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The familiar antiseptic scent of the pack hospital greeted me as I pushed through the glass doors, my heels clicking against the polished floors with a rhythm that had become as routine as breathing. Three years of monthly visits, three years of hope dwindling with each negative test result, each sympathetic shake of Dr. Helena's head. I adjusted my purse strap and headed toward the fertility wing, my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin. Luna, my inner wolf, had been unusually agitated lately, though I couldn't pinpoint why. Perhaps she sensed my growing desperation, the weight of pack expectations that seemed to press heavier with each passing month. The corridor stretched before me, lined with motivational posters about werewolf health and family planning that now felt like cruel mockery. I'd memorized every word, every smiling face of the happy werewolf families featured in the images. Would Lucian and I ever have that? Would I ever give him the heir our pack needed? As I approached Dr. Helena's office, a familiar voice drifted from one of the private consultation rooms. My heart lifted slightly—Lucian. He must have come to support me, even though he hadn't mentioned it this morning. A warm flutter of gratitude filled my chest as I changed direction, drawn by the sound of my