“But I-”
“If you take one more step into this room, Isabella, I will have you escorted off pack territory and banned from ever returning.” My voice had come out as a growl, barely human. “My mate is fighting for her life and you don’t even have the decency to look at her. Get. Out.”
She’d fled, her heels clicking rapidly down the hallway. My mother had found me an hour later, confused.
“Knox, why would you treat Isabella that way? She’s been your friend since childhood. She was just trying to be supportive.”
I hadn’t had it in me to explain. Hadn’t had the energy to tell her about all the times Isabella had invaded my space, touched me without permission, looked at Lina with barely concealed hatred. My mother wouldn’t understand. She saw what Isabella wanted her to see: a sweet, concerned family friend.
So I’d just shaken my head and told her I didn’t want to see Isabella again. Period.
My mother hadn’t pushed. Maybe she’d seen the look in my eyes and realized this wasn’t up for debate.
That had been weeks ago. Almost a month, actually.
A month. Fuck.
My way of coping with Lina’s absence was to stay by her side. I hadn’t left this room for more than ten minutes since she was brought in. Bathroom breaks. Quick showers in the attached bathroom. That was it. Everything else could wait.
One month since my daughter was born. One month since Lina had been put into a coma that was only supposed to last a few days. A few days turned into a week. A week turned into two. Two weeks turned into four.
And here I was. Waiting. Hoping. Fucking dying inside.
I wasn’t sleeping. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Lina’s heart monitor flatlining. Heard that long, continuous beep that still haunted my nightmares. So I stayed awake, watching her breathe, counting the rise and fall of her chest, making sure she was still there.
I wasn’t eating. Food tasted like ash. Hunt brought me meals three times a day and I forced down a few bites to keep him from worrying, but that was it. My body was running on coffee and desperation.
I was barely living. Just existing. Going through the motions of being a person while my soul stayed tethered to the woman in that bed.
The only time I got a fucking grip on myself was when my kids came in.
They visited every day, brought by Sarah or my parents. And every time that door opened and I heard their little voices calling for me, I forced myself to be better. To be the father they needed. I hated that they saw me disheveled and depressed, so I put on a brave face. Smiled. Pulled them into my lap and told them Mama was just sleeping, that she’d wake up soon, that everything was going to be okay.
I didn’t know if I believed it anymore. But I’d be damned if I let my children see me fall apart.
Sarah and my parents had become a rock for our family. I’d be forever grateful to them. They’d taken over everything, the twins, the household, the million little details that I couldn’t handle right now. My mother, who I’d never seen cook in her life, had apparently learned how to make the twins’ favorite meals. My father read them bedtime stories. Sarah held everything together with the quiet strength she’d always had.
And the baby. Our daughter, still unnamed because I couldn’t do it without Lina, was officially out of the NICU. She’d spent two weeks in there, growing stronger every day, fighting with the same stubbornness her mother had. Now she was home, and Sarah had taken over her care.
I helped when I could. Dr. Hartley had recommended pumping milk from Lina to prevent engorgement and mastitis, and to make sure she’d be able to breastfeed when she woke up. So I learned how to do it. Sat by my unconscious mate and helped extract milk from her body, storing it for our daughter, maintaining Lina’s supply for a future I had to believe would come.
Dr. Hartley said it was fine since Lina wasn’t on any medication. Her body was healthy. Healed. There was no medical reason for her to still be unconscious.
That was what scared me most. The doctors couldn’t explain it. Lina should have woken up weeks ago. All her vitals were stable. Her brain activity was normal. Everything pointed to a full recovery.
But she wouldn’t open her eyes.
“Earth to Knox.”
Hunt’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, pulling me back to the present. I blinked and found him standing in front of me, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.
“What?” I grunted.
“You zoned out for a good two minutes there. Just wanted to check on you.” He pulled up a chair and sat down across from me. “And to give you the weekly debrief.”
Right. I was still the Alpha. The pack still needed me, even if I couldn’t bring myself to leave this room. Noah had been handling most of it, with Hunt acting as the go-between, keeping me informed on everything happening outside these four walls.
“Go ahead,” I said.
