Claimed by the Alpha's Love (Tori and Lucas) novel Chapter 214

Chapter 214

Tori’s POV:

Something flashed across Lucas’s face-too quick for me to catch in my weakened state.

But Tracy, my inner wolf, is smiling knowingly.

He’s lying, she whispers.

I tried to push myself up on my elbows, wincing as pain shot through my abdomen.

“I want to see the baby,” I whispered, my voice hoarse from disuse. “Please Lucas.”

Lucas hesitated, his silver eyes darkening. Then he nodded, gently placing his hand behind my back.

He carefully helped me sit up, his movements deliberately slow. “I’ll carry you.”

“I can walk,” I protested weakly. But the protest was invalid.

He wrapped a thick blanket around my shoulders, tucking it securely around my legs before lifting me with careful precision.

I nestled against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart as he carried me down the hallway toward the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.

The antiseptic smell of Moontouch Medical Center intensified as we approached the NICU. Lucas murmured something to a nurse, who nodded and held the door open for us.

My breath caught as we entered the room lined with incubators.

Lucas carried me toward one in the far corner, marked with the Grayson Pack insignia. As we drew closer, I could see the tiny form inside, connected to monitors and tubes that seemed impossibly large against such a small body.

“Our baby,” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes.

Lucas gently set me in a chair beside the incubator, his hand never leaving my shoulder. Through the clear plastic, I could see our child-so impossibly small, with translucent skin and a dusting of hair.

“You were right,” I said softly, glancing up at Lucas. “He does have my nose, doesn’t he?”

Lucas coughed suddenly, his expression momentarily blank before he cleared his throat. ‘I, uh-yes. Definitely your nose.

I frowned, looking up at Lucas with questioning eyes. “Lucas… how much me have you actually spent here with the baby?”

He coughed again, more deliberately this time, and squeezed my shoulder,

“The important thing is that he’s getting stronger every day. The doctors said the Alpha bloodline will make our little one stronger than an ordinary premature baby,” Lucas explained, his voice low.

I placed my palm against the incubator, wishing I could touch the baby’s sin, feel the heartbeat against my own. “Boy or girl?” I asked,

suddenly realizing I didn’t know.

“A boy, Lucas said, and this time his pride was unmistakable. ‘I was thinking we might name him Ryan… after your brother.”

Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks.

The wound of losing my brother had never fully healed, but hearing Lucas suggest honoring him this way made something break and mend

simultaneously in my heart.

“Ryan, I repeated, watching the gentle rise and fall of our son’s chest. Ryan Grayson. It’s perfect.”

We stayed there for several minutes, neither of us speaking.

I memorized every detail of our son’s face, his tiny clenched fists, the slight twitch of his lips as he slept.

The maternal bond strengthened with every second. As I watched, our tiny son seemed to sense my presence, his small body shifting ever so

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