The Broken Mate Bond: His Fatal Choice

"Alpha Adrian," Dr. Thorne stammered, his knuckles white around the metal clipboard. "The stat blood work... I need you to look at this."

"Is it the venom?" Adrian snapped. He stood still, not taking his eyes off the glass partition.

On the other side of the glass, Celeste lay on a stark white bed. An oxygen mask covered half her face. Her chest barely rose and fell.

"No, Alpha. It's your mate." The doctor swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing above his tight collar. "She's pregnant. Nine weeks."

I lay on the gurney, the glass shards from the banquet hall still stinging my spine. I waited for him to turn around. To rush to my side. To realize the gravity of what he had almost done to me.

He didn't move. His gaze remained locked on Celeste's pale, lifeless face.

"Did you hear him, Adrian?" I croaked. My throat throbbed from where his fingers had bruised my windpipe just twenty minutes ago. "We're having a baby. The night of the winter solstice... it happened."

He finally turned his head. His eyes, usually a warm amber, were flat and dead. There was no joy. No surprise. Only a chilling emptiness that made my stomach drop.

"How much blood can you extract from her?" he asked the doctor.

The words hung in the harsh fluorescent light.

"Alpha?" Dr. Thorne blinked, taking a step back. "She's carrying your pup. Significant blood loss could trigger a spontaneous abortion. Her body is already under immense stress from the physical trauma."

"I asked you a medical question, Doctor." Adrian stepped closer to the older man. His voice dropped to a lethal calm. "The Silver Thorn venom requires a continuous transfusion from a purebred wolf to flush the toxins. How many milliliters can you take from her without stopping her heart?"

"Adrian, no!" I shot up from the mattress, ignoring the pain radiating down my back. "You can't do this."

"Pin her down," Adrian ordered.

Two pack enforcers stepped out of the shadows. Heavy hands clamped onto my shoulders.

"Keep her still," Adrian commanded, adjusting his cuffs.

"Yes, Alpha." The taller enforcer pressed his forearm across my collarbone, forcing me flat against the thin mattress.

"Get off me!" I thrashed against their grip, kicking my bare legs against the metal bed frame. "Adrian, please! It's our child! The heir you wanted!"

"We made a mistake," he replied coldly. "A mistake that won't cost Celeste her life."

He leaned over the gurney and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. His grip was devoid of affection. "You poisoned her the moment she returned to the pack. You'll pay whatever price it takes to keep her breathing."

"I didn't poison anyone!" I screamed, tears finally spilling over my cheeks. "Someone framed me! The vial was just dropped there!"

"The vial was at your feet." He released my face with a look of pure disgust. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his fingers, as if touching me had soiled him. He nodded at the doctor. "Do it. Now."

"Alpha, I must protest—" Dr. Thorne started.

"Draw the blood, or I will find a doctor who will, and you will leave this territory tonight," Adrian snarled.

Dr. Thorne's hands shook as he swabbed my inner elbow with alcohol. The scent burned my nose.

"Forgive me, Luna," the doctor whispered.

The steel needle pierced my vein. I squeezed my eyes shut. A sting radiated up my bicep. The dark red fluid shot through the clear plastic tubing, racing away from me.

"Keep the bags flowing to Celeste's room," Adrian instructed. He didn't spare me another glance.

He walked out of my cubicle and straight into hers. Through the glass window separating our rooms, I watched my husband pull a plastic chair to Celeste's bedside. He wrapped both his hands around her limp fingers and pressed his forehead against her knuckles.

The centrifuge hummed beside my bed, collecting my life force. The plastic bag filled rapidly. My fingers grew numb. A deep, bone-chilling cold crept up my arms and settled into my chest.

"Please," I mumbled to the enforcer standing guard at my door. "Tell them to slow it down. I feel dizzy."

The guard crossed his arms, staring straight ahead. "Murderers don't get to make requests."

A sharp, tearing cramp ripped through my lower stomach.

I gasped, curling inward as far as the restraints allowed. Another spasm hit, harder than the first, twisting my insides like a wet towel.

Then came the dampness.

A heavy, wet warmth slipped between my thighs, pooling beneath me on the crinkling paper of the exam table.

"Help," I whispered.

I stretched my free hand toward the plastic call button clipped to the bedrail. I slammed my thumb against the red circle.

A faint buzz echoed in the hallway.

I waited. I watched the door.

No one came.

I pressed it again. And again.

"Please," I called out, my voice cracking. "Someone. My baby."

A young nurse hustled past my open door. She carried fresh IV bags and heart monitors.

"Nurse!" I shouted. "I'm bleeding! Please, I'm losing the baby!"

She paused, glancing into my room. Her eyes darted to the dark red stain spreading across my white sheets, then up to my face. She scoffed.

"Save the acting for the council, Luna," she spat. "You almost killed her."

She turned on her heel and hurried straight into Celeste's room.

I was the vicious jealous wife. The attempted murderer brought in by the Alpha himself. No one cared if I bled out in this sterile room.

Minutes bled into hours. The enforcer finally unclipped the blood bag, swapping it for a fresh one. He didn't even look at my face.

By the time they finished the extraction, the enforcers left, locking the door behind them. I was alone in the empty observation room.

I dragged my heavy, trembling body upright. Every muscle screamed in protest. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and shuffled toward the small sink in the corner.

I grabbed a handful of rough, brown paper towels from the dispenser.

Sitting back on the edge of the mattress, I bit down hard on my pale lip to keep from sobbing. I reached under my ruined dress and began to wipe away the dark, sticky evidence of my threatened miscarriage.

The coarse paper scratched my sensitive skin. The physical discomfort was nothing compared to the hollow ache in my womb.

Through the crack under the door, Adrian's frantic voice drifted down the hall.

"Is her heart rate stabilizing? Did the toxins clear?" he demanded.

"The venom is diluting, Alpha," Dr. Thorne replied warmly. "The transfusion worked. She's going to make it."

"Thank the Goddess," Adrian breathed out, his voice thick with relief. "I won't lose her again."

I stared at the crimson-stained paper towel in my hand.

He wouldn't lose her. But he didn't care if he lost us.

I swallowed the pathetic cries for help that had been burning in my throat. I crushed the blood-soaked paper into a tight ball and reached for the heavy metal IV pole beside my bed.