480 Premature Labor
Selma Payneâs POV:
I couldnât bear to continue because tears of despair were already gathering in Careyâs eyes.
âSo, you mean that this child is very likely to... To kill me?â
I didnât know what to say as Carey gradually cried.
From a motherâs point of view, I didnât want to kill a little life like this.
However, from a womanâs point of view, I was also confused and angry. Did mothers deserve to sacrifice for their children? Why did fate impose more suffering on a person like Carey, who was forced to become a âmotherâ?
If she kept this child, she would have to live in fear of death every day until the day of delivery. The next âpriceâ might even make her unable to wait until the day of delivery.
If she chose to let this child go, this would haunt her for the rest of her life. Perhaps she could never get rid of the guilt, even if the child was forced on her, even if the child could have killed her.
Carey sobbed. I stiffly tried to comfort her, but it was to no avail. I knew she didnât need comfort now. Tears were Careyâs criticism of her enemy and the pressure she had accumulated to vent.
After crying for a while, she stopped crying. She showed unprecedented coldness as she stared at the void listlessly and sobbed. The intertwined tears cut her face into several parts under the dim sunset, which sent a shiver down peopleâs spines.
â... Will I die for sure?â After a long while, I heard her mutter.
âNo, not necessarily. Itâs just a possibility.â
Silence lingered between us again.
The sky turned dark. The servant brought the light over and then silently returned to the darkness.
âIf the child is born, can you control him?â Carey asked hoarsely.
âI promise Iâll do my best,â I said firmly.
âAlright then.â Carey suddenly laughed. Her laugh was desolate and sarcastic. âI still choose to keep this child, even if he might kill me.â
âYou donât have to force yourself...â
âIâm not forcing myself, Your Highness. I know what Iâm doing,â she said firmly. âItâs not a hormone or anything else. On the contrary, I hate this child so much that I canât wait to turn him into a pool of blood.
âEver since I could remember when I was young, my life seemed out of my control. Poverty, loneliness, ill-intentioned relatives, and a cold society. In my childhood, I had no control over my life. I could only muddleheadedly go on under the arrangements of others. If they wanted me to drop out, I would drop out. If they wanted me to work, I would work. I was forced to give up on my dreams and end my unhappy childhood prematurely because I had no choice.
âAfter that, I could finally escape the person who controlled me. I thought the Lycan pack would be as wonderful as I had imagined that I could start over here. However, I fell into someone elseâs trap and became a vessel, an experimental subject. This time, I canât even control my own body. I became someone elseâs possession, and no one asked me if I wanted to.
âNow, I think Iâve finally escaped and can live the rich life Iâve dreamed of. But fate played with me again â Iâm actually going to die? Because of this weak, chaotic, rotten meat? Ha!â
Suddenly, she picked up the book and the cup on the table and threw them on the grass. The servants were about to step forward, but I silently stopped them.
Carey started crying again. She screamed and ran around like a headless chicken, pulling her hair. Her swollen body was on the verge of collapsing. I feared she would hurt herself, so I quickly, half-forcefully, and half-placatingly carried her back to the soft outdoor sofa.
âI just... I just want to make my own choice! I donât want to be held hostage by anything anymore. I donât want anything to decide my future! If my future will be decided by something else, then Iâd rather die!â
Carey suddenly clutched her stomach and groaned. The sobbing and pain made it hard for her to breathe. She clutched her chest and struggled, and the veins on her forehead bulged.
âSomeone, call the doctor! Hurry up!â
The medical team on standby in the Sunflower House immediately came forward to examine Carey. Not long after, Craig rushed over, but the news the medical experts brought back caught me by surprise.
âWhat did you just say?â I asked in disbelief, âIs Carey in labor? But sheâs only seven months in, far from her due date!â
Craig frowned and said, âThatâs true. Itâs considered a premature birth, and her condition is very dangerous. Your Highness, you have to be prepared.â
âPrepared for what?â
âTo kill two people.â
Medical equipment of all sizes turned Careyâs bedroom into a cold operating room. I couldnât see what was happening inside, but Careyâs weak wails made my heart palpitate.
How could this happen...
I didnât know how I moved, but when I returned to my senses, I was already sitting in the living room. The medical team and security guards were on high alert. Occasionally, a nurse would rush in and shout the names of all kinds of medicine.
Careyâs voice was getting weaker and weaker.
I stared at the tightly shut door, my hands trembling uncontrollably. I couldnât help but pray silently.