ONCE BETRAYED: TWICE RECLAIMED

Pregnancy had drained me completely—my energy, my autonomy, and, on many days, my desire to continue. Whenever I sensed I was getting used to things, the pain intensified, or a new symptom appeared, pulling me down even more. 

It wasn't solely the bodily suffering. It was the unending sense of defeat that burdened me. I lacked a family, a pack, and any strategy. My sole hope—locating Alexander—had nearly disappeared. Ruth had tried her hardest, inquiring about information, pursuing gossip, and even sifting through old receipts and documents from the bar. 

However, every lead turned out to be a dead end. 

"Apologies," Ruth had commented one night, perched at the side of my bed. Her voice was notably gentle, nearly regretful. "I've inquired with everyone I can remember." "If Alex is out there, he wishes to remain hidden." 

The words pierced me profoundly, yet I nodded, feigning acceptance. At my core, however, I wasn't confident that I could. 

As the days progressed into weeks, I completely ceased visiting the kitchen. I wasn't able to endure for long enough to prepare a meal, much less cook for an entire shift. Ruth did not voice any complaints. Cindy and Noah took on the extra tasks, but their generosity only deepened my feelings of guilt. 

"They're treating you kindly because they care," Cindy mentioned one day when she found me sobbing in my room. 

"No," I murmured. "They're being kind because they pity me." "I'm merely a weight." 

Cindy had contested, naturally, but the sensation wouldn't depart from me. I noticed it in Ruth's pause before addressing me, and in Noah's reluctance to come close, uncertain about his words. They were uncertain about how to handle me, and I felt the same way. 

One night, I discovered myself on the rooftop. The wind screamed fiercely around me, chill and stinging, pulling at the edge of my dress. Beneath me, the city stretched infinitely, its lights sparkling like stars upon the earth. 

I was positioned at the brink, gazing down at the road beneath. I took shallow breaths, my hands shaking as I held my belly. 

*This isn't life,* I reflected with resentment. *I am insignificant.* A disappointment. A weight. What is the purpose of all this?* 

The brink appeared to be very near. Just one step, and it would all end—the agony, the despair, the overwhelming isolation. 

"Amelia?" 

The sound surprised me, and I turned quickly, my heart jumping into my throat. A few feet away stood Noah, his ghostly face lit up by the dim glow of the rooftop lights. His golden-brown eyes were open wide with worry. 

"What brings you up here?" he inquired gently, stepping closer with care. 

"Nothing," I retorted, wiping away the tears running down my cheeks. "Leave now, Noah." 

"I can't manage that," he said softly, his hands lifted as though he were nearing a scared creature. "Speak to me." "Kindly." 

"There's no topic to discuss!" My voice cracked while I yelled, the agony spilling out. "You won't get it!" 

His eyebrows knit together, yet he chose not to dispute. Instead, he looked at the door on the roof behind him, then back at me. His jaw clenched with an abrupt resolve. 

Before I could inquire about his actions, Noah dashed toward the door. He twisted the lock with a loud *click*, then rested against the frame, his chest heaving quickly. 

"What are you up to?" I inquired, anxiety rising. 

He did not respond immediately. Instead, he took off his shirt, his hands trembling as he struggled with the buttons. 

"What on earth are you doing?!" I inquired, panic surging. 

He did not respond immediately. Instead, he took off his shirt, his hands trembling as he struggled with the buttons. 

"What on earth are you doing?!" I yelled, retreating. 

"Hold on!" he exclaimed swiftly, his tone pressing. "I have something to show you." 

"Display to me what?" 

Without responding, he stepped into the dim light and shut his eyes. His body started to change, bending and warping in ways that no human form ought to. His skin undulated, fur emerging in waves as his body stretched. 

It happened so fast I hardly had time to scream. For a moment, Noah was positioned there, looking pale and uncomfortable. Next, a wolf occupied his spot. 

The wolf had a golden-brown coat, its fur dense and shimmering in the moonlight. Its eyes, although beastly, were undeniably Noah's. 

I tripped back, my legs unsteady under me. "You... you're a werewolf?" 

The wolf bowed its head, then retreated. Before me, it started to diminish and change shape, the fur withdrawing as Noah became visible again. He squatted, tugging his torn trousers up around his waist. 

"Yeah," he replied quietly, his voice shaking. "I was unsure how to express it to you." 

My heart pounded heavily in my chest. Out of everyone I encountered after departing the pack, I never thought shy, clumsy Noah could belong to my kind. 

"Why is that?" I murmured, my voice hardly detectable. "Why are you presenting this to me at this moment?" 

He paused, looking at his hands briefly before making eye contact with me. "Because," he spoke softly, "I understand the feeling of being alone." To sense that you're the sole person who's unique. However, you are not, Amelia. "You are not by yourself." 

His remarks affected me more deeply than I anticipated. The burden of my feelings—my setbacks, my anxieties, my despair—overflowed in a torrent of sobs. I dropped to my knees, grasping my abdomen as tears shook my body. 

Noah remained in his position, squatting several feet distant. He made no attempt to reach out to me or provide empty comforts. He just remained, his presence calm and stabilizing. 

"You don't need to go through this by yourself," he said gently. "We'll find a solution." "United." 

