Sold as the Alpha King's Breeder-Chapter 1326 - 81 : Panic for the Premature

*Zara*

My heart pounded as I shakily managed to lift my head, needing to see my baby. What I saw caused my heart to clench, panic seizing me once more.

A girl.

There she was... my baby.

Except... she was so tiny, so unbelievably tiny, barely weighing over three pounds. My jaw clenched as dread settled into my very bones at how she looked.

I was right. Something was very, very wrong.

I took in a deep breath, then let it out, then another. My wolf was going crazy. The sight of the baby was sending her into hysterics just like I was.

The baby was clearly underdeveloped, dangerously so. My eyes teared up even further as I let out a gasp, my throat clenching and preventing me from speaking.

The healers swarmed around, trying to stabilize the baby and ensure she would actually survive. Calvin’s voice rang out, saying, “Get the baby to the incubator now. We need to stabilize her vitals.”

I watched as she was whisked away and tried to get up, groaning and gasping with pain. I was so weak. I squeezed Noah’s hand and whispered, “I need to see our baby, Noah, I-I need....”

My voice was soaked with desperation, and my eyes were wide with sheer fear as I fixed them on Noah. His expression was unreadable, though I saw a spark of panic within them as well.

He focused on me and swallowed, then gave a nod. “Of course,” he whispered. He and a few healers, helped me get up and walk slowly to the incubator so that I could peer in.

My baby was hooked up to a bunch of tubes and wires, so tiny, her chest barely moving. I could barely focus between the tears as worry erupted through my entire being.

“Oh, no... no, no, no,” I whispered, turning and burying my face into Noah, losing it into several sobs again. It all was so heavy, and it was the worst thing that could have happened.

The healers continued to rush around us, trying to stabilize her, with urgent whispers going back and forth between them.

I tried to focus on their words, tried to find an ounce of good news, but their tones didn’t indicate that any reassurance was coming soon.

Leaning forward, I tried to focus more, only to sway and almost fall to the ground. Noah stabilized me, staring into the incubator with a furrowed brow.

“Noah... s-she... she doesn’t look like... s-she....”

“Her status is complicated right now,” Calvin said, stepping up next to us, his tone grim. “But you just went through a very harsh labor process. Please, you need to go lay back down.”

“But my baby, I need to make sure she is okay, I need to–”

“Shh, Zara. They will make sure,” Noah said, gently lifting me into his arms and holding me up to his chest. “There is nothing you can do right now. Please, listen to Calvin.”

I took one more glance of despair toward my daughter and let out a whimper of panic. After a moment, I gave in, nodding.

“Okay.”

Noah carried me back to the bed, not leaving my side, but also looking toward the incubator, then the healers, often. He took my hand into his, holding it tightly once more.

The healers came to check on me as well, noting how weak my condition was, but I told them to focus on the baby.

“Please, she needs it far more than me,” I said desperately. Then, in a broken tone, I added, “T-this is all my fault, all my... all my fault.”

I buried my face into my hands and dissolved into sobs, my entire body heaving. My heart was shattered into a thousand pieces, and I felt looks of concern settle on me as I broke down.

Noah’s soft tone caressed my ear. “I’m here for you still, Zara. You’re not alone. Hope isn’t lost. They’ll make sure they do all they can to save her.”

Words flowed around me, haunting ones. So much medical jargon—I tried to understand, tried to grasp something, but I didn’t know what they were saying.

The combination of stress and simply not knowing the terms rendered my brain useless in figuring that out, and I just let out an even more desperate sob.

“Please, please, just tell me everything will be alright,” I told the healers, my tone breaking.

They exchanged wordless glances, trying to figure out how to properly explain the situation to me.

“We will work on making sure she will make it,” Calvin said finally. “She is struggling, Zara. But it isn’t time to give up yet.”

There were no certainties in this situation at all. I could tell based on his tone that the chances of her making it were very low, which caused my heart to clench.

“It isn’t your fault, Zara,” Noah said gently.

“Yes, it is. She may pay the ultimate price because I was stubborn, I... I should have never let stress escalate things, I just... I just—”

“You wanted to figure out what was going on. You’re scared. I am too, for you... so scared.” He got into the bed and wrapped his arms around me, holding me close.

“I should have paid more attention, a-and stopped doing so much, a-and....”

