Reba’s POV
A
“You’re sure this isn’t just the aftermath of my concussion?” I asked as Adrian’s car pulled into the private hospital s parking lot. The same hospital Dominic had taken me to before.
Adrian shook his head, his expression serious. “Brain injuries can have dyed effects, andbined with your sudden nausea, I didn’t want to <b>take </b>chances. He parked the car and turned to me. I know it’s probably nothing serious, but better safe <b>than </b>sorry.”
“Thank you for bringing me,” I said sincerely. “You really didn’t have to.”
“Your state in ss concerned me,” he replied, his eyes studying my face. “And then when you suddenly ran out like <b>that</b>… I couldn’t in good conscience let you go home alone.”
We walked into the hospital together, and I couldn’t help noticing how different it felt from when Dominic had brought me. There was no staff rushing to attend to us, no <b>immediate </b>deference. We were just ordinary patients.
After checking in at reception, <b>we </b>sat in the waiting area. Adrian thumbed through a magazine while I fidgeted nervously, wondering if I should text Dominic. But what would <b>I </b>say? That I was at the hospital again but didnt know what was wrong? He’d drop everything ande running, and it was probably nothing.
Finally, a nurse called my name and led me to an examination room. Adrian remained in the waiting area, assuring me he’d be there when I finished.
The doctor
or who entered was a middle–aged woman with kind eyes and an efficient manner. She began asking me detailed questions about my symptoms–the fatigue, the <b>nausea</b>, my recent medical history including the concussion.
“And when was yourst menstrual cycle, Ms. <b>Brown</b>?” she asked, making notes on her tablet.
I had to think about it. With everything that had happened–the attack, the hospital stay, the resort–1 hadn’t been tracking closely. “I’m not sure… maybe five weeks ago? I’ve been irregrtely with all the stress<b>.</b><b>” </b>
She nodded. “I’d like to run some blood tests and a urine sample, just to cover all bases. It could be lingering effects from your concussion, but we should rule out other possibilities.”
After providing the samples, I returned to the waiting <b>room </b>where Adrian sat patiently. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“Just waiting for results,” I replied, trying to <b>sound </b>more confident than I felt.
It felt like hours, but was probably only about forty–five minutes when Dr. Chen called me back to the examination room. Adrian stayed behind again, giving me an encouraging nod.
The doctor’s expression was professional but held a hint of surprise as she looked at her tablet. “Ms. Brown, your
blood test results show elevated levels of human chorionle gonadotropin–HCG.
I stared at her nkly. “What does that mean?”
“It suggests you may be in the very early stages of pregnancy,‘ she said gently. Approximately two weeks along. based on the levels,”
The room seemed to tilt around me. “Pregnancy?” I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper. That’s impossible. I mean–it’s only been two weeks since I stopped myself, mind racing.
Two weeks. Since Dominic and I… since the night I’d marked <b>him</b>.
“This can’t be right,” I <b>said</b>, shaking my <b>head</b>. “It’s too soon to have symptoms, isn’t it?”
The doctor’s expression <b>was </b>thoughtful. “Typically, yes. Most women don’t experience noticeable symptoms this early. However, everyone’s body responds differently to hormonal changes. Some women are particrly sensitive, especially if… she hesitated slightly, “if the father <b>has </b>certain gic traits that might affect development rates.”
“I’d like to conduct further tests to confirm,
che continued, “but the blood test is highly urate. <b>Would </b>the father
happen to be… someone with unique gic traits?<b>” </b>
I swallowed <b>hard</b>, understanding her careful wording. “Yes,” I whispered.
She nodded, as if this confirmed something. “That would exin the elerated symptoms. In cases of mixed gics, development can progress more rapidly, and the mother’s body often reacts more strongly to the hormonal changes.”
My hand moved instinctively to my stomach. A baby. Dominic’s baby. A human and a werewolf. My mind spun with implications I couldn’t begin to process.
“Is it… will it be okay?” I asked, suddenly afraid. “The baby, I mean. With the mixed… gics.”
The doctor’s expression softened. “From what we know, such pregnancies are <b>rare </b>but viable. They do require specialized care, which we can provide here. I’ll prescribe some prenatal vitamins formted for your specific situation.”
She handed me several pamphlets and a prescription<b>. </b>“We should schedule you for an early ultrasound in about two weeks. Sooner than we’d normally do, but given <b>the </b>circumstances<b>, </b>it’s advisable.”
I nodded numbly, clutching the papers. “Thank you,” I managed.