Chapter 77 - Healing Wounds

Chapter 77 - Healing Wounds
The sound of the door opening made Cassie raise her face.

Hendrick entered, his coat still damps from the light snow beginning to fall outside. He paused when he saw Matt sitting at the table with her — the doctor’s gaze seemed more serious than usual.

Matt was direct, but his voice was calm and thoughtful: “We ran the test, and I have the result, Hendrick.”

The alpha frowned, his eyes moving from one to the other. “And?”

Matt took a deep breath, looking away to Cassie before answering: “The test was negative. She is not pregnant.”

The silence that followed seemed to compress the air in the room. Cassie lowered her eyes, feeling a knot rise in her throat.

For a moment, she didn’t know what to feel. Relief, perhaps. Sadness, too. As if something she didn’t even know she wanted had been snatched away before it even existed.  

“Cassie,” Matt began, in a gentle tone, “it doesn’t mean it can’t happen. It might have been too early.”

She just nodded, unable to speak.

Hendrick approached, stopping behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders, firm and warm. “It’s all right,” he murmured.

It wasn’t, St. John’s mind was churning, thinking about what could have gone wrong. He was a strong wolf, an alpha, he exuded fertility, it was expected that they would succeed on the first try.

“It doesn’t make sense,” his voice echoed in the doctor’s mind through the pack link.

“I know, but let’s not worry yet. She is human; her body might not be adapted to this. And it was only the first time,” he also tried to find some logical explanation.

Matt watched them for a moment, then collected the envelope and adjusted the collar of his coat.

“I’ll leave you alone.” He lightly touched Cassie’s shoulder before leaving, leaving behind the weight of the diagnosis and the subtle smell of herbs from the office.

As soon as the door closed, Hendrick knelt before her, his hands holding hers. “Hey...” he said, low. “Look at me.”

Cassie looked at him, and what she saw in his eyes was not frustration — it was care.

But guilt gnawed at her. “I... I don’t know why I’m sad. I didn’t even want to get pregnant so soon.”

Hendrick shook his head. “It’s normal. You wanted to believe it could happen.”

She bit her lip, taking a deep breath. “And you? How are you feeling?”

He hesitated, his gaze lost for an instant. “Negatives hurt,” he admitted, finally. “But I don’t want to condition our happiness on this.”

Cassie felt her chest tighten. She knew what he wasn’t saying: the memory of his dead wife, of her infertility, of the wait that never ended. She reached out, touching his face.

She didn’t want to see him reliving all that pain, like a bitter joke of fate.

“I know what you lost,” she murmured. “And what you fear losing again.”

Hendrick closed his eyes at the touch, resting his face in her palm. “Cassie...”

She kissed him before he could say anything else.

It was a calm kiss, but full of tenderness, as if asking forgiveness for something that wasn’t her fault. Hendrick pulled her into his arms, the warmth of his body driving away the cold insinuating itself through the windows.

“I love you,” he said, firm. “With or without children, with or without destiny.”

Cassie felt her heart squeeze. And then they let themselves go — the kisses becoming more intense, their hands meeting, her body curving to his.

Hendrick carried her in his arms, his eyes still fixed on hers, and took her to the bedroom.

There, between sheets and whispers, there was no pain or promise. Only presence.

Cassie embraced him with sweetness, driving out all the fear he might carry, the responsibility, and the tensions. She surrounded him with love to heal both their wounds.

The kitchen clock struck noon. Cassie sighed and smiled, tired but peaceful. “You’ll be late for the pack’s lunch.”

“If I’m late, they can wait,” Hendrick replied, chuckling softly, before getting up and helping her get dressed.

A little while later, the sound of voices filled the air.

The aroma of fresh bread and wood smoke filled the air when Cassie went downstairs. Hendrick was already in the kitchen helping to bring the platters, his expression lighter.

Bart was the first to arrive, bringing a basket of fruit; Uriel followed soon after, trailed by Nick.

Cassie noticed something different — no one looked away, no one backed down from her scent.

Perhaps, she thought, Hendrick’s wolf was finally at peace. Without a possessive marking that drove others away.

“We’re having lunch?” Bart asked, already smiling.

“We are.” She laughed. “And some news.”

When everyone sat down at the table, Cassie rested her chin on her hands. “I want to do something special for New Year’s Eve.”

The men exchanged glances, surprised. “Special how?” Mason asked, suspicious.

“A barbecue,” she replied, smiling. “In two days, on New Year’s Eve. Roasted piglet, champagne, white wine... and I thought we could have a movie session.”

Yohan raised his eyebrows, amused. “Movie session?”

“Movies,” Cassie explained. “To watch together. I thought it could be fun. Of course, I need Amos for that, if he has a projector and enough internet...”

Her small brown eyes sparkled at him like a child’s. The blonde took a deep breath and put down his cutlery to answer.

“I... I can work something out. I’ll download everything in advance so we don’t have internet problems. If you want, you can take a look at the catalog later.”

Cassie broke into a wide smile, excited, and clapped her hands. “Yes, please.”

Hendrick smiled lightly to see her distracted with something else; he didn’t want her at all to be dwelling on the test result. He knew that pain well; he knew how cruel it could be.

He still remembered the sadness in his late wife’s eyes with every negative. She wasn’t sterile, but infertile, and they already knew that getting pregnant would be difficult. Her hope faded day after day, and the alpha didn’t want to repeat that.

That afternoon, Cassie went to Amos’s house. She always felt the impact of the difference between the rest of the village and that room full of computers and cables; it was a huge contrast with the forest.

They spent hours sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes, and talking about movies. Cassie was surprised by how much Amos knew about cinema. He spoke with passion, and when he described an old comedy he liked, his eyes shone in a rare way.

“Let’s put that one on too,” she said, writing it on the list. “And I promise to make hot chocolate and popcorn.”

Amos smiled, the corners of his lips turning up in a shy gesture. “That sounds very... human.”

Cassie nodded, her gaze soft. “Yeah, snacks with movies are the best tradition.”

Outside, the sun was beginning to set, painting the horizon in shades of copper. Cassie leaned against the window, watching the rain fall on the houses of the small village.

Perhaps, just perhaps, the new year would bring more than they expected.