Chapter 487
Third Person’s POV
Doctor Digby administered oxytocin and blood–clotting agents. The scent of oxytocin filled the air, and everyone turned pale.
The dosage had to be precise; otherwise, not only would this pregnancy be lost, but future pregnancies would be nearly impossible.
The royal physician, hearing the prescription, thought only one thing– Digby was pulling out all the stops in a final attempt to save Melinda.
Finally, after the chaos and with the help of the previously administered hemostatic and nutritional agents, Melinda, though exhausted, regained some strength.
The oxytocin triggered strong contractions. Melinda felt a distinct sensation of pressure.
The midwife urged her to push. With several difficult efforts, the baby was born.
Digby left the delivery room, leaving Galvin and the midwife to handle the aftermath.
The infant was a boy, but he was cyanotic and lifeless.
Luna Chloe, seeing the resemblance to Dwight, wept.
Luna Skye also tearfully mourned her “poor grandson.”
Digby coldly remarked, “Worry about your daughter first.”
Melinda was hemorrhaging. Too much blood–circulating medication had been used, and now hemostatic agents and injections were needed.
The baby was born, but Melinda was still in critical condition.
Adelaide stayed by Melinda’s side, holding Melinda’s hand.
Melinda had already passed out. Following Digby’s instructions, Galvin administered medication and injections, which Adelaide dutifully assisted with.
Paisley was in shock.
She had feared witnessing childbirth, but the tense situation left no room for fear–only hope for Melinda’s safety.
Seeing Melinda brush with death repeatedly and still in danger, she felt a deep sorrow.
Why endure such suffering?
If it were for someone worthy/that would be one thing. But to go through this for an unworthy man, nearly dying and possibly losing her life- it was too much.
Paisley’s resolve to stay unmated only strengthened.
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Her body, future, and life were her own. She would not hand them over to a stranger.
No one was worth such sacrifice, not even someone she loved.
If he truly loved her, he would never let her endure such agony. If he disagreed, his love wasn’t enough, and she shouldn’t force herself.
But she knew not everyone could feel this way.
Her confidence and fallback were rooted in knowing the Crimson Flame Pack would always be her home.
She decided to support Adelaide’s women’s education initiative with funds and manpower.
Now, though, the priority was saving Melinda’s life.
Luna Chloe took the deceased infant outside. Her cold sandalwood pheromones were laden with grief.
The old Luna wailed, her silver–gray wolf fur disheveled in tears, her pheromones like shattered glass.
Ignoring her, Luna Chloe approached Dwight.
Bound for so long, his face was purplish–red from poor circulation. The wolf–head totem on his neck burned with humiliation and fear.
“Look at your son,” Luna Chloe said, holding the baby up. “You killed him.”
Her tears were still wet on her face. Her voice was calm at first but soon erupted in anger, her a thunderous roar.
presence like
“When will you settle down? When will you stop causing trouble? Look what you’ve done–you’ve killed your own son and disrupted the entire pack. What makes you think you can act this way? Because you think Melinda’s infatuation with you gives you the right to abuse her? She’s still fighting for her life, and you don’t even realize your mistake?”
Her wolf claws silently extended in her palms, her nails digging deep into the flesh until blood began to seep out.
Dwight averted his gaze, unwilling to look at the child.
He heard all the dangers and struggles inside. His pine pheromones were as tangled as wind–torn thread.
He couldn’t describe his feelings at the moment. He just kept murmuring, “I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill him.”
“Take him away!”
He muttered, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, his pupils constricting with resistance. “I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to.”
But he caught a glimpse of the child–a lifeless body in swaddling clothes.
This child should have been crying and moving, yet there was no sound.
He was so handsome, so lovely.
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It was his son, dead!
He let out a whimper and burst into howls of grief. His pine pheromones shattered, and his wolf cars drooped uncontrollably. “Take him away! Mother, I know I’m wrong. Let me down. I want to see her. I really know I’m wrong.”
Tears streamed down Luna Chloe’s face. Her sandalwood pheromones were heavy with grief.
“It’s too late, Dwight. Everything is too late. Some things, once they happen, can never be undone. Your child can’t come back to life, and nothing can ever go back to the way it was.” D
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