The Alpha's Unwanted Bride novel Chapter 492

Chapter 492: SURGERY II

Marie climbed back onto the bed, her expression unreadable, jaw tight as she knelt beside Jasmine’s still, broken body. Blood soaked the sheets, the scent thick and metallic, mingling with sweat and the sharp sting of herbal salves that hadn’t even been used yet.

She exhaled, settling both hands on Jasmine’s womb.

"Keep the towels ready," she said without looking back. Her voice was low, grim. "This won’t be clean."

Ned stood frozen for a moment, but Loren, flinched him back to life.

"You have to be firm Ned." Loren reprimanded.

He grabbed one of the steaming bowls and began soaking the fresh cloths brought by the maids, his fingers trembling.

Marie’s lips moved, and with each word, the air around her shimmered.

The old tongue. Ancient magic.

Her eyes flickered silver as her hands glowed faintly blue.

Then—Jasmine’s body arched.

Not violently, but like something inside her stirred and jerked in protest.

A dull pulse of light rippled beneath Marie’s hands, as if the magic itself was searching, trying to locate the root of what needed to be expelled.

Blood poured again.

Thicker this time. Heavier.

Jasmine didn’t scream. She couldn’t. She was too far gone. Her lips were slightly parted, her breath shallow and ragged.

But she wasn’t conscious.

Marie gritted her teeth, sweat now lining her brow.

"It’s not coming out whole," she muttered. "It’s already dead."

Nanny closed her eyes and wept heartbroken.

"The body’s trying to reject it in pieces." Marie explained

Loren stepped closer, his face pale, eyes stricken.

"We’ll stop the bleeding after," he whispered. "Goddess help us..."

The first piece emerged.

Small. Red.

A curled limb—no longer fully formed. It slid out slowly, coated in dark, clotted blood.

Ned turned away, eyes wide with horror, but his hands kept working.

He handed Marie clean towels without needing to be asked.

Marie didn’t flinch.

She took the towel and gently wrapped the first piece, placing it into a cloth-lined basin beside the bed.

Another pulse.

More blood.

Another piece.

A fragment of a spine. A tiny, half-formed ribcage. The umbilical cord, barely attached.

The pieces were too small and were mainly mixed with blood and extremely tiny bone fragments.

Nanny Nia gasped softly behind them, her breath catching in her throat.

She had stood frozen near the foot of the bed until now, eyes locked on Jasmine’s face.

But the sight, what was slipping from Jasmine’s womb, was too much.

She turned away, pressing a hand to the wall to steady herself as her knees weakened.

"She was going to name her," she whispered, barely audible. "She always wanted a girl..."

Her voice cracked. "I should have.... This is all my fault. I should have stayed with her."

A single sob escaped, and then another, though she fought them back with all the strength she had left.

Marie kept going.

Her hands were steady, her magic constant.

She moved as though on instinct, whispering words older than time, her face blank save for the lines of exhaustion and anger.

The basin filled slowly, horror upon horror laid in careful, reverent folds of linen. The air grew colder, denser.

Then came the last piece.

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