It had been seven and a half months along—far enough that it had already grown strong.
It had been a fighter.
If it had been born, this pup might have become a warrior. No—it would have. Its blood wasn't of an alpha line, but it carried strength nonetheless, a legacy written in its bones. A child like that could have been Claire's redemption. Her chance at something better.
If only she had let it live.
But as the pack doctor stared down at the lifeless pup in Claire's womb, something felt... off.
He couldn't explain it—couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong—but his instincts, honed by years of experience, were sounding an alarm. The child, though freshly dead, still seemed to radiate something unnatural. A faint, lingering presence clung to it. Power. Aura. Something not yet willing to fade.
It unsettled him.
Still, he pushed the feeling aside. Now wasn't the time for speculation.