Damien's POV:
It had been exactly two weeks and four days since I rushed into the hospital, cradling her broken body in my arms. I haven't left her side since. With every passing day, I felt her slipping further away from me, like sand through my fingers. I begged her to wake up, threatened the doctors, even prayed to the Moon Goddess, but she still didn't open her eyes.
I had to hand over the pack's reins to my Gamma, Martin, with Lewis's help. They could keep things running for a while, at least until she woke up. I vowed to never leave her side until she did, and that was a vow I intended to keep. But Lewis was still hiding from me. I heard from Martin that he was doing a lot to care for the pack, but that didn't matter to me. Martin became the bridge between us, the only reason Lewis was still breathing. He advocated for him, explained why Lewis did what he did—how he tortured my mate, thinking he was doing the right thing.
Apparently, my mate carried the scent of Leah—the wolf who had brought my pack to its knees. Her name had become a curse, one that no one dared to utter. As a good Beta, Lewis kept my mate alive and tortured her for answers. It was a logical decision, one I would have made myself if it had been anyone else. That's why I haven't killed him—yet. But the knowledge that the girl he came so close to killing was my mate gnawed at me.
He tried to tell me through the link what he discovered, but I had shut everyone out, blocking all links as I focused on the contract. When he came to see me, I pounced on him, and then shut myself off again, drowning in grief for a mate I believed was dead.
The blame weighed heavily on me. I had been reckless, cutting off communication when I should have known better. If I hadn't been so absorbed in my own anger, I would have known she wasn't dead, just rotting away in my dungeon. I also found out that Lewis wasn't the one who inflicted the silver on her—she had already been caught with the infected arm. In every way, Lewis had saved her by not allowing my warriors to tear her apart on sight. But still, I couldn't face him, and he couldn't face me, knowing the truth.
The doctors did everything they could to save her and her baby, but only managed to save her. It was a miracle she survived at all, given the traces of wolfsbane in her blood. The wolfsbane caused the death of her unborn pup. The injury in her arm was from a silver bullet coated with wolfsbane, which is why it didn't heal after she removed it.
When I found out, I was in shock. First, the fact that she survived wolfsbane for so long—it was a couple of days old injury, something no wolf should have been able to survive. And then, the revelation that she was pregnant. My mate—who looked no older than eighteen or nineteen—was carrying another man's child. Why hadn't she waited for me, her true mate?
The thought of telling her she lost her baby was unbearable. How could I be the one to shatter her heart? Midnight and I were consumed by anger at her betrayal, at the fact that she had carried another's child. But despite that, our love and devotion to her kept us by her side. We needed her to wake up. No matter what had happened, she was ours, and we would face the pain together.
Leslie's POV:
The excruciating pain confirmed my worst fear: I was alive. Disappointment washed over me, a bitter realization that death hadn't done its job. As the clouds of pain began to lift, becoming slightly more bearable, I felt it—the tingling sensation of my mate's hand holding mine. Elsie recognized it immediately, whispering the word "mate" with a trembling voice full of fear.
In that moment, I would have gladly died a hundred times over rather than wake up to see Jaden, my supposed mate, again. But something felt different. The bond, the touch—it was strange, not at all like what I had felt when Jaden held me. His touch had been a gentle tickle, but this... this was like electricity dancing across my skin. Maybe it was the pain making everything feel so off, so distorted. But then the memories of my last conscious moments came flooding back, and panic surged through me. If death wouldn't take me, I had to get out of this hellhole of a pack. I couldn't endure any more torture.
I forced the pain and darkness aside, opening my eyes with a jolt. And there he was—the last face I saw before I supposedly died. A handsome face with the most mesmerizing blue eyes. Wait... blue? But he had golden eyes before. Why were they blue now? His face was a storm of emotions, so many at once that it left me bewildered. But one emotion stood out—relief. Then urgency, as he called out, summoning what seemed like a small army.
Within seconds, a crowd swarmed the room, all talking at once. "How are you feeling?" "Where does it hurt?" "Can you move your hand?" The questions came at me like bullets. Who the hell were these people, and why were they so desperate to ease my pain? Amidst the whirlwind of thoughts, Elsie was mulling over something that hadn't yet hit me.
And then, as my eyes locked onto those blue ones again, Elsie spoke up in my mind. "He's our mate," she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
No... it couldn't be. Right? I still had a mate—a treacherous one. I didn't need another. One was already more than I could handle. Two? That was just cruel, a twisted joke from the Moon Goddess herself.
Before I could wrap my head around the impossibility of it all, one of the doctors—because they had to be doctors, dressed in their white lab coats—spoke up. "We're really sorry... we couldn't save her. Please, don't let him kill us. I have a mate and son waiting for me. We tried everything, but nothing..." Her voice trailed off as a low, menacing growl filled the room, reverberating through my bones. The air thickened with a surge of Alpha power, and every doctor instinctively bared their necks in submission to the blue-eyed man.
No, not blue anymore. Golden. His eyes had shifted, and I realized it was his wolf. His wolf's eyes were as golden as Elsie's. And then, as if to confirm my dread, Elsie spoke again, louder this time, forcing the word "mate" from my own mouth.
"Leave," he commanded, and just as swiftly as they had appeared, the doctors scurried away, the oppressive weight of his Alpha power receding with them. He was an Alpha, just like Jaden supposedly was. My luck... it felt like some twisted experiment by fate, throwing me from one nightmare to another.
Fear surged through me as he began to advance, each step sending shockwaves of terror through my veins. Memories of Jaden, the ones I had desperately tried to bury, came crashing back, flooding my mind with anguish. "No," I managed to whisper, my voice trembling with terror as he drew closer, his presence suffocating me.
I couldn't let this happen again. Panic fueled my movements as I ripped the IV from my hand, ignoring the sting, and bolted from the bed. My legs were like jelly, weakened by whatever concoction the doctors had given me, and my arm still throbbed with pain, though it was slightly better. But I didn't care. I needed to get away. I crawled to the furthest corner of the room, my heart hammering in my chest as I tried to distance myself from him, to make myself as small as possible.
It was only then that he seemed to realize what was happening, that I was terrified of him. Pain flashed across his face, a look so raw and wounded that it momentarily halted my frantic escape. He stared at me for what felt like an eternity, his eyes reflecting a deep sorrow, as if my fear had cut him to the core. His golden eyes, once so powerful and commanding, now seemed lost, filled with a grief that mirrored my own.
Finally, after what felt like hours, he turned and left without uttering a word. The door closed behind him, and I could breathe again. My heart, still pounding in my chest, gradually slowed as the tension in the room dissipated. I tried to stand, my body trembling with exhaustion and fear, when a beautiful woman in her mid-forties entered the room. Her eyes were warm, full of compassion, and her presence immediately put me at ease.
"Oh, dearie, why are you out of bed? You should be resting," she exclaimed, her voice soft and soothing, reminding me so much of my mother that a tear escaped before I could stop it.
"Oh, you poor thing," she murmured, noticing the tear. "You must have suffered so much. But don't worry anymore. I'm here for you. Come, let me help you back to bed."
She guided me back, tucking me in with such care that it almost broke my heart. Her kindness was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the horrors I had endured. I was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that I couldn't fight the sleep that began to claim me. As I drifted off, the woman's soothing words were the last thing I heard.
"Everything is fine now. Rest, my dear. I'll keep you safe."