Chapter 7
On the day Alex celebrated his grand Luna Bonding Ceremony, I was lying in the infirmary, fighting for my life.
Twenty days later, I was finally transferred to a general ward. Through the haze of medication and weakness, I caught a glimpse of a familiar figure near the window-the rogue driver who had struck me.
He stood stiffly, nerves coiling in his posture, lips parted but no words came.
Then the door opened.
A tall wolf stepped inside, his broad frame outlined by the sterile light from the hallway. His alpha aura hit the room like a pressure wave. His voice, though calm, cut through the air like ice.
“You hit Fiona and didn’t report it?!”
The driver wiped the sweat beading on his forehead and bowed his head..
“I’m sorry… I didn’t realize she was the one you’ve been searching for…”
I couldn’t make out the face of the man who had just arrived, but I heard it-the voice that called to me, low and trembling, yet filled with something deeper.
“Fiona…”
I wanted to move, to open my eyes, to respond-but the anesthesia still clung to my body like chains. My eyelids weighed a thousand pounds.
Amid the muffled sounds around me, I heard someone give a crisp command:
“Bring in the top werewolf medical team. Money doesn’t matter-just save her.”
The next time I woke, two more weeks had passed.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the bed. I forced my eyes open-and nearly forgot how to
breathe.
A face hovered above mine, handsome and ethereal, with eyes that seemed to hold a thousand storms.
“You’re awake,” he said, his voice low and crystalline, like a mountain spring running through shadowed woods.
I tried to speak, but only a dry rasp came out.
He quickly held a glass of warm water to my lips, his claws barely retracted.
“Don’t rush. You just underwent surgery.”
I summoned all my strength.
“My… my dad?”
His expression darkened.
Without answering, he turned and retrieved a sandalwood box from the cupboard.
“I’m sorry,” his voice broke, the regret in it slicing deeper than any wound. “By the time they found him… he was already gone. I’ve picked a few peaceful resting places. You can choose where he’ll sleep.”
I clutched the urn to my chest as tears fell like rain, soaking into the sheets.
The days that followed were pure agony. Physical therapy felt like tearing my body apart piece by piece.
daisies-my favorite.
One morning, he sat by my bedside, gaze steady.
“Fiona, do you really not remember me?”
His voice dipped lower, almost reverent.
“You were six. You saw me drop my homework into the lake. You jumped in to get it. You nearly drowned.”
And then it all came back.
I stared into those storm-gray eyes and suddenly saw that pale, quiet boy from my childhood.
The transfer student.
The outcast.
The one who was too soft-spoken, too white-skinned, too shy-bullied endlessly by the other pups.
But not by me. I was wild then. Loud. Fearless. Back when my parents were alive and the world hadn’t taught me to kneel.
I had stood in front of him, fists clenched, and declared he’d be safe with me.
He had followed me everywhere after school like a little shadow.
Until one day-he was gone. No goodbye. No word. Just gone.
“Where did you go?” My voice cracked.
“My grandmother fell ill,” he said softly. “My parents rushed me to England that same night. I’ve been looking for you since I returned.”
Two weeks later, I was strong enough to walk.
He personally drove me to my father’s grave.
I dropped to my knees before the tombstone, my entire body trembling.
“Dad… I’m sorry. Everything’s my fault,” I sobbed, the words ripping from my chest.
“If I’d just listened to you… if I hadn’t insisted on mating with him…”
He knelt beside me, wiping my tears gently with his sleeve.
“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispered, “You were never the one to blame.”
Seasons shifted.
And so did I.
With him beside me-my wounds, both seen and unseen, began to heal.
One warm night, he brought me aboard a cruise ship.
The deck was blanketed in rose petals, bathed in moonlight so soft it felt like a dream.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered.
When I opened them again, fireworks exploded across the night sky.
And in the midst of the shimmering display, he knelt before me on one knee, holding out a glistening diamond ring
(T T
+16 Bonus
“Fiona,” his voice trembled as he stared up at me, eyes rimmed with red, “You’ve been my hero since I was six. Let me be yours now. Give me the right to protect you-for the rest of your life.”
I looked into his trembling gaze, felt the memory of every touch, every sacrifice, every quiet act of love.
“Yes.”
My voice shook.
My tears fell.
But my heart-my heart soared.
He gently slipped the ring onto my finger, hands trembling like it was his first shift.
And then-
A furious voice shattered the night.
“Fiona! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
