Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack (Evelyn and Damon) novel Chapter 125

Chapter 125

Evelyn pov

I watched Damon pace the small waiting area outside his father’s room, back and forth, back and forth. his hands occasionally dragging through his hair in obvious, barely restrained distress.

He hadn’t slept, not really, not since the frantic call had pulled him from bed hours earlier. Dark circles had settled beneath his eyes, and something in the tight, controlled way he held himself told me exactly how close he actually was to losing whatever composure he’d been forcing himself to maintain since

we’d arrived.

Willow stirred slightly against my shoulder, and I adjusted her gently, watching Damon continue his restless movement, understanding the particular, specific fear driving it-not just concern for his father’s physical recovery, but genuine, visceral terror at the possibility of actually losing him now, after everything, after finally rebuilding something real between them.

“Damon.” I kept my voice soft, not wanting to startle him from whatever spiral of worry currently consumed his attention. “Sit down. You’re going to wear yourself out.”

“I can’t,” he said, though he did pause his pacing, running both hands over his face in obvious exhaustion. “Every time I stop moving, I keep thinking about how close he actually came to dying tonight. How this happened because I left him with insufficient protection, because I was so focused on protecting you and Willow that I didn’t properly account for how vulnerable he still was.”

“You can’t be everywhere simultaneously,” I said gently, though I understood the futility of trying to fully talk him out of guilt that clearly ran this deep. “Nobody could have anticipated she’d actually attempt something this violent, this directly.”

He sank into the chair beside me finally, exhaustion visibly overwhelming his restless energy, and I reached over to take his hand, feeling it tremble slightly in mine.

“I keep thinking about what the surgeon said,” he continued quietly. “About his heart sustaining additional damage, about continued stress genuinely risking his long-term survival now, more than it did even after the first two episodes.” He shook his head, something raw and frightened in his voice. “I can’t lose him, Evelyn. Not now, not after everything we’ve finally started rebuilding.”

I sat with that for a moment, watching him, understanding the depth of fear driving his continued distress, before an idea began forming, tentative at first, gradually solidifying into something I found myself actually voicing before fully considering the practical implications.

“What if we brought him home with us,” I said slowly. “Once he’s stable enough to actually move, I mean. Somewhere we could monitor him directly, ourselves, rather than trusting the medical wing’s security to properly protect him.”

Damon looked up at me, something startled crossing his exhausted features. “You’d want that? After everything, after his history with Genevieve, after all the complicated tension that still exists between the two of you?”

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“He needs protection just as much as I do right now,” I said, surprising myself somewhat with how genuine the conviction actually felt as I articulated it. “Maybe more, given how severely compromised his heart apparently is now. If we’re already implementing heightened security around our own quarters, extending that same protection to include him doesn’t seem like an unreasonable extension.”

“Are you sure,” Damon asked carefully, clearly wanting to fully understand my genuine motivation rather than simply accepting the offer without proper consideration. “This isn’t just guilt talking, or trying to solve my obvious distress by offering something you don’t actually want?”

I considered the question seriously before answering, understanding it deserved genuine reflection rather than a quick, reassuring response. “I think it’s both, honestly. I do want to help ease your fear, genuinely. But underneath that, I also think it makes practical sense. We already have heightened security in place. Bringing him into that same protected space means one less location Genevieve might target, one less vulnerability we need to separately manage and monitor.”

“And personally,” Damon asked. “How do you actually feel about having him that close, that present in our daily life, given everything complicated in your own history with him?”

I thought about that carefully, about everything that had shifted these past several weeks-the doorstep apology, his genuine fight alongside Damon against the rogues, his tearful confession about finally understanding what he’d lost with his own wife, his obvious, unguarded joy holding Willow.

“I think he’s genuinely trying,” I said finally. “I think the man who nearly died tonight is meaningfully different from the man who sent enforcers to my hospital room. I’m not saying I fully trust him, not completely, not yet. But I think extending this kind of protection isn’t really about full trust. It’s about recognizing that whatever complicated history exists, he’s still family now, and family protects each other when genuine danger threatens.”

Something soft and grateful crossed Damon’s exhausted expression, and he leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss against my temple. “Thank you. I don’t think I fully realized how much I needed to hear that, needed some concrete way to actually feel like I was doing something proactive rather than just reactively managing crisis after crisis.”

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