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I press a kiss to her hair.

And I make a promise.

I’ll find the truth. I’ll protect her. No matter what it costs.

Chapter Twenty

LILA WINTER

Everything’s been going so smoothly that I didn't want to listen to my gut, but Lina started coughing last night when I was making dinner while Alaric was raining kisses down on my neck.

Alaric was the first to respond to Lina by giving her water. Her coughing stopped, and Lina said she was fine. I didn't buy it for a second.

This morning, I went to wake her up, and looking at her, I felt like something wasn’t right.

Lina said she was fine. My gut said otherwise.

That’s the reason why we are back at Saint Jude’s Hospital.

Alaric couldn’t come with us. He’s dealing with urgent pack matters. He’d growled when the call came in, like the mere idea of leaving our side was unthinkable. But he left Ethan in his place.

And well, Ethan is being his usual silent, brooding, and judgy self. He hasn’t left me and Lila even for a minute. I have a feeling Alaric told him to follow us to the bathroom if need be.

Being back in this hospital today makes me feel sick. It might be clean, but I hate the sterile smell, I hate the pang of unease building inside me like a volcano about to erupt.

I tighten my hold on Lina’s hand as we sit in the waiting room. Her head rests on my shoulder, drowsy but awake. Her curls are messy. Her little sweater is slightly askew. And her skin’s still too pale for my liking.

I don’t like this at all.

As if she can feel my anxiety, Lina lifts her head, peering at me. “Mommy, is the doctor going to poke me again, today?”

I smooth her hair and hold her chin. “No more pokes today, baby. Just a little check-up, okay?”

Lina nods like she trusts me completely, and I feel like a knife is jabbed in my heart, because deep down, I know something’s wrong.

My baby doesn’t look okay.

Yesterday was filled with hours of me having to hold Lina’s hand while they ran their tests. I almost breathe a sigh of relief when we find ourselves in the consultation room instead.

The healer seated opposite us is a different one today. She’s an older woman with kind eyes and the signature practiced smile that all healers have.

She checks Lina’s vitals, studies her test results, and then turns to me with a calm expression I instantly mistrust.

“Miss Winter,” she says gently, “we’ve reviewed the last few rounds of bloodwork. Lina’s condition has...worsened.”

I blink like I’ve just gotten a punch to the teeth. “Worsened? The last healer here told me my daughter had a fever and there was nothing to worry about.”

“I understand that and believe me, I am sorry because the former healer wasn’t equipped with the knowledge of the illness your daughter carries…”

I almost choke.

I wrap a tight hand on my girl, who’s curled up in my lap.

“Illness?” My throat wobbles with unshed tears. “What illness?”

I know the answer, but I refuse to believe it.

I refuse to acknowledge my wolf’s distress.