Chapter 284 An Infertile Luna

Chapter 284: Chapter 284 An Infertile Luna

Emilia’s POV

I must have passed out, because when I finally lifted my head, everything around me was white.

White lights. White walls. White sheets. And a row of doctors in white coats standing at the foot of the bed, watching me like I might shatter.

The air stank of disinfectant. I hated that smell. Almost as much as I hated the way they were all looking at me, like I was something to be pitied.

"Miss Taylor, are you feeling any better? Please don’t take it too hard. Medicine has come a long way. Nearly eighty percent of infertility cases can be treated these days."

"Get some rest first. Come back tomorrow and we’ll run a more thorough examination."

"And if you’re not satisfied with the results here, you can always seek treatment abroad. The important thing right now is to take care of yourself."

I blinked at them and said nothing. Their words drifted past me like static. My body was sitting upright on that bed, but the rest of me felt like it had already left the room.

"Would you like us to contact your family for you?"

That question made my lashes flicker. Family. I thought of Mila’s face, the way she’d lit up when she asked about the results, the way she talked about grandchildren like they were already running through the pack house halls. I thought of what it meant to be Sebastian’s Luna. A Luna without pups. A Luna who couldn’t give the pack a future.

I pushed myself off the bed and walked out of the ward without answering.

"Miss Taylor, are you sure you should be alone right now?"

A doctor’s voice followed me down the corridor, but I didn’t slow down. I couldn’t hear much of anything anymore.

By the time I stepped out of the hospital, it was already late. The sky over Silverlake had gone black, which felt about right. Fitting, really. Funny how life works. The one thing you want most turns into the one thing that breaks you, and you don’t even see it coming.

I walked without knowing where I was going. My phone kept buzzing in my pocket, over and over, but I let it. I wasn’t in any state to talk to anyone.

"Emilia." Eve stirred inside me, her voice soft and low. "You’re scaring me. Say something."

"I’m fine," I told her. I wasn’t, and she knew it.

I ended up on the beach at the edge of the territory, standing where the sand met the water. When I finally pulled out my phone, Sebastian’s name was glowing on the screen. Calling again. Probably for the tenth time.

I stared at it. And then, before I could think better of it, I drew back my arm and threw the phone as far as I could into the dark water.

It vanished with a small splash. Just like that, the buzzing stopped, and the world went quiet.

Too quiet.

My knees gave out and I dropped onto the sand. The tears came all at once, and I pressed my hands over my face because I didn’t want anyone to see. A couple further down the beach turned at the sound, still wrapped around each other, and I hated them for a second. Hated how easy it looked.

"You don’t have to pretend with me," Eve murmured. "I’m here."

That only made it worse.

I’d spent my whole life learning how to swallow things down. How to keep my chin up when people looked at me like I was less. But this was different. This wasn’t something I could out-stubborn or talk my way past. You can fight almost anything if you’re angry enough. You can’t argue with a body that simply won’t do what you need it to.

I thought about Mila’s hands gripping mine on that sofa. You sweet, wonderful girl. Having you in this family is the luckiest thing that’s happened to us. She wanted a grandchild so badly. And I was supposed to be the one to give her that. That was the whole point of a Luna, wasn’t it? Carry the line. Keep the pack alive.

I couldn’t. I’d never be able to.

Every time I let myself believe happiness was finally within reach, something reached in and took it. And this time it hadn’t just taken a moment or a chance. It had taken the entire future I’d let myself imagine. Black-haired little troublemakers with Sebastian’s scowl. Gone. Sold out from under me by a single piece of paper.

I always thought I was tougher than this. Turns out even I have a breaking point.

"Emilia," Eve said, her voice low and steady. "That report doesn’t change who you are. You still have me."

I choked out something that was half a laugh and half a sob. "Some comfort you are. We’re both broken then."

"We’re not broken," she said quietly. "We’re just tired."

Maybe she was right. But right then, sitting alone in the sand with the tide crawling toward my feet, I didn’t have the strength to believe her. I knew better than anyone what a family without children meant in a pack like ours. I’d watched it my whole life. And that was exactly why I couldn’t stop shaking.

So desperate. So completely, hopelessly desperate.