Chapter 196 Seven and a Half Months
She pulled back the first layer of blankets from Ginny, placing a withered, sensitive hand on the woman’s distended stomach. She closed her eyes, her lips moving in a silent, ancestral chant as she felt for the tiny, flickering heartbeat within.
"The root is stubborn," Veda whispered over the roar of the vents. "It's trying to burrow deeper into the womb to hide from the heat. Miller! I need those sensors calibrated to the infants' pulses. If the babies' heart rates spike too high, we have to vent the room for ten seconds, no matter how much the root screams."
Jax stood by his wife's head, his hand hovering over her sweat-beaded brow. The room was becoming a blur of steam and rising heat. On the monitors, the dark, thorny molecular spikes of the Winter's Breath began to vibrate violently, losing their grip on the women's nervous systems.
The transition was jarring. Inside the vault, the air had become a physical weight, thick and shimmering with a heat so intense it felt like standing on the edge of a volcanic vent. Jax’s wolf was clawing at his insides, his predatory instincts screaming at the unnatural temperature.
He stared at Veda in a state of pure, bewildered shock. The old woman was scooting around the cots with an eerie, graceful ease. While Jax’s tactical shirt was glued to his back and sweat was literally pouring off the tip of his nose in a steady stream, Veda didn't have a single bead of moisture on her brow. Her skin remained as dry as ancient parchment, and her breathing was deep and rhythmic. She was actually humming—a low, melodic tune that sounded like the wind through mountain pines—as she adjusted the thermal sensors on Ginny’s swollen stomach.
Jax couldn’t take it another second. His vision was starting to tunnel from the sheer intensity of the "surface of the sun" heat they were pumping into the room.
He stumbled backward, hitting the manual release and stepping out into the cool, filtered air of the hallway. The relief was instantaneous, a sharp shock to his system that made his skin prickle with goosebumps. He leaned against the stone wall, gasping for air, watching the shimmering heat waves distort the view through the heavy glass observation window.
"How is she doing that?" Jax panted, wiping the sweat from his eyes. "She’s not even sweating, Miller. It’s gotta be a hundred and twenty degrees in there and she’s acting like it’s a spring afternoon."
Miller didn't look up, his eyes glued to the vitals. "Some of the old ones... they don't just know the herbs, Jax. They know how to regulate. She’s probably pulling the heat into her own core or just letting it pass through. Whatever she’s doing, it’s the only reason those babies are still alive."
Jax watched through the monitors as Veda leaned over Leela, her withered hand glowing with a faint, internal warmth as she pressed it against the Luna’s forehead.
"The Winter’s Breath is breaking," Miller whispered, pointing to the screen. "Look at the molecular chain. It’s shattering. But Jax... the vapor. It has to go somewhere."
Inside the room, the oily purple frost on the women's skin began to liquefy, then rapidly evaporate into a thick, violet mist that swirled around the ceiling, looking for an exit. Veda didn't flinch. She just kept humming, her small frame a defiant anchor in the center of the furnace.
Jax pressed his hands flat against a thick, reinforced glass of an observation window, the surface radiating a dull, terrifying heat even from this side. His wolf paced frantically beneath his skin, desperate to break through the barrier and protect its mate, but his rational mind knew that stepping back into that furnace would only get in Veda’s way.
Inside the shimmering, 120-degree vault, the air was a distorted soup of heat waves. Veda, however, moved with an eerie, unbothered grace. She wasn't sweating. She wasn't panting. She was still humming that low, ancient tune, the sound vibrating faintly through the intercom speakers as she pushed her withered hands firmly across Ginny’s swollen stomach.
Jax watched, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. Veda moved away from Ginny, her face unreadable as she placed her hands on Leela’s abdomen, lingering for only a few seconds before her brow furrowed. Immediately, she turned back to Ginny.
"What is she doing, Miller?" Jax demanded, his voice cracking as he wiped a fresh wave of sweat from his own face.
Miller was staring at the fetal monitors, his face pale in the glow of the screens. "She’s checking the physical response, Jax. The sensors only give us the electrical pulse, but she’s feeling for the fluid, the movement... the struggle."
Through the monitor,Jax watched as Veda leaned down over Ginny. Ignoring the blistering, stifling air that was turning the purple frost on the blankets into steam, the old woman pressed her ear directly against the stretched, flushed skin of Ginny’s belly. She stayed there for what felt like an eternity, her eyes closed, listening to the secrets of the womb.
Suddenly, Veda stood up straight. Her sharp, clouded eyes locked directly into the camera.
"How far along is she, Jax?" Veda yelled, her raspy voice cutting sharply through the deafening roar of the industrial heaters.
Jax’s stomach dropped into his boots. "Like seven and a half months!" he shouted back toward the intercom mic, his knuckles turning white against the console. "Why? What’s wrong?"
Veda’s expression hardened into a mask of pure, grim necessity. "We might have to take your baby, Jax!"
The words hit him like a physical blow, stealing the air from his lungs.
"It’s got a strong heartbeat, but it’s not happy!" Veda continued, pointing a knobby finger at Ginny's abdomen. "The Winter’s Breath is a parasite, Beta. The heat is driving it out of her blood, but it’s trying to find a cold sanctuary to survive. The womb is the last place it can hide. Your pup is fighting it, but the heat and the root are pushing them both to the absolute limit!"
Jax slammed his hands against the wall, panic finally shattering his stoic Beta exterior. "Woah, let’s think about this first, Veda! Seven and a half months? We aren't ready! We don't have the equipment set up for a preemie!"
Veda stepped closer to the camera, the heat waves distorting her ancient features, making her look like a spirit of the mountain itself. She didn't yell this time. Her voice came through the intercom, low, deadly serious, and utterly uncompromising.
"Do you want your child and your mate to live, Jax?"