CHAPTER 30

CATRIONA

The antiseptic scent of the hospital clung to everything—walls, sheets, even the air I tried to breathe. I sat stiffly beside the bed, my hand wrapped around Abriel’s tiny one. His skin was warm but too still, his chest rising and falling with the aid of machines that hummed and beeped in cruel rhythm. I fucking hate hospitals, I muttered before breathing in and out to calm my trembling ass down.

My baby.

Tubes threaded from his arm, his forehead wrapped in gauze where they’d placed a line. He looked so small, too small, against the white sheets.

I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to the back of his hand. My tears soaked into his skin, but he didn’t stir. He didn’t move.

“Abriel,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Mommy’s here. You’re safe. Please, baby, wake up.”

Sandra sat quietly in the corner, her hands knotted in her lap, her own face pale and drawn. She hadn’t left me since we arrived, her presence steady even when I felt like collapsing.

The doctor’s words still echoed in my ears: Near drowning. He’s stable, but unconscious. His body is fighting, and time will tell.

Time. That was all they could give me. Time and hope.

I brushed the curls from his forehead, kissing his temple gently. “You’re stronger than this. You always have been. Don’t let him win, Abriel. Don’t let that man take you from me.”

The room was silent except for the machines. But in the silence, my heart pounded with one thought.

Where are you, Jayden? Why are you not here yet?

The minutes bled together into hours, though the clock on the wall ticked steadily, cruelly reminding me that time was moving forward without giving me any answers.

I sat with Abriel’s small hand in mine, tracing the tiny lines of his knuckles with my thumb. His hand always fit perfectly in mine, soft and warm, always tugging, always clutching his stuffed wolf or reaching up for me. But now it lay limp, still as stone, while machines did the work his little body couldn’t.

My chest ached. Each breath I took felt borrowed.

I told myself to focus on him, to pour all of me into willing him awake—but my mind betrayed me. Over and over, it circled back to Jayden.

Where was he?

Why hadn’t he walked through the door yet?

I tried to be rational. Maybe traffic had slowed him down. Maybe he’d stopped to grab something, anything we might need here at the hospital. But that wasn’t Jayden. He would have come straight to me, straight to Abriel. He would have been the first shadow to cross the threshold, his voice grounding me, his arms steadying me when my world threatened to crack apart.

Instead, there was only silence. His absence gnawed at me, sharp and relentless.

Did something happen to him?

The thought struck like a blade. Jayden was strong, impossible to bring down easily—but he wasn’t untouchable. Not with the old man circling us like a vulture. Not with the shadow of his power reaching into every corner of our lives.

I squeezed Abriel’s hand tighter, lowering my head until my hair curtained around us both. “Your daddy will come,” I whispered against his skin. “He’ll come. He always does. He just… he just has to.”

Sandra stirred in her seat, shifting uncomfortably but saying nothing. She looked as worn as I felt, her eyes rimmed red, but she stayed—solid, dependable. She didn’t ask the questions burning in my chest, didn’t say the words that might break me further.

Still, the silence between us spoke louder than words.

And the longer I sat here, the more the fear dug in.

What if Jayden wasn’t just late?

What if he wasn’t coming at all?

I clenched my teeth, forcing the thought down, burying it deep. I couldn’t let myself believe it. Not here, not now, not while Abriel lay fighting for his life.

So I sat straighter, brushing the damp curls from my son’s forehead again, and whispered against his ear. “Hold on for me, baby. Hold on for your daddy. We’ll be together soon. I promise.”

But my promises felt thin against the hollow space in my chest where Jayden should have been.

Irritation simmered under my skin, boiling hotter with each passing second. Jayden should have been here by now. I’d told him what happened, told him where to find us, and he’d sworn he was on his way. If he hadn’t said that himself, I would’ve assumed he and Gabriel were still trapped wherever they went to find the witch.

But he had. He told me they’d made it back.

So where was he?

I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the sterile floor. “Sandra,” I whispered, forcing my voice steady for her sake. “Stay with him. Don’t leave his side. I’m going to try reaching Jayden again.”

Sandra’s worried eyes lifted to mine, but she nodded firmly. “Go. I’ve got him.”

I leaned down, kissed Abriel’s hand, and slipped quietly out of the room, pulling the door shut behind me.

My phone was already in my hand, Jayden’s name glowing on the screen. My thumb hovered, ready to call.

Then it hit me.

That scent. Familiar, sharp, unmistakable.

My heart jolted. I lifted my eyes.

Gabriel was walking down the hall toward me, his stride easy, his face unreadable. My pulse quickened, but not for him. For who I didn’t see. My gaze shot behind him, searching for the broad shoulders, the steady presence of Jayden.

But Gabriel was alone.

A cold weight sank in my stomach. My lips parted, words spilling out in a broken whisper. “Where’s Jayden?”

Gabriel opened his mouth, but I saw it—the twitch of his lips, the tiny tell I remembered too well from our past. The one that always betrayed him right before he lied.

“Don’t,” I snapped, my voice sharp, raw. “Don’t even think about lying to me. I know when you’re about to lie.”

His eyes lingered on me for a long moment, unreadable, before the mask slipped back into place.

“He…” Gabriel hesitated, then straightened. “He asked me to come here in his place. He didn’t tell me the reason. But it didn’t look serious.”

My chest tightened, my breath catching. “What happened?”

Gabriel’s tone was flat, but I caught the edge of discomfort under it. “He just told me to come. Nothing more.”

The hallway swayed around me. My hand tightened on the phone like it was the only thing keeping me upright. If it wasn’t serious, Jayden would be here. Nothing could keep him from Abriel unless…

Unless something had gone very, very wrong.

