The Alpha Captain Gave My Home to His First Love

"Absolutely not," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

I grabbed Carter's wrist and pulled him away from the clinic door, dragging him down the blue-tiled corridor until we reached the quiet, sterile corner by the supply closets. My fingers trembled as I shoved the crumpled paper pharmacy bag into his chest.

"Open it," I demanded.

Carter frowned, his brow furrowing as he took the bag. He reached inside and pulled out the silver-ribboned anniversary card first. Then, his fingers brushed against the smooth plastic stick. He lifted it into the harsh fluorescent light.

His thumb dragged over the two pink lines.

"Six weeks," I told him, wrapping my arms around my stomach to shield myself from the sudden chill in the hallway. "I was going to tell you tonight. At our anniversary dinner."

"Naomi," Carter called out, his tone sharp and urgent. He marched back toward her, leaving me standing alone by the closets. "Does an early pregnancy mean she absolutely cannot do the Moon Blood transfer?"

My stomach twisted into a hard knot. He didn't ask if the baby was healthy. He didn't ask how I felt. He asked if I could still bleed for Sienna.

Naomi lowered her tablet, her clinical gaze shifting between Carter's tense frame and my defensive posture. "A supernatural blood transfer forces the donor's wolf to rapidly generate healing cells. In the first trimester, that extreme biological stress carries a severe risk of hemorrhaging and miscarriage. We do not treat this like a standard blood drive, Carter."

"But is it a hard rule?" Carter pressed, stepping closer to the doctor. "Is it physically impossible?"

"If Lena does not consent, no one has the authority to sign for her," Naomi stated, her voice ironclad. "The hospital policy is absolute. I will not authorize the procedure without her signature."

"I didn't know, Lena," he said, staring at the pregnancy test in his hand.

His embrace felt rigid. Before I could lean into his chest, a high-pitched, frantic alarm pierced the quiet. It came directly from Sienna's room.

"Check on her," I said, my voice hollow.

We followed Naomi inside. Sienna lay flat on the examination bed, her face ashen and slick with sweat. The nurses scrambled to silence the monitor, adjusting the IV lines connected to her arm.

"We need a decision on the blood protocol," Naomi announced to the room, checking the vitals on the screen. "The donor is pregnant. We are moving to the backup plan."

Sienna's eyes snapped open. She looked at me, her gaze dropping to my stomach, then darting to Carter.

"Pregnant?" Sienna whispered, her voice trembling. She shook her head frantically against the pillow, pushing herself up on one elbow. "No. Carter, no. I won't take it. I would rather delay the surgery than hurt your baby."

"Delaying means risking permanent damage," Naomi interrupted, tapping her tablet. "If we wait for the synthetic stabilizers, your wolf might not survive the inflammation. You could lose your ability to shift and your athletic recovery entirely."

"Sienna gave up her figure skating career to follow me to this Pack," Carter said, addressing the floor before raising his eyes to mine. "If I had protected her during that rogue attack, she wouldn't even have this injury."

"Carter, do not do this right now," I warned, stepping back toward the door.

"I have carried that failure for years," he continued, stepping closer to my side of the bed, his voice rising. "If she loses her wolf because we made her wait, can you honestly look at her every day and pretend nothing happened?"

"I said no, Carter. Use the backup plan," I insisted, turning my back on him to face the doctor. "Naomi, start the alternative protocol."

"The synthetic prep takes six hours," Naomi explained, crossing her arms. "Sienna's private management team demands the fastest surgical route. They will fight the delay."

Carter seized on the timeline. "Six hours? If her vitals crash while we wait, who takes the blame? The management team will tear this Pack apart."

"Please, don't force Lena," Sienna cried softly. She reached out, her pale fingers wrapping tightly around Carter's sleeve. She pulled him down until his ear was inches from her mouth. "I am just so scared, Carter. What if I wake up and my wolf is gone? What if I am empty?"

He stood up straight and locked his gaze on me. His eyes were cold, completely devoid of the warmth that used to greet me every morning.

"I will not force you to sign the waiver, Lena," Carter said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "But if she loses everything because you refused to help... I do not know if we can ever be the same as before."

The words echoed in the sterile room, striking me harder than a physical blow. He just put our marriage on the chopping block. Refusing the transfer wouldn't save both my baby and my husband. It only meant I had to choose which one I lost today.

I stared at the man I married. The man who built a crib with me two weeks ago.

"Fine," I said, the word tasting like ash on my tongue. "I will do it. On one condition."

Carter exhaled a sharp breath, his posture relaxing slightly. "Name it."

"You stay on my side of the glass the entire time," I demanded, crossing my arms to hide my shaking hands. "And when the transfer is over, you take me home first. Before you check on her."

"Done," Carter agreed without hesitation. He reached out, his hand resting heavily on the back of my neck. "I am right here, Lena."

Naomi signaled the nurses. "Prep the transfer suite. We move in five minutes."

Just as we reached the double doors of the transfer room, a nurse wheeled Sienna out of her clinic room. Her stretcher rolled past us, the metal wheels squeaking against the tile.

"Carter?" Sienna called out, her voice weak but carrying perfectly down the corridor.

Carter stopped walking.

"Will you be there when I wake up?" she asked, tears pooling in her eyes as she reached a hand out toward him. "Can you be the first face I see?"

Carter stood frozen between the open doors of my transfer suite and Sienna's stretcher.

"I will," he answered.

I turned to face him, my chest tightening until it hurt to breathe. "You just promised to take me home first."

Carter didn't retract his word to her. He looked at me, his expression hardened into a mask of pure logistics. "I will manage both sides, Lena. Let's just get this done."

A nurse stepped out of the transfer suite, holding a clipboard with a thick stack of papers. She handed me a black pen.

"I need your signature on the final page of the Moon Blood risk acknowledgment," the nurse said, flipping the document open on the metal counter.

I stared at the dotted line, the tip of the pen trembling as it touched the paper.