When I opened my eyes, I found myself back at the age of sixteen.

This time, Damian was still the Lycan Prince, not yet ascended to the throne as the Lycan King.

I had my father summon a healer from the southern pack to examine me.

He shook his head helplessly. "You’ve always been as strong as a wolf. What could possibly be wrong?"

I frowned, retorting stubbornly, "There is. I need the healer to check me thoroughly!"

In my previous life, during my years in the pack, the healer had told me that I’d damaged my wolf’s essence in my youth, making it difficult to carry a pup.

I’d been both frustrated and heartbroken, unable to give Damian a pup.

He had his pups with others, but we had none together. Even though Damian had always comforted me, the regret lingered.

This time, if I could have a pup with him, it would truly feel complete.