Gabriel’s eyes stayed on me, steady but sharp. His voice was quieter than I expected when he finally asked, “What happened to your son?”

The question hollowed me out. My knees weakened, and I sank onto one of the stiff hospital chairs outside Abriel’s room. I pulled in a shaking breath, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

“As you know… what’s been happening with him isn’t normal.” My throat closed for a second, but I pushed through. “He slipped from our suite, ran like something was pulling him. The staff found him under the hotel pool water, deep—unconscious. They pulled him out, and brought him here. But Gabriel…” My voice cracked, my hands tightening around each other. “When I saw him on that screen before he fell… it wasn’t my son’s face anymore. It was his. That old man’s face, smiling at me through my boy.”

For a long moment, Gabriel didn’t move. Then he sat, though deliberately keeping distance between us, his hands steepled, his expression unreadable. “Things are really serious.”

“Yeah,” I whispered, the word heavy. My eyes flicked back to the closed door behind me where Abriel lay unconscious. “That’s why we need this witch’s help.”

I turned toward him, shifting fully to face him. “ What happened where you two went? Did you find her?”

His jaw clenched, then loosened, as though weighing whether to soften the truth. At last, his eyes locked on mine. “We found her. Or rather—she found us. She made it very clear she has no interest in wolves and told us to leave before she forced us to. And then… she forced us to.”

The cold truth of it settled over me like ice water. Selena was real, she was powerful—and she didn’t want us anywhere near her.

The sudden creak of the door made me jolt upright, my heart slamming into my ribs.

Sandra stood in the doorway, her eyes wide, her voice trembling with urgency. “Catriona—Abriel is up!”

The world tilted. My chair screeched back as I rushed past her, my legs barely carrying me fast enough into the room.

And there he was.

My baby. Awake. His lashes fluttering against his cheeks, his small chest rising on his own, his brown eyes glossy but open.

“Mummy,” he whispered, his voice fragile, broken.

I crumpled into the chair at his side, tears spilling freely. My hand wrapped around his, squeezing as I bent over him. “I’m here, baby. I’m right here. Oh, thank God—you’re awake.” My lips pressed against his curls, again and again, my heart both breaking and healing all at once.

“Call the doctor,” I said, my voice trembling but firm, turning to Sandra without looking away from him.

Sandra nodded sharply and hurried out.

Then, Abriel’s lips parted again. “Daddy.”

My throat closed. I smoothed his hair back. “Daddy’s on his way, baby. He’ll be here soon.”

But Abriel didn’t look at me. His small arms stretched wide, his eyes fixed past me—toward the door.

I turned slowly, dread curling in my stomach.

Gabriel stood there, tall and uncertain in the doorway.

Abriel pushed up, too quickly for his frail body, calling louder, “Daddy!”

I froze, helpless, watching my son reach for a man who wasn’t his father. Hopelessness gripped me, crushing.

The doctor rushed in then, his nurses spilling behind him, instruments in hand. He moved to inspect Abriel, but my boy’s eyes never left Gabriel. His body squirmed toward him, making the doctor’s work near impossible.

Finally, the doctor straightened, his brow furrowed as he glanced at Gabriel. “Are you going to stand there while your son wants you to hold him?”

The words cut like glass.

Both Gabriel and I spoke at once, voices tangled, strained.

“He’s not his dad.”

“He’s not my son.”

Our voices were quiet but fierce.

The doctor blinked at us, disbelief plain on his face, his gaze darting between us and the child who was still reaching, still crying, “Daddy!”

His mouth tightened. “Well, whoever he is—come hold him and make my job a little easier. He wants you. Unless you’d prefer to send him into another shock.”

The air grew heavy, silence falling like a blade between us all.

And Gabriel stood there, caught between refusal and inevitability.

Gabriel hesitated in the doorway, his body taut with reluctance. His eyes flicked to me, a silent question.

Every muscle in me screamed no. My heart ached, sharp and bitter. But the truth was undeniable—this wasn’t just Abriel reaching for Gabriel. It was that old man, pulling the strings, weaving the confusion deeper.

Still, my son’s trembling hands were stretched wide, his lips calling “Daddy” in a voice too broken for me to deny.

So I nodded. Just once. Permission, though it tasted like ash.

Gabriel moved forward slowly, his broad frame shadowing the bed. When he reached for Abriel, my son wrapped his small arms tight around Gabriel’s neck, clinging as though he’d drown without him. Against Gabriel’s chest, Abriel looked impossibly small, fragile—yet utterly at peace.

The doctor cleared his throat, setting his bag on the counter. “Shift him a little, sir. I need to check his vitals properly.”

Reluctantly, Gabriel angled Abriel so the doctor could work, though the boy refused to loosen his hold completely. His little hand still fisted in Gabriel’s shirt as the stethoscope pressed to his chest.

Minutes stretched, the doctor murmuring instructions and Gabriel adjusting as best he could. Finally, the doctor straightened, scribbling notes. “He’s fine. His body is stable. We’ll keep him overnight for observation, but I see no lasting damage. You can relax now.”

I exhaled shakily, relief flooding me so hard it hurt. “Thank you,” I whispered.

The doctor gave me a small nod before leaving with his staff.

As the door shut, I reached out instinctively. “Come here, baby. Let Mommy hold you.”

But Abriel only buried his face deeper into Gabriel’s shoulder, his small voice muffled but firm. “No. Stay with Daddy.”

Hopelessness carved into me as I watched him cling tighter to the man who wasn’t his father—yet who he believed was.

And for the first time, I couldn’t tell if I should cry from rage… or from heartbreak.