Genevieve’s POV
When my eyes finally opened again, I almost wished they hadn’t.
Pain wrapped around me from the inside out, dull and relentless, as though my body had been torn apart and stitched back together without care. There was a hollow ache in my chest that felt heavier than the physical agony—a strange emptiness that no medicine could numb.
“Luna Virelli… you’re awake.”
A female doctor stood beside the bed, relief flickering briefly across her face. “We weren’t certain you would regain consciousness so soon.”
My throat felt scraped raw. My limbs were sluggish, foreign, as if they didn’t belong to me. I blinked against the harsh white lights overhead, disoriented and weak. For several seconds, I couldn’t piece together where I was or why my body felt like it had survived a battlefield.
Then memory struck like a blade.
The transfusion. Nikolai’s command. The sharp drop in pressure. The shouting. The darkness swallowing me whole.
My pulse spiked.
I turned my head toward the doctor slowly, dread creeping into every vein.
She was composed, professional—but I saw it in her eyes.
Sympathy.
“My pup…” The words scraped painfully from my throat. “Is my baby… alive?”
She hesitated.
That pause was enough.
My stomach plunged as if I had fallen from a cliff. The doctor drew a careful breath and shook her head.
“I’m deeply sorry,” she said gently. “We did everything within our ability. But the pregnancy could not be preserved.”
For a heartbeat, the world ceased to exist.
Then a sound tore out of me that didn’t feel human.
It rose from somewhere shattered deep inside my chest. My ribs felt as though they were collapsing inward. I couldn’t breathe properly. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t accept what she had said.
I had believed I had no tears left.
I was wrong.
Sobs wracked through me until my entire body trembled. My throat burned. Grief poured through me so violently it felt like it would split me open. I cried for the tiny heartbeat that had existed beneath my palm. For the child I had already imagined cradling. For the miracle I had chosen to protect.
And for the Alpha who had cost me everything.
A bitter part of me wished I had gone through with the termination that morning before hope had taken root. Losing the pup now—after I had chosen it—felt like being carved open while still breathing.
The doctor remained beside me quietly, allowing me the dignity of breaking.
Eventually, my sobs faded into uneven breathing. My hands shook as I wiped my face, though tears continued slipping down regardless.
Kael.
The name cut cleanly through the haze.
“What day is it?” I managed hoarsely.
“It’s Thursday,” she answered softly. “You’ve been unconscious for two days.”
Two days.
My mind calculated automatically. The three days Kael had given me were almost gone.
“I need my phone,” I said quickly, attempting to push myself upright despite the sharp protest of stitches and bruised muscle.
“It’s in the drawer beside you,” she said, moving to assist, but I was already reaching for it.
My fingers trembled as I typed.
—I accept. Meet me at the sanctuary in three hours.—
The reply came almost instantly.
—Finally. I was beginning to think you’d hesitate forever.—
I stared at the message before answering.
—I won’t.—
The doctor studied me carefully. “Is there anything else you require?”
I forced a brittle smile. “Did anyone visit?”
Her expression shifted.
“No,” she admitted gently. “No one has come.”
Of course.
Nikolai hadn’t appeared. Sabrina hadn’t appeared. The pack I had bled for hadn’t even checked whether I was alive.
Strangely, the pain I expected didn’t arrive.
There was only emptiness.
A void where something precious had once lived.
I turned my face toward the wall and lay there until I heard the soft click of the door closing.
After a while, I pushed the blanket aside.
Every movement sent sharp waves of pain through my body. My stitches pulled. My muscles screamed in protest. I ignored all of it.
A nurse entering the room froze when she saw me trying to stand.
“Luna Virelli, you cannot leave your bed. You’ve suffered severe blood loss. You require further monitoring—”
“I’m leaving,” I said evenly.
She blinked in surprise. “You haven’t been cleared for discharge. We still need to complete—”
“I am not requesting permission,” I interrupted calmly, though my voice held no warmth. “Bring whatever documents require my signature.”
She hesitated, clearly torn between hospital procedure and the unspoken warning in my expression.
After a moment, she nodded and stepped out.
When she returned with the paperwork, I signed without reading a single line.
Standing upright felt like stepping through flames. My legs trembled under my own weight. My back ached with each breath. But enduring pain was easier than remaining in that room another minute.
I gathered my belongings and stepped into the corridor.
Halfway down the hall, something slowed my pace.
Through the glass window of a private suite, I saw Nikolai.
He stood beside Sabrina’s bed, posture relaxed, shoulders loose. She was sitting upright, laughing softly at something he had said. Her cheeks were no longer pale. No frantic monitors surrounded her.
They looked… comfortable.
Untouched.
Unaffected by the chaos that had nearly ended my life.
Nikolai leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
And neither of them looked even slightly concerned.
