I thought I'd never have a pup again. Ten miscarriages had left my body scarred, and healers told me I'd likely never carry one. But fate had a kinder gift in store. In my fourth year bound to Lucas, I got pregnant.
When Lucas checked me and confirmed it, his usual calm broke. His eyes reddened as he pulled me close, voice trembling. "Sophia, we're having a pup."
I touched my stomach, tears falling silently. I should've been overjoyed, but fear crept in. What if this pup slipped away like the others?
Pregnancy brought nightmares—me lying in blood, watching my pup fade. I'd wake drenched in sweat, clutching the sheets until Lucas held me, whispering, "It's okay, I'm here." He'd repeat, "This pup's strong. You'll bring him into the world safe."
Still, I couldn't shake the dread. One nigh
