fully equipped with examination rooms, a small lab, medical supplies.Pack doctor perks, apparently.Dr. Reeves is waiting when I arrive. She's in her early forties, competent and kind, with graying hair pulled back in a neat bun."April," she says. "Come in."Her office is professional. Desk covered in files. Medical charts on the walls. Anatomy posters. A skeleton in the corner that I try not to look at."I take it Tyler knows you're here," she says."He k
Tyler finds the research papers the next morning.I left them spread across the library desk. Printouts about clinical trials. Articles on experimental treatments. The paper about genetic compatibility and pregnancy.He's holding that one when I walk in with coffee."What is this?" he asks. Voice dangerously quiet."Research.""Research on using pregnancy to cure genetic mutations.""Theoretical research. Dr. Reeves wrote it five years ago."Tyler sets down the paper. Carefully. Like it might explode."You called Dr. Reeves."It's not a question."Yes.""And asked her about genetic compatibility.""Yes.""Without talking to me first.""You wouldn't have agreed to it.""You're damn right I wouldn't have agreed to it!" Tyler's voice rises. "Because it's insane, April. Using a baby as a potential cure? Risking pregnancy when we don't even know if it's safe? This is fantasy, not medicine.""It's a possibility. That's more than you have now.""It's false hope.""It's better than no hope!"
Tyler leaves for a Council meeting an hour later. I go back to my research.But this time, I'm looking for something specific. Not treatments Tyler's already tried. Not experimental therapies he's already rejected.I'm looking for the Corvus Mutation itself.If it's genetic, there has to be research on it. Pack doctors studying it. Werewolf medical journals documenting it.I start with general werewolf health searches. Most results are useless—how to treat silver poisoning, managing shift injuries, pack medicine basics.But buried deep in a search result, I find something interesting.**Corvus Mutation Research Consortium** **Studying genetic anomalies in werewolf bloodlines** **Funded by pack medical research grants**I click the link. It takes me to a private website that requires login credentials.Damn.But there's a contact email.I compose an email before I can second-guess myself.Dr. Reeves,I'm researching the Corvus Mutation—specifically Type B manifestation affecting ca
The Eyrie has a library. I discover this three days after Bella's hospital scare, three days after learning my husband is dying, three days after deciding I'm not giving up.It's on the third floor, hidden behind a door I assumed led to storage. But when I push it open, I find floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, leather armchairs, and a massive oak desk with a computer.Tyler's father's library, Carmen tells me when I ask. Tyler doesn't use it much. Too many ghosts.Perfect for what I need.I start with the basics. Google searches. Medical journals. Research papers on hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, genetic mutations, experimental treatments.The results are overwhelming. Thousands of articles. Clinical trials. Treatment protocols. Statistics that make my stomach drop.**5-year survival rate for advanced HCM: 60%** **10-year survival: 40%** **Most deaths occur during physical exertion** **No cure currently available**I print everything. Stack papers on the desk until it's covered. Highl







