To protect what's mine (Amalie) novel Chapter 175

**Guard 175**

**Chapter 175: Markus**

“How are you feeling today?” Uncle Will asks, his warm smile lighting up the clinical examination room as he steps inside. His gaze flits between the tablet in his hands and the three of us gathered in the room, creating a sense of familiarity that almost softens the starkness of the sterile environment.

Ama shifts uncomfortably on the examination table, her brow arching in playful disbelief. “You ask that as if you didn’t see me just yesterday,” she quips, her fingers nervously toying with the edge of the paper covering the table.

Even if we weren’t as close as we are, I can feel the waves of her anxiety washing over us like a thick fog. The tension in the air is almost tangible, making it hard to breathe, as if the room itself is holding its breath.

Uncle Will chuckles lightly, the sound bouncing off the sterile walls, a comforting echo in the otherwise clinical atmosphere. “Standard question,” he replies, still focused on the tablet, his fingers tapping away as he gathers the necessary information.

“I’ve been okay,” Ama responds, her voice steadier now, though the flicker of unease still dances in her eyes, betraying her true feelings.

“Ah, it seems you’ve finally navigated past the worst of the morning sickness,” he observes, glancing up at her with a fond smile that softens his usually serious demeanor. Setting his tablet aside, he begins checking Ama’s vitals, his movements smooth and practiced. “Now, what lies ahead is the delightful world of cravings.”

“Thank goodness for that,” she exhales, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. Yet, the mention of cravings makes her grimace slightly, a hint of worry creeping back into her expression, as if the thought of what might come next is almost as daunting as the sickness itself.

“Just a few more ups and downs to navigate,” Uncle Will reassures her, his smile unwavering as he jots down the data he’s gathered. He shifts onto a stool, wheeling himself closer to her. “We need to keep a comprehensive record in case anything unexpected occurs. Plus, it’s essential to have standard vitals on file. Our goal from this point on is to create a thorough written account of your pregnancy for future reference.”

Cal, ever the curious one, interjects with a sharp tone, “Are you going to document her being a white wolf?”

Uncle Will’s expression turns serious as he responds, “No. Charts fall under HIPAA regulations, which means no one should have access to that information through official channels. However, that doesn’t eliminate the risk of hackers or others potentially stealing confidential data.”

Ama furrows her brow, concern etched on her face. “But will information still be documented?” she asks, her voice laced with apprehension as she seeks clarity on a matter that weighs heavily on her mind.

“Once the immediate dangers have passed, I suspect Mike would be thrilled to sit down with you and document everything,” Uncle Will chuckles, a glimmer of mischief lighting up his eyes. “This way, we can gather more information about white wolves. But that’s a discussion for another day. Today, our focus is to establish a schedule for your appointments and address any concerns you might have.”

We all nod in agreement, the weight of the conversation settling over us like a comforting blanket, wrapping us in understanding and shared worries.

With a renewed smile, Uncle Will dives into the details, outlining the various appointments and milestones ahead. Goddess, my mind feels like it’s about to burst from the sheer volume of information being thrown my way. I can’t fathom how the others manage to retain all of this knowledge without feeling overwhelmed.

He hands Ama a calendar, and I watch as she flips through the pages, her eyes scanning the meticulously filled entries. It’s clear that Uncle Will has invested considerable thought into this for her sake; appointments are already scheduled, along with milestones she should aim to reach over the coming months. There are even follow-up appointments marked for after our pup arrives. He’s outlined specific goals for her, a detailed roadmap for this journey ahead.

Ama passes the calendar to me, and I thumb through it, stifling a laugh at some of the notes. “Ama talks with therapist about her feelings,” one reads, and another states, “Ama will take a day for herself, leaving mates and her pups in our care.” But my absolute favorite is the one that says, “Ama and the boys will have a date night; we spoil the pups.”

As the appointment reaches its conclusion, Uncle Will assures us that during our next visit, we will finally get to see our pup.

**Rose Barlowe**
**In charge of important things**

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