Lucien’s POV
THE STEADY beep of the monitor was the only sound in the room when I stepped inside. The scent of antiseptic clung to the air, sharp and sterile, yet beneath it lingered something softer—her scent. Celina’s. Even now, lying pale against the hospital bed, tethered to wires and straps, she radiated the stubborn defiance that made my wolf restless.
My steps slowed without conscious thought. I had imagined this moment too many times over the past few hours—her eyes closed, her breathing too shallow. I’d been seconds away from losing her. And not just her.
The nurse moved past me quietly, murmuring something about the baby’s heartbeat being strong, but I barely heard her. My gaze was locked on Celina. She looked fragile, but I knew better. Fragile things broke easily. Celina did
