Genevieve’s POV
Nikolai sat beside Sabrina’s hospital bed, a porcelain bowl balanced in one hand and a spoon in the other. He blew lightly across the surface of the soup before lifting it with careful precision to her lips. His eyes never left her face, and the tenderness in his expression bordered on reverence.
Once, that sight would have shattered me.
Now, there was nothing.
No jealousy tightening my chest. No anger clawing at my throat. Not even sorrow.
Only a vast, hollow quiet.
I turned silently, intending to leave before either of them noticed my presence. Unfortunately, fate had never favored me.
“Genevieve?”
His voice reached me just before I could disappear down the corridor.
I stopped, my jaw tightening, and slowly turned back.
The softness that had warmed his features moments earlier vanished the instant our eyes met. Something closer to unease replaced it.
“I didn’t realize you were conscious,” he said, rising from the chair. “How are you feeling?”
I didn’t answer.
I only looked at him.
The silence stretched, deliberate and heavy. I didn’t break eye contact.
He did.
“What you did,” he began carefully, lifting his gaze again, “it made a difference. Sabrina is stable. The pup is strong. You… you saved them.”
A faint, humorless sound escaped my throat before I could stop it. It wasn’t loud, but it was sharp enough to make him stiffen.
Sabrina placed her hand protectively over her stomach, her expression soft and luminous. “Nikolai hasn’t left my side for a second,” she said gently, her eyes glinting. “He’s been wonderful.”
I didn’t react.
There was nothing left in me to give them.
I turned again, but Nikolai moved quickly, reaching toward me.
“Wait.”
I paused, not out of care, but out of curiosity.
“I’m arranging a gathering tonight,” he continued, speaking as though the past days hadn’t nearly cost me my life. “To celebrate your recovery… and Sabrina being discharged safely. It’s been tense. I thought it would help morale to bring the pack together. My father will be there. He’s asked about you.”
I remained silent.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Let me drive you back. We’re returning to the estate.”
“I won’t be going there,” I replied evenly.
His brows drew together. “Then where?”
“The sanctuary.”
My tone remained calm.
Kael had assured me that once I gave my answer, the sanctuary would be protected beyond Nikolai’s reach. I intended to ensure every legal safeguard and financial barrier was firmly secured. Nikolai would never hold that place over me again.
“The sanctuary?” he repeated, clearly puzzled. “For what reason?”
“There are matters I need to address.”
Sabrina suddenly brightened. “Oh, that sounds lovely,” she said lightly. “I’ve always meant to visit. It was our father’s passion project, wasn’t it?”
I glanced at her with quiet disbelief.
She had mocked that place countless times. Called it sentimental excess. A waste of pack resources.
Nikolai nodded without hesitation. “Then we’ll all go together.”
I studied him.
This was the same Alpha who had once complained that the sanctuary drained funds better invested elsewhere. The same male who dismissed every renovation proposal I brought to him.
Now, because Sabrina suggested it, he agreed instantly.
A faint scoff slipped from me.
“Very well,” I said coolly. “You’re welcome to come.”
Relief flickered across his face, almost hopeful.
“But before we leave,” I added, reaching into my bag, “I need you to sign something.”
He straightened slightly. “What document?”
I handed him the folded papers I had kept with me since the night he brought Sabrina into our home.
He skimmed the top page. “What is this?”
“My discharge forms,” I replied calmly.
He hesitated.
Nikolai Virelli was meticulous with paperwork. He never signed contracts or agreements without reading every clause, every condition. His caution was legendary.
For a fleeting second, I saw that instinct stir.
Then Sabrina shifted on the bed.
“I’m feeling tired,” she murmured softly. “Can we leave soon?”
Nikolai’s focus snapped back to her. Whatever scrutiny he might have applied vanished.
He signed.
Without reading a single line.
He handed the papers back absentmindedly and immediately turned to assist Sabrina as she rose, adjusting her coat and murmuring reassurances.
I slipped the document into my bag, a faint, controlled smile touching my lips.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I’m free now.”
He didn’t catch the meaning behind my words.
He was too occupied steadying Sabrina, completely unaware that he had just signed away far more than a simple hospital release.
