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The next morning, Dr. Chase arrived with my discharge papers and a folder thick with instructions. Her gray
eyes were serious as she settled into the chair beside my bed.
“Your bleeding has stopped completely,” she said, flipping through my chart. “The ultrasound shows your
daughter’s heartbeat is stronger. But Violet, I need you to understand something very clearly. Your
progesterone levels are still dangerously low. The next three months are critical. You’re not out of danger
yet.”
She leaned forward, making sure I was looking directly at her. “Any major emotional upheaval, any physical
strain, any situation that spikes your stress levels could trigger another bleeding episode or worse. I know
you work as an event planner, and I know it’s peak season. But if you try to maintain your current workload
while pregnant, I cannot guarantee you’ll keep this baby.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. My career was just beginning to take off. I had three major events
scheduled in the next month, projects that could establish my financial independence. But the alternative
was losing my daughter, and that wasn’t even a choice.
“What do I need to do?” I asked quietly, my hands moving to rest on my stomach.
Dr. Chase pulled out detailed nutrition guides and supplement schedules. “Complete bed rest for two weeks
minimum. After that, severely limited activity for your entire first trimester. No heavy lifting, no stressful
situations, no long hours on your feet. You’ll need prenatal vitamins daily, avoid caffeine completely, and
come in for monitoring twice a week initially.”
She handed me a prescription for additional progesterone supplements. “Violet, this baby is depending
entirely on you right now. Every choice you make, every stress you allow into your life, directly impacts her
survival. Don’t let pride or external pressures cost you what matters most. If you continue with high-
intensity work and emotional stress, I cannot guarantee this outcome.”
Her bluntness was almost cruel, but I needed to hear it. I took the folders with trembling hands,
memorizing every warning sign and dietary requirement. This was real. This was happening. I was going to
have to rearrange my entire life around keeping my daughter safe.
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” I said firmly, meeting her eyes. “Just tell me she has a chance.”
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“If you follow these guidelines, you’re giving her the best possible chance,” Dr. Chase said, her expression
softening slightly. “That’s all any of us can do.”
My apartment door buzzer rang that evening. I’d been discharged an hour ago and had barely settled onto
my couch when the sound startled me. Through the intercom screen, I saw Evan standing outside with a
large suitcase.
I buzzed him up, confused. When I opened the door, he looked slightly sheepish but determined.
“Medical exchange program,” he explained before I could ask. “Frost Pack medical committee assigned me to
a five–month cross–pack project. I’ll be working at the local wolf clinic here. My temporary housing isn’t
ready yet, so…” He trailed off meaningfully.
I stared at him, my mind immediately suspicious. “You want to stay here? Why not stay with Daemon? Or
Kael? They’re both in the area.”
“I haven’t told them I’m here yet,” Evan said casually, which only made my suspicion deepen.
I crossed my arms. “So our relationship is somehow closer than yours with them? Evan, you literally said.
you didn’t like Celeste a few weeks ago. You mentioned someone ‘not suitable to pursue.‘ That person isn’t
me, is it?”
His expression confirmed my fear before he said anything. My heart sank. This was the last thing I needed
right now.
“No,” I said firmly, before he could speak. “Absolutely not. You can go stay at a hotel.”
“Because of Daemon?” Evan asked, seeing right through me.
I shook my head. “He’s part of it, but mainly it’s just inappropriate. We can’t live together like this.”
Evan smiled slightly. “Then let me at least have dinner here before I go find a hotel? I’ll leave right after.”
That request I couldn’t refuse. I nodded reluctantly and went to the kitchen to start preparing food. When I
opened the refrigerator to pull out ingredients, Evan appeared behind me.
“Let me do it,” he said, reaching for the vegetables in my hands. His fingers brushed mine, and I felt how
hot his skin was.
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Fated to the Alpha Who Killed Me
Chapter 178
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.

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