ONCE BETRAYED: TWICE RECLAIMED

The apartment was calm that evening, except for the gentle buzz of the radio playing softly in the background. I was sorting through the baby's items—a couple of pre-owned onesies, a cherished bassinet, and a assortment of mismatched toys Noah had insisted on purchasing despite my objections. 

I brushed my fingers along the bassinet's rim, a slight smile playing on my lips. After a lengthy period, I experienced a hint of tranquility. This small house, this small life we were creating—it wasn't flawless, but it belonged to us. 

Then the initial surge of pain struck. 

It began as a constant pain, spreading from my lower back. Initially, I dismissed it, attributing it to the typical discomforts of late pregnancy. However, as the second wave arrived, more intense and demanding, I understood what was occurring. 

"Noah," I murmured, grasping the bassinet for stability. 

The agony bent me down, and I breathed sharply, clutching the edge with such force that my knuckles went pale. 

"NOAH!" This time, my voice was stronger, more insistent. 

Through the connection we had formed—a mental link that Noah had carefully instructed me on—I reached out to him once more. *Noah, it's beginning. I require your assistance.* 

The reply was prompt. *I'm heading there now. Wait a moment.* 

Minutes seemed like hours while I walked around the apartment, the contractions intensifying with every moment. As Noah pushed through the door, his face drained of color from anxiety, I was about to faint. 

He didn't hesitate for a moment, lifting me effortlessly into his arms as though I were weightless. "We're heading to the doctor," he announced, his voice calm even though his eyes showed fear. 

Dr. Halstead's home clinic was cozy and softly illuminated, with the fragrance of herbs hanging in the atmosphere. She hurried us indoors, her keen gaze evaluating the circumstances with skilled precision. 

"Place her here," she directed, indicating a cushioned table. 

Noah stood close by, his hands tightening and loosening while I screamed in agony. "You're doing really well," he whispered, pushing the wet hair away from my brow. "You can do it, Amelia." 

The labor had exhausted all my strength, yet when Dr. Halstead handed me the baby, a surge of wonder and love flooded over me, briefly overshadowing the pain. 

"She's flawless," I murmured, tears flowing down my face. Her small form felt warm and gentle, her cries diminishing as I held her tightly. 

Noah floated next to me, his face reflecting both relief and awe. "She's stunning," he whispered, his hand gently placed on my shoulder. 

However, when I moved to gain a clearer view of her, I became still. 

Her eyes gradually opened, showcasing a striking electric blue that appeared to shine even in the low light of the clinic. Their eyes were unlike those of any newborn I had encountered—bright, intense, and unsettlingly familiar. 

"Her eyes," Noah murmured, his voice just above a whisper. 

I nodded, my breath catching in my throat. "They belong to Alex," I murmured, a chill coursing through me. 

Before either of us could speak further, the baby moved in my arms, emitting a gentle whimper. Her little mouth stretched open, and to our amazement, two small yet noticeable fangs jutted from her gums. 

"What the—" Noah started, but before he could complete his thought, the fangs withdrew, vanishing as if they had never existed. 

Dr. Halstead, poised to tidy up, turned abruptly at Noah's surprised voice. She moved swiftly, her keen eyes fixating on the infant. "What occurred?" 

"She… she possessed fangs," I stuttered, my voice quaking. "They were present for a brief time, and then they… vanished." 

The doctor's forehead creased, her lips forming a tight line. "Let me have a look," she said, carefully taking the baby from my embrace. 

I observed nervously as Dr. Halstead assessed her meticulously, inspecting her gums, her eyes, and her pulse. The room remained quiet, broken only by the baby's gentle coos, with each second dragging on painfully. 

At last, the doctor stood tall, her face serious. "This is… uncommon," she remarked, selecting her words thoughtfully. "I have never come across anything similar to this previously." 

"Is she alright?" Noah inquired with urgency, his tone laced with concern. 

"She appears to be in good health," Dr. Halstead remarked slowly, "but these features—the eyes, the fangs—are unusual, even for werewolf hybrids." 

I gripped the side of the exam table, my heart racing. "What is the significance of that?" "Is she at risk?" 

The doctor paused, her gaze shifting between Noah and me. "It's difficult to be sure, but distinctive characteristics like these can draw interest." "If someone outside this room happened to see them…" She paused, allowing the suggestion to linger noticeably in the atmosphere. 

"From whom should I expect attention?" Noah inquired, his jaw clenching. 

"Different werewolves." Scoundrels. "Even hunters among humans," Dr. Halstead remarked, her voice quiet. "Anything unusual is viewed as either precious or perilous, based on the perspective of the observer." A child like her, possessing distinct characteristics… she might become a target. 

A shiver tingled through me, prompting me to wrap my arms around myself. "What actions can we take?" I inquired, my voice trembling. 

Dr. Halstead exhaled deeply, her expression becoming gentler. "In order to comprehend her situation and ensure her safety, I require additional details." In particular, I must look into her father. 

The reference to Alexander brought a flood of hopelessness upon me. "I have no idea where he is," I exclaimed, my voice trembling. "I haven't laid eyes on him since the evening she was conceived." "I'm not even sure what his complete name is." 

The doctor's lips formed a tight line. "That makes things more complicated," she said softly. "Without him, I am unable to determine the origin of her characteristics or anticipate how they may evolve." "And if these characteristics develop more as she matures…" She paused, her voice becoming serious. "It might render her even more defenseless." 

Noah placed a calming hand on my shoulder, his grip strong yet tender. "What happens if he's untraceable?" he inquired. "Is there an alternative method to safeguard her?" 

Dr. Halstead slowly shook her head. "You must remain alert." Conceal her from anyone who could perceive her as a danger—or as a chance. And if there's a possibility of locating the father, you must seize it. His presence might anchor her growth and supply the solutions we require." 

Her words made me feel empty inside. I looked down at my daughter, her bright blue eyes glancing up at me innocently, oblivious to the burden now resting on us both. She was stunning, flawless even—but also an enigma that could bring peril to our home. 

"I'll do anything necessary to ensure her safety," I said, my voice steady even though tears stung my eyes. 

Noah knelt next to me, his eyes steadfast. "We will do whatever is necessary," he amended, his tone firm. "You're not alone in this, Amelia." 

The physician agreed, her demeanor becoming a bit gentler. "You're powerful," she whispered softly. "Both of you." "However, this journey will be challenging." 

I nodded, although my heart was burdened by the heaviness of her words. As we exited the clinic and entered the night, I held onto my daughter and the delicate assurance of safety that Noah's presence provided. 

Yet beneath it all, I couldn't rid myself of the anxiety that locating Alexander could be the sole means to genuinely safeguard her—and that I was completely clueless about where to start.