Marked By the Pureblood Alpha (Deanna and Luis) novel Chapter 239

**Chapter 239: What the Moon Hides**

In the quiet confines of Erik’s office, located on the hospital’s top floor, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Erik reclined in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight. One leg was casually crossed over the other, and he absentmindedly spun his phone between his fingers, lost in thought. His dark eyes, shadowed and inscrutable, were locked onto the panoramic view outside the expansive glass window, where the cityscape sprawled beneath the fading light of dusk.

Suddenly, a firm knock broke the silence, and his assistant stepped in, her expression a mix of urgency and professionalism. “Mr. Harding,” she announced, her tone brisk, “Ms. Wiley’s surgery is about to commence. She will be taken into the operating room in ten minutes.”

At her words, Erik’s entire demeanor shifted. He felt a chill run down his spine as he tightened his grip on the phone, his focus sharpening. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him, and his eyes narrowed, reflecting a storm of emotions.

Fine. So be it.

If everything went awry, he could always start fresh with another hospital. But the thought of allowing Luis’s potential pureblood heir to vanish without a trace was simply unacceptable. He couldn’t bear the thought of that life being erased.

With a determined flick of his thumb, he unlocked his phone, scrolled through his contacts, and pressed call on Luis’s number, the tension in his chest coiling tighter with each passing second.

Meanwhile, in the sterile confines of the operating room, Deanna was being wheeled in on a gurney. As she lay on the stark white table, her gaze was drawn upward to the harsh, blinding surgical lights that flickered above her. The brightness felt cold and clinical, sending a shiver down her spine, as if the very light were stripping away her warmth.

Two doctors stood at her side, their faces masked and their hands gloved. They exchanged a quick glance, a silent communication passing between them, laden with the weight of their shared responsibility.

“Ms. Wiley,” one of the doctors began, his voice steady yet firm, “are you absolutely certain you want to proceed with terminating the pregnancy?”

Deanna’s heart raced, a mix of fear and determination coursing through her. “Once we start the anesthesia,” the doctor continued, “there’s no turning back. Are you fully aware of that?”

“This procedure is common practice, but for an Omega—especially one carrying a strong bloodline—it can lead to lasting complications. There are risks of infection, or even permanent infertility. You must think this through very carefully.”

Deanna’s brow furrowed in irritation. “Do all doctors feel the need to lecture their patients these days?” she shot back, her voice edged with defiance.

The doctors exchanged another look, their expressions caught between concern and duty. They didn’t want to reprimand her; they were merely following orders.

When the Omega on the table showed no visible reaction, they felt a sense of helplessness wash over them. Erik’s instructions had been followed meticulously, but the gravity of the situation loomed large.

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