Lysandra’s POV

Pain. That was the first sensation to register as consciousness slowly returned. A dull throb behind my temples, followed by the sharp clarity of worry as memory crashed back.

My hands flew instinctively to my stomach, panic rising in my throat. The twins. Were they safe?

“Don’t worry, Lysandra.” Dr. Rylan’s steady voice cut through my fear. “Your little wolf cubs are fine for now.”

I turned toward him, blinking against the harsh hospital lights. He was studying a tablet displaying ultrasound images of the twins. Silver moonlight filtered through the blinds, casting long shadows across the sterile room.

“Was it… was it Tristan who brought me here?” I asked, my mouth dry.

Dr. Rylan set the tablet on the bedside table and approached me, his silver-streaked hair catching the moonlight. “Yes, but he’s gone now.”

“Does he know?” I couldn’t keep the tremor from my voice.

“If you hadn’t told him before, he doesn’t know now. I recorded this visit as simple exhaustion and dehydration.”

Relief washed over me, quickly followed by a wave of nausea that had nothing to do with pregnancy. Tonight was the full moon – the night the bloodline severance ritual would take place. My gaze drifted to the window, where the perfect circle of the moon hung heavy in the night sky.

I noticed my suitcase and purse sitting on a chair by the bed. So Tristan truly meant for me to leave. The finality of it struck me with unexpected force.

“Dr. Rylan, may I ask you something?” My fingers twisted in the sheets, knuckles turning white.

“Of course.” He regarded me with kind eyes, one of the few people who treated me like a person rather than a defect.

“Please don’t tell Tristan about the twins.”

His eyebrows rose. “You haven’t told him yet?”

“No, and I never will.” My voice grew stronger. “He signed the Severance Scroll. Tonight I’ll go through the rite.”

His expression turned grave. “Lysandra, do you understand how dangerous that is for someone without a wolf? Let alone while carrying twins?”

“I know the risks,” I said, my palm resting protectively over my stomach. “But I’m concerned the ritual might harm them.”

“But Lysandra, they’re heirs to the Wolfbane bloodline. Tristan has the right to—”

“No.” I cut him off firmly. “He would never accept them, which means I need to protect them from him. Please, if you want them safe, help me.”

Dr. Rylan fell silent, fingers tapping against the tablet in a rhythm that matched my racing heart. Finally, he turned and walked to a cabinet, retrieving a small cobalt blue bottle.

“This is Twin Shield potion, designed for pregnant women undergoing blood rituals. It will protect your twins during the ceremony, shielding them from most of the pain. But you—” he fixed me with a serious look, “—you will feel everything, possibly more intensely than normal.”

He handed me the bottle. “Take it fifteen minutes before the ritual begins. Even with this, the risks remain significant.”

I accepted the tiny bottle, holding it as if it contained liquid hope. “I understand. Thank you.”

“You know this means you’ll become a Rogue. That’s dangerous, Lysandra.”

“Yes, but I have no choice.” I tucked the bottle into my pocket and swung my legs over the side of the bed.