Chapter Eleven.

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“Do you want to come to my check up?” I asked Griff as he leisurely ran his large hand up and down my back. I had an appointment with the pack doctor to make sure that the baby was ok and I wanted Griff to be there; both as my best friend and the father of the life inside me.  

He didn’t hesitate to answer, “Yes.”

We had some shower fun before heading down towards the kitchen to get food as we’d been locked up in my room for three days, only poking our heads out to get food. The pack was in chaos when we walked down; mates and families were hugging, there were people everywhere and it was loud.

I walked over to where Pierre was standing with other warriors and tapped his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

He shot a look up to where Jenna and my fathers had appeared. “We’re going on a raid to free captives and kill the hunters in a compound in Ukraine; wolves over there have been dropping like flies because of them.”

Hunters were humans who hunted wolves and other supernatural creatures; they were cruel and inhumane and thought that all supernaturals and anyone associated with them need to be exterminated. Many had ties with gangs and mobs and were ruthless; they often tortured wolves or sent them to labs or dog fighting rings. I knew that Jenna had once been forced into the fights and her father had been killed by them; she had a burning hatred for hunters and I didn’t blame her.

“Kick their asses.” I said, lightly punching his arm.

After that I was pulled away by my dads who enveloped me in a hug. I hugged them back, knowing that where they were going was dangerous and what they were doing was deadly. “I’ll see you when you get back.” I told them. It was my way of saying ‘stay safe, I love you’. I wasn’t overly emotional and although I didn’t show it, I really did care.

They both smiled and gave me one last squeeze before walking out the door with Jenna and the other wolves going on the raid. Jenna had taken a few hundred men with her and the rest stayed behind to guard the pack.

We had a full English breakfast… well Griff did, I simply nibbled on a salad; anything else would have probably made me sick, though I hadn’t tried and wouldn’t risk it.

The appointment went much like the others with weight check, blood pressure and ultra sounds but when the doctor frowned and stared at the screen where our baby lay curled inside me, I became worried.

“What’s wrong?”

He frowned and moved the ultrasound wand again. “I’m not sure; it looks like you have a cyst on your ovary.”

“Will it hurt the baby?” Griff asked, his hand tightening on mine.

The doctor pursed his lips and stared at the screen. “Right now it’s about the size of a grape and won’t hurt the baby, however if it continues to grow and eventually bursts, it could hurt the baby or cause a miscarriage. Right now there’s nothing we can do except keep an eye on it.”

I cleaned up and walked up the steps of the basement without a word to Griff or the doctor. I was angry… angry at myself and my body, anger that I got pregnant in the first place and scared… scared for my baby. Nothing seemed to be going right! I just wanted to punch something!

I was a person that didn’t dwell on bad things but instead let them motivate me to do better, but it was becoming difficult; I’d been captured by terrorists, tortured for weeks, practically been kicked out of the military because I was ‘unstable’, I was still the outcast of the pack and now my baby could very well die.

Griff left me alone for the rest of the day and I holed myself up in my room, laying on my bed and staring up at the ceiling. He knew that I just wanted to be alone.

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