Chapter 49 Chapter 49. Bite Marks and Mourning
Cut the bond? Not a chance. Even if Kieran was dead, he would still bind Zoria to him and never allow her to sever the bond.
Zephyr strode forward, grabbed Zoria’s hand, and roughly yanked her away from Kieran.
“Zoria, that’s enough!”
“Zephyr, let go of me!” Zoria glared at him with bloodshot eyes, her gaze stained red, as if soaked in blood.
Zephyr stiffened. He narrowed his eyes, his voice turning cold and dangerous. “What? You planning to make trouble with me now?”
He had always twisted her hoarse screams into nothing more than “causing trouble for no reason”.
Zoria lowered her head and bit down hard on Zephyr’s wrist. She bit like a crazy female. The sharp fangs of a wolf-blooded being sank deep into his flesh. The metallic taste of blood flooded her mouth, yet she still refused to let go.
Zephyr frowned in pain but did not release her. He pulled Zoria tightly against his chest, locking her in his arms, then ordered the warden, “Handle his body.”
Zoria immediately released Zephyr’s wrist and screamed, “Don’t touch my dad!”
“Zoria, your dad is already dead,” Zephyr was forced to say it again.
Seeing Kieran about to be taken away, Zoria lost control and rushed forward, clutching the white sheet and yanking it hard. The cloth was torn away.
Zoria froze.
Kieran’s upper body had been stripped bare. His exposed chest was soaked in blood, the wound there so shocking it made her shudder.
A sharp shard of glass was embedded deep in his heart, leaving a gaping hole, flesh and blood mangled beyond recognition.
Zoria bit her lip hard, breathing raggedly from the pain. Suddenly, darkness fell before her eyes. Zephyr had covered them with his hand.
“Let me go…” Zoria slammed her forehead into his palm, struggling to draw breath. “Zephyr… let me go…”
Zephyr did not release her. He pressed his hand more tightly over her eyes and felt his palm grow wet.
All Zoria could feel was unbearable pain in her chest. Seeing the shard of glass lodged in her father’s heart made her feel as if her own heart had been pierced as well, pain so intense that cold sweat poured from her.
She clutched her chest, her body curling in agony. Zephyr caught her, trying to let her lean against him, but her body kept sliding down. Only when the wardens lifted Kieran and carried him out did Zephyr finally remove his hand from her eyes.
Zoria trembled violently, her face pale as paper. Zephyr immediately sensed that something was wrong.
“Zoria, what’s wrong with you?”
She could no longer hear him clearly. All she felt was her abdomen twisting, then sinking heavily, as if something were being dragged downward, pain so fierce it made her feel like she was dying.
She felt heat and wetness between her legs, sticky and spreading. Blood flowed down her thighs to her ankles. Her vision went black.
“Mm…” Zoria let out a soft moan of pain.
Her body went limp and fell backward. Zephyr reached out to catch her, and his hand touched the wetness. When he saw his hand covered in blood, his breath caught in his throat.
He scooped Zoria up, repeating like a male out of his mind, “Hospital… to the hospital…”
The scene was cruelly familiar. The last time Zoria lost the baby, it had been exactly the same—blood soaking her entire lower body.
Zoria clutched her stomach, leaning against Zephyr’s chest. Inside her, the pain churned violently, as if something were tearing her apart, twisting her insides into shreds.
It hurt so much. It hurt so much. Why did she have to endure these things?
Zoria’s blood seemed to pour out endlessly, heavy streams soaking Zephyr’s clothes. Staggering, he carried her into the car and fastened the seat belt tightly.
He stroked her ice-cold cheek. “Zoria, hold on a little longer. We’re almost at the hospital.”
Zoria was rushed into the emergency room. Zephyr intended to find Dr. Luke from last time, but Dr. Luke had already resigned and gone abroad. According to his colleagues, he had gone to treat his daughter’s illness.
Zephyr grabbed the doctor on duty. “She’s pregnant. You must save the baby.”
The doctor stared at him in confusion. The female who had just been rushed in was clearly a mixed blood Omega, and if she showed signs of hemorrhaging, there was little chance the fetus could be saved.
Zephyr collapsed onto a bench outside the operating room. His eyes felt unbearably heavy as he fixed them on the closed door. The black suit he wore was soaked with blood that had already dried into dark red patches, giving off a sharp metallic stench like rust.
More than an hour later, Zoria was finally wheeled out. Zephyr sprang to his feet and rushed toward her. Her face was deathly pale, utterly devoid of any sign of life.
“How is she?” Zephyr asked. His voice was low and hoarse.
The doctor wiped away his sweat and removed his mask, his expression awkward. “She is… someone close to you, sir?”
This doctor had just been transferred here. It was his first time seeing Zephyr, so he did not know who Zoria was.
“She is my mate,” Zephyr said.
The doctor fell silent for a moment before speaking again. “The baby… could not be saved. The pregnancy has been lost.”
Zephyr lowered his gaze. His lashes trembled faintly. His throat tightened, his heart aching so badly he could barely breathe.
“The fetus was four months along. Her hormones were unstable, and she experienced extreme emotional agitation, which led to the miscarriage. The uterine wall is very thin… from my observation, the patient had a prior abortion, did she not?” the doctor asked, looking at Zephyr.
Zephyr nodded.
The doctor advised him, “To be honest, her physical condition is not suitable for pregnancy. Her body is too weak, and she is prone to habitual miscarriage.”
Habitual miscarriage. Not suitable for pregnancy. How could that be? Zoria had to bear his offspring. How could she possibly be unable to get pregnant?