13. Flowers and Candies

Mason’s polished shoes echoed through the sterile white halls of Silver Haven Medical Center. Heads turned discreetly as he passed. 

The Alpha Chairman of the Federation was not someone you would simply see on a normal day. He was an untouchable force of nature, a shadow most people only ever heard rumors of. 

But today, the shadow was flesh and bone, walking with cold purpose toward the pediatric wing.

As he rounded the corner, he nearly bumped into Dr. Eleanor Brown, Nina’s pediatrician.

“Alpha Mason,” she greeted quickly, adjusting the tablet clutched in her hands. “I was just on my way to Nina's room.”

“Status?” Mason asked tersely, his voice stern but not unkind.

Dr. Brown nodded, glancing around before speaking. “Physically, she’s clear for discharge. Being a daughter of an alpha put her at an advantage, she healed fast. The paperwork is ready at the nurses’ station. But—” she hesitated, lowering her voice, “emotionally, she’s... not.”

Mason’s eyes darkened slightly.

“She barely talks. Clings to her nanny one moment, then pushes her away the next. Nightmares. Screaming fits. Hypervigilance. I’m not a psychiatrist, Alpha, but... she’s showing classic signs of PTSD.”

Mason’s jaw clenched. “Then refer me to someone who can help.”

Without another word, Dr. Brown slipped a small calling card from her coat pocket and handed it to him. “Dr. Rina Evangard. She’s a pediatric trauma psychologist. Very good. Hard to book, but if you call, she’ll make time for Nina.”

Mason took the card and slipped it into his coat without looking at it. “Thank you.”

Dr. Brown nodded. “Take her home. But don’t wait too long to get her help.”

Mason offered the slightest inclination of his head before heading for the nurses’ station. Within minutes, he had signed the discharge papers in his signature, swift, elegant strokes. 

The staff watched him with the quiet reverence of those who knew monsters feared this man, but none of them had ever seen Mason Larkin look the way he did now.

Haunted and worried...

And then, without a word, he turned and made his way to Nina’s room to bring his daughter home… The one place he prayed, she could feel safe again.

Mason’s boots thudded heavier as he moved down the hallway, but then he stopped.

From afar, his enhanced hearing caught it.

A small, broken cry.

Nina!

His heart clenched. It was faint, but piercing. The unmistakable sound of his daughter’s sobs sliced through the corridor like a knife.

Without a second thought, he moved fast.

His body blurred, a flash of black tailored suit and shadowed fury as he raced past startled nurses and patients, a growl rumbling low in his throat. 

In seconds, he was outside her room, pushing open the door with a force that made it slam against the wall.

Inside was a little chaos.

Nina was curled tightly in her nanny’s arms, her small body trembling as she wailed, her tiny fists tangled in the woman’s shirt. The nanny looked up, startled, her eyes wide and red-rimmed.

“S-She... she woke up like this again,” she stammered. “Nightmare. She keeps saying the car was going to hit her again. She wouldn’t let me leave, not even to get a nurse—”

But Mason was no longer listening.

He strode forward and knelt beside them, his arms outstretched.

“Nina.”

The little girl blinked through her tears at the familiar voice. Her cries faltered for a heartbeat—then she lunged into his chest, burying herself in his embrace.

He caught her, holding her close, pressing a kiss to her hair as he pulled her into his protective cocoon. His fingers ran gently down her back while the growl of his wolf faded into a low, comforting hum.

“Daddy’s here,” he whispered, voice low and deep. “No one’s going to hurt you. Ever again.”

Her sobs slowly quieted into hiccups as he rocked her in his arms. Mason glanced at the nanny and gave a silent nod of thanks.

The mask of the ruthless Alpha, the unshakable Chairman, was gone.

What remained was just a father, holding the shattered pieces of his child, knowing he would burn the world to keep her safe.

Minutes passed like hours, but finally, finally—her trembling ceased.

The nanny gently stepped forward with a small glass of water. “Here, sweetheart. Just a sip, it’ll help.”

Mason shifted slightly so Nina could take the cup in her tiny hands. Her eyes were puffy, lashes damp, but her grip was steady as she drank, swallowing the last of her fear along with the cool water.

“Good girl,” Mason said softly, brushing a stray curl away from her cheek. “You were so brave.”

Nina blinked up at him, still sniffling but clearly calmer now, her small fingers twisting the hem of his sleeve.

“I just saw the doctor,” Mason continued gently. “You’re cleared to go home, princess. The doctor said you’ve healed enough to leave.”

Her eyes brightened just a little at that.

“And,” he added with a small smile, “since you’ve been so strong—and because you’re Daddy’s good girl—I want to give you a gift.”

Nina’s brows lifted curiously.

“You can ask me for anything. Anything you want. And I’ll give it to you.”

She tilted her head, lips pursing in deep thought. Her tiny nose scrunched, and for a moment, Mason marveled at how adorable she looked, like she hadn’t just been sobbing moments ago.

Then, her face lit up.

“I want…” she began softly, voice barely above a whisper. “I want the auntie.”

Mason blinked. “The auntie?”

Nina nodded earnestly, her eyes wide and full of sincerity. “The auntie who pulled me out of the car. She hugged me really tightly and smelled nice. Like flowers and candies. Her hug was warm. Safe.” 

She placed her hand over her small chest. “Like here. She protected me. I want her.”

For a moment, Mason stared at her, struck silent. The scene from the crash replayed in his mind. The one caught on the highway's CCTV. 

Aria’s frantic movements, her shielding embrace, and the blood on her sleeve as she carried Nina out of the wreckage without thinking twice. Despite the chaos, she had held Nina like her own.

The words of the doctor echoed in his thoughts… ‘If the woman didn’t pull her out on time, we would’ve needed to amputate her arm. But since she did, we can just fix her broken bone with a cast.’

Mason's jaw tightened, emotions knotting beneath his ribs. The one person who had dared to protect his daughter like she belonged to her.

He looked down at Nina again—at her pleading, innocent eyes.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “I’ll bring her to you.”

But in his mind, the resolve was louder, deeper.

He needed to do something now. 

It’s not part of his plan, but in his gut, he just knows that he must do it soon, if not right now.