Chapter 214
Chapter 208
Susan’s POV:
77%
Medical staff in crisp white coats moved with purposeful urgency. The sharp scent of antiseptic mixed with the underlying musk of various wolf
scents.
A nurse looked up as I entered, her expression shifting from professional courtesy to concern.
“Ma’am, are you alright? Do you need-
“The emergency call,” I gasped, gripping the reception desk for support. Charlotte appeared at my elbow, trying to steady me, but I shook her off. “The Omega in labor. I’m here to donate. I have healing blood. I p>
The nurse’s eyes flickered to me. “Third floor, hematology wing. But you’ll need to pass the screening first. We can’t accept donations from
anyone who p>
I was already moving toward the elevators.
The elevator seemed to take an eternity. I watched the numbers climb-1…2… 3-each second stretching like taffy.
My reflection in the polished doors showed a woman I barely recognized: lver hair disheveled, eyes wild, face pale with strain.
I looked like I had twenty-two years ago, in those dark months after they took my daughter.
The doors opened to reveal a bustling corridor.
Signs directed me toward “Emergency Blood Services,” and I followed them on autopilot.
Amniotic fluid embolism. One of the most dangerous complications of childbirth. The mortality rate was horrific, even with modern medicine. The mother’s blood pressure would drop catastrophically. The heart could fail. The lungs could fill with fluid.
And the baby-
I pushed the thought away and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
The blood services area was organized chaos.
Several wolves sat in comfortable chairs, their arms extended as medical staff drew blood into specialized collection bags. The air hummed with
low conversation and the quiet beeping of monitoring equipment.
A woman in a white coat approached me, her name tag reading “Dr. Sarah hen, Hematology Specialist p>
“Are you here for the emergency donation?” she asked, her tone professional but kind,
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“Excellent. We’re running the standard screening process. Blood type verification, healing capability assessment, and family relation check. It
should only take about fifteen minutes. If you’ll follow me-
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Chapter 208
༥ ༢ 76%
My arms strained as I propelled my wheelchair forward, struggling to keep pace with Dr. Chen’s brisk walk. “Please, I gasped, ‘can’t we hurry? Every second-
Mrs. Shepherd. She paused, turning to face me with professional patiene I understand your concern, but this patient is already our highest priority. The entire hospital is mobilized. We’re operating at maximum speed while maintaining safety protocols p>
The screening was swift but thorough. Blood drawn, samples labeled, tests initiated. Then I was directed to wait in the corridor with other
potential donors.
I positioned my wheelchair where I could watch the treatment room doors my hands gripping the armrests until my knuckles went white.
Charlotte arrived moments later, slightly breathless. She crouched beside my wheelchair, her hand covering mine. ‘Mother, it’s going to be
alright. Don’t worry p>
I wanted to believe her.
Nearby, a cluster of potential donors had gathered, their conversation drifting over to where I sat.
“I just asked my cousin who works here,” one man was saying, his voice carrying easily in the waiting area. “He said treating amniotic fluid embolism requires massive blood transfusions-maybe a hundred thousand milliliters or more. The husband’s spending hundreds of millions
just on blood alone p>
“Damn,” a younger wolf whistled low. “Wonder who the patient’s mate is. Must be loaded p>
The young man smirked. “Patient’s probably a stunning beauty. Otherwise her mate would’ve just let nature take its course, you know p>
“What a disgusting thing to say.” A woman in a crisp business suit turned to glare at him. “So beautiful women’s lives matter but ordinary women’s don’t? Her mate is willing to spend that money because he has responsibility and integrity. Unlike some people who have empty
pockets but still judge by appearances p>
“I was just making conversation,” the young man snapped, his face reddening. “Why are you making such a big deal out of it? What’s it to you
anyway p>
“Because attitudes like yours p>
“Enough.” An older one cut them off with a sharp gesture. “We’re here to help save a life, not argue about hypotheticals p>
The tension simmered but didn’t boil over.
I barely registered their words, my attention fixed on those closed doors, willing them to open and call my name.
Minutes dragged by like hours.
Then a nurse appeared in the doorway, clipboard in hand. “When I call your name, follow me to the collection room p>
She began reading off names. One by one, donors stood and filed through the doors.
I sat straighter in my wheelchair, waiting.
More names. More people left.
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Chapter 208
Still not mine.
The waiting area gradually emptied until only a handful of us remained. Then just Charlotte and me.
The nurse finished her list and turned to leave p>
76%1
Panic surged through me. I propelled my wheelchair forward, blocking her path. “Excuse me-nurse, please. What about me p>
She looked harried, stressed. “If your name wasn’t called, you need to leave. We don’t have time for-
“But I’m healthy,” I insisted, my voice rising. “My blood type matches. AB negative. Why wasn’t I called p>
The nurse’s expression hardened with impatience. “Ma’am, if you weren’t selected, there’s a reason. Now please-
“I need to help!” The desperation in my voice surprised even me. “Please, just check again. There must be some mistake p>
She was already turning away, clearly done with the conversation, when something made her pause. Perhaps it was the tears streaming down
my face. Perhaps it was the raw anguish in my voice.
Her expression softened slightly. With a sigh, she flipped open her tablet, crolling through the screening results.
Then her face changed.
“Susan Shepherd?” she asked, her voice sharp.
I nodded.
Her frown deepened, and when she spoke again, her tone had shifted to one of stern disapproval.
“Didn’t anyone tell you? Direct blood relatives cannot donate healing blood to each other. The rejection risk is fatal. Mrs. Shepherd…” She
paused, her eyes boring into mine. “Did you really come here trying to donate blood to your own daughter? Don’t you understand you could kill
her p>
The words hit me like a physical blow.
The waiting room seemed to tilt sideways. Charlotte’s gasp barely registered through the roaring in my ears.
2
My daughter.
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