“There was no way you could have known, none at all. You are so full of light and love, Zara. I know this isn’t what you wanted to happen.”

“I should have done more,” I squeaked.

Noah shook his head, giving me a worried smile and staring into my eyes. He took in a deep breath, trying to keep his tone steady. “No. You did all that you could, Zara.”

His eyes looked into mine, and I could see they were thick with worry. “You’ve been dealt so much pain lately.”

I looked down and sobbed into him, trying to calm myself as I felt his fingers gently run through my hair. After I managed to get a few more sobs out, Noah spoke again.

“This isn’t your fault,” he whispered, repeating himself for emphasis, no doubt. “You’ve been so strained, stretched to your limit. These months, all of that... kidnapping.”

He growled, and I leaned up to gaze into his eyes.

The blazing blue swirled with emotion—worry, for me and our baby, sadness, a bit of anger for the people who’d put me through hell, too. I could tell that was what he was thinking about by the bitterness of his tone.

I couldn’t speak anymore. My throat was closed from the sobs and breakdowns I was having.

He whispered into my ear again, saying, “All of that probably triggered the early labor, not what just happened.”

Calvin’s voice sounded out beside us in agreement. “He’s right. One scuffle wouldn’t cause something like this. Please, it isn’t your fault, Zara.”

I shuddered with more sobs, unsure if that could be true. There had to be something more I could have done. Be more careful, maybe? Abandon the lilies sooner?

I desperately wanted my life to continue with the baby, too... to have a career and run my family at the same time, with a loving mate through the mate bond.

In that desperation, I may have lost our baby, I thought.

Guilt continued to rip through me, and I wrapped my arms tightly around Noah, needing the solid reassurance of his arms. He held me there, no hesitation.

He was with me despite our fight, which had been so stressful, despite how I’d snapped at him, insisting on leaving once again... despite how these fragmented memories had tormented him.

He’d been so stressed too, yet here he was, not blaming me for the plight of our daughter. My emotions were so mixed right now, and it was so hard to concentrate.

After a few minutes, the room was cleared a bit to allow my parents to enter, along with Noah’s parents. I peered up from my hug, turning my head to stare up at them.

I noticed their expressions. Their faces were creased with a mixture of hope and worry. My mother looked at the incubator, a relieved smile crossing her face.

That faded almost instantly as she grasped the situation and widened her eyes.

“The baby, she’s so small,” she said. “Oh, no....”

Estella frowned deeply, walking over and studying the baby, wincing. “Any news, Calvin? How is the baby doing?”

“Not well,” he said after a long pause, causing me to give a choked sob. Noah hugged me even more tightly, and I could only be there with him as our baby struggled to survive.

After a few more sobs, I turned my attention to the others in the room, trying to calm myself down so that I could at least speak. My mother and father approached the side of my bed, worry clear in their gaze.

“How are you?” my mother asked softly. “Your labor was very difficult, honey. I’m worried about you, too.”

“I know, I’ll be okay. I j-just want my baby to be okay too,” I whispered, more tears gliding down my cheeks. “I don’t know if she will. She is so tiny, so fragile....”

My father nodded. “She is. But there is a chance she will survive. We need to pray to the Goddess and have faith that she will get through this.”

My mother added, “You have so much love, Zara. That will help. The Goddess knows you care deeply for your baby, just like we do for you.”

I sniffled and shuddered, drawing closer to Noah. “I hope you’re right,” I whispered.

“She is,” Noah whispered into my ear. “If there’s anything I do know, it’s that your passion is very powerful, Zara. It’s one of the many reasons I fell in love with you.”

I felt my heart grow slightly warmer at that, his words calming me down just a little. That, and the concern of my parents. I was so relieved they were here, and that Noah’s were, too.

A silence settled over the group. Everyone organized themselves and took seats, not leaving, but also ensuring that they weren’t in the way of the healers.

They bent their heads, no doubt praying to the Goddess for the fragile little girl in the incubator, with the odds stacked so cruelly against her.

Would our baby make it? I pressed my head against Noah’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

His arms were a blanket, and his words a true comfort. I couldn’t get through this without him here, I thought. He didn’t blame me, even while I blamed myself.

I hoped our faith would help our baby find the strength to make it through.

But dread had a vice grip on my heart.