Chapter 64 The Pup Is Gone
Another hour passed, and despite their relentless efforts, the healer and the pack doctor failed to save the pup, largely due to Claire’s uncooperative behavior. Eventually, the steady rhythm of the tiny heartbeat faded into silence. The old doctor, doubting his aging ears, leaned in closer, hoping he was mistaken. But the truth was undeniable.
The pup was gone.
With the assistant still missing and no herbs available to numb Claire’s senses, they were left with no choice. The doctor handed Claire a cloth to bite down on—there was no time, and they couldn’t risk her biting her tongue. With no anesthesia, and her fully conscious, they prepared to open her belly to remove the lifeless child.
"Miss Claire, I’m deeply sorry to inform you... the pup didn’t survive the treatment," the old doctor said gently, his voice heavy with sorrow as he studied every crease in Claire’s expression.
For the briefest moment, he caught a flicker of something unexpected in her eyes—elation, quickly masked beneath a veil of grief. His gaze darkened slightly. He hadn’t imagined it. Claire was trying to hide it, but he could tell—she had been hoping for this outcome.
The realization disturbed him. Why would she not want the child, especially if it belonged to his Alpha? He couldn’t make sense of it.
But now wasn’t the time to question motives. They still needed to remove the lifeless pup from her womb—if they didn’t act quickly, Claire’s life would be at risk from complications.
"Miss Claire, we need to remove the dead pup from your womb," the doctor said calmly, though his tone carried urgency. "My assistant hasn’t returned with the anesthetics, but we can’t afford to wait any longer. The longer the pup remains inside you, the greater the risk of complications—your life is in danger."
Claire didn’t flinch. She kept crying, but her sobs had softened into something quieter, more resigned. It was as if she had already anticipated this. She nodded slowly, a picture of grief on the surface—but her expression didn’t quite match the sorrow in her voice. The doctor noticed the disconnect, saw through the cracks in her mask. And Claire knew it—felt the weight of being seen through—and turned her gaze away.