Page 108 of Abandoned By My Alpha Husband

We followed the nurse to the room. It was quiet, curtains drawn, only the bedside lamp glowing. Liam lay in the bed, wrapped in bandages, an IV needle in the back of his hand, clear fluid dripping down.

I sat beside the bed and took his hand. It was cold. I wrapped both my hands around it, trying to warm it.

"Liam..." I called softly.

His fingers moved. Then he slowly opened his eyes, those gray eyes staring blankly at the ceiling for a few seconds before focusing.

"Mom..." His voice was weak, like it would scatter in the wind.

My tears fell again.

"I'm here," I said. "Mommy's here."

He looked to the other side, voice even softer. "Anya..."

"She's fine," Lucifer said, carrying the sleeping Anya over and gently setting her in a chair by the bed. "You protected her well."

Liam's mouth curved in a weak smile.

"Good..."

Anya woke then. She rubbed her eyes, saw Liam, and immediately reached for him.

"Brother—"

I steadied her. "Careful, your brother's hurt."

She carefully extended her hand, lightly touching Liam's fingers.

"Liam..." she said softly, tears falling again. "Don't be scared. I'm here with you."

Liam squeezed her hand.

"I'm not scared."

I watched this scene, chest aching and full, like something warm had filled it. Lucifer sat beside me, arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. I leaned against him, closing my eyes. His scent surrounded me—cedar and amber mixed with a bit of disinfectant, but still so familiar, so comforting.

Outside, the sky slowly lightened. Dawn light leaked through the curtain gaps, cutting thin strips of light across the floor.

A family of four.

Finally together.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Lucifer

Liam spent five days in the hospital. On the morning of the sixth day, the healer came for a final check and cleared him for discharge.

"The wound's healing beautifully," the healer said, snapping the chart closed. "Werewolf recovery—never ceases to amaze me. Still, take it easy this week. No rough play."

"I will," Liam said from where he sat on the bed. Color had returned to his face, and though he was still pale, life had come back to his eyes. "Thank you."

The healer smiled, packed up, and left.

Elena folded Liam's clothes, tucking the clean ones into a bag. Anya perched on the chair by the bed, legs swinging, clutching her stuffed bear and humming. "Liam's coming home!" She beamed.

Sunlight poured through the window, catching in Elena's hair and turning those strands gold. The way she bent over the bag, the soft curve of her profile in that light—