After weeks, I experienced a glimmer of something I believed I'd lost—hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, I wasn't as isolated as I assumed. 

When Noah proposed to escort me back to my room following that evening on the rooftop, I paused, my heart still weighed down. Yet there was something in his look—calm and understanding—that led me to agree. However, rather than returning to the restaurant, he surprised me by pointing to the other side of the street. 

"Visit my home," he murmured gently. "You appear as though you could benefit from a good meal." 

I was too exhausted to dispute, so I went after him. His apartment was tiny yet inviting, adorned with eclectic furniture and a subtle fragrance of herbs. He motioned for me to take a seat on the couch as he went into the kitchen. 

A few moments later, he came back with a steaming bowl of something aromatic and filling. 

"That's a dish my grandma prepared for my mom when she was expecting my little brother," he said, placing the bowl on the coffee table. "She mentioned it was effective for nausea." 

I took the spoon cautiously, bracing myself for potential stomach pain, but the initial bite felt comforting in my stomach. After several days, I finally succeeded in keeping something down. 

"Thanks," I murmured, tears gathering in my eyes. 

Noah was next to me, a light flush rising on his neck. "It's not important." "I'm happy it was beneficial." 

While we were eating, he talked uncertainly about another topic. "I am familiar with a wolf healer." A person who collaborates with individuals like us. "She may be able to assist you with your pregnancy." 

My spoon became frozen while in the air. "A doctor for wolves?" 

He gave a nod. "She assisted my mother throughout her pregnancies." "I believe she can provide you with more accurate answers than the people can." 

It was a spark of hope I had not dared to envision. "Do you believe she would meet me?" 

"I'll contact her tomorrow," Noah stated firmly. "We'll solve this problem." 

The following day, Noah fulfilled his vow. He guided me to a tiny, remote clinic at the outskirts of the city. Within, a middle-aged woman possessing keen eyes and a soothing demeanor introduced herself as Dr. Halstead. 

She scrutinized me closely, posing questions that highlighted how much I actually lacked knowledge about my own pregnancy. Following the exam, she sat opposite us with a serious look on her face. 

"Werewolves differ from humans," she started. "Our pregnancies demand more than merely adequate nutrition and rest." The connection between partners is essential for the baby's growth. 

The words struck me like a flash of lightning. "Are you suggesting that the father is essential for the pregnancy to continue?" 

"Not strictly the father," Dr. Halstead replied softly, "but a werewolf partner." Their presence offers the strength and assistance your body requires to maintain the pregnancy. 

I gazed at her, my thoughts spinning. "Then Alex… he must have been a werewolf as well." 

Noah tensed up next to me, yet he remained silent. 

"I have no idea where he is," I confessed, my voice trembling. "I haven't laid eyes on him since... since that evening when this occurred." 

Dr. Halstead frowned, her compassion clear. "That makes things more complex." "Your pregnancy will stay unstable without him." 

"What if there's another werewolf?" Noah's voice pierced the quiet, uncertain yet firm. "Must it be the father, or is anyone able to take over?" 

Dr. Halstead inclined her head in contemplation. "It doesn't need to be the dad." Provided that the mother feels at ease with the wolf offering assistance, it will be effective." 

I glanced at Noah, with my heart racing. His inquiry surprised me unexpectedly. 

Upon returning to his apartment, I couldn't contain my curiosity. "Why did you inquire about that?" 

Noah paused, his gaze looking into mine. "Since I'm ready to assist if you allow me to." 

I blinked, uncertain whether I had understood him right. "Assistance in what way?" 

He inhaled deeply, his face turning red. "I'll support you—for the baby." I will supply everything you require: assistance, expenses, attention. You won't need to work anymore, Amelia. "Not while you are experiencing this." 

The heaviness of his words weighed on me, and before I could hold them back, tears rolled down my face. 

"Would you really do that for me?" I murmured, my voice quivering. 

"I would," he replied plainly. 

The sense of relief that engulfed me was tremendous. After months, I finally felt as if I wasn't fighting this battle by myself. I wrapped my arms around him, crying on his chest while he clumsily patted my back. 

The following day, we informed Ruth about our choice. We omitted the werewolf details, naturally, but we explained that Noah and I had chosen to advance our relationship for the benefit of the baby. 

Ruth lifted an eyebrow but chose not to contest. "As long as you both agree, I don't understand why it wouldn't work." "Simply ensure it doesn't impact the work we do here, got it?" 

Cindy shrieked with joy upon discovering it, already joking with Noah about "playing house." The other team members greeted the announcement with smiles and cheers, making me feel more comfortable than I had in weeks. 

Over time, Noah adapted to his role with unexpected comfort. He went with me to all my doctor's appointments, assisted me in purchasing baby items, and insisted on preparing every meal. While our connection began as a necessary collaboration, it slowly evolved into something greater. 

He brought me joy when I believed I couldn't. He grasped my hand when the suffering grew unbearable. He comforted me when my uncertainties were about to overwhelm me. 

When my belly had completely rounded and the baby's kicks intensified, I felt not only gratitude for Noah but also affection for him. And for the first time, I started to consider that perhaps, just perhaps, we might create something genuine together.