Bad Love An Alpha’s Regret

The IV in my arm pumps in a saline solution now. But there is another bag of yellowish liquid that they’re waiting to administer.

Chemotherapy.

Adam came in with an oncologist and they outlined a treatment plan. I didn’t pay attention to the specifics of it. I trust that Adam will guide me toward the best treatment. And they seem to have a plan mapped out and the chemo ready to go. They’re waiting on some last blood tests that Adam ordered and then I’ll begin treatment.

I stare at that bag of chemicals like it’s an enemy-and yet it’s my only hope.

My chances of survival are low. The oncologist that visited with me was very clear about that. I appreciate the honesty.

He talked about treatment options, timelines, percentages of success and failure.

This is an advanced form of liver ca ncer and it is Stage IV.

There is less than a 5% chance of survival. 5% is something I suppose. But I’m not optimistic of beating those odds.

It’s more about buying time. There’s a chance this can halt the progression for a few months. And for now, I’m wiling to take that.

My father and my pack have been manipulated by Aaron and the events he set in motion forced my father to take his own life.

to be

get away with what he

need to live long enough to make Aaron pay.

at my bedside. “The pack wants to conduct the ceremony to bury

“When?”

“Tonight.”

sun is already setting. “You should

About all of this.” He means the ca ncer too. “We

left. I’m not strong enough to survive it.” And I think he’s

this treatment works, if it pushes the discase back, then, yes. I will undergo the ritual

he proposes that I undergo the transformation, that’s not to say

healthiest of humans, only a handful

death sentence, more than likely.

in an uproar.

back for you well before midnight. Or

“Thank you.”

don’t want to miss the funeral

worth, I’m sorry,

long have you known that my marriage isn’t valid?” I ask him. I’ve lived among