Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack (Evelyn and Damon) novel Chapter 186

"Your family," I asked quietly, settling beside her.

"My daughter and grandchildren," she confirmed, something protective evident in her voice as she watched them through the open doorway. "And my own father, though he's struggled considerably with the physical demands of our journey."

I understood, watching her expression, exactly how much responsibility she'd apparently carried throughout this entire dangerous ordeal—not simply leading strangers to safety, but personally shepherding her own vulnerable family members through weeks of genuine, life-threatening danger.

"They're going to be alright," I said, watching the healers work carefully with her daughter and grandchildren. "The healers here are genuinely skilled. Whatever they need to actually recover fully, we'll ensure they receive it."

Something grateful crossed Miriam's tired expression. "I don't know how to actually thank you properly, Alpha-elect. Extending this kind of consideration to strangers, particularly given everything I understand your own family's recently survived."

"I understand desperate need for safety better than most, currently," I said honestly. "My family's spent these past several months navigating genuine, violent threat ourselves. I'm not willing to simply turn away others facing similar circumstances, not when we genuinely have capacity to actually help."

She nodded, something deeply moved evident in her weathered expression, and I found myself understanding exactly why extending this sanctuary felt genuinely important, beyond simple diplomatic obligation or standard pack protocol—a genuine opportunity to actually offer the kind of protection and safety our own family had so desperately needed throughout everything we'd endured.

The evaluation process continued through the afternoon, and I spent considerable time simply present, checking on various families throughout the group, understanding the genuine value of demonstrating our pack's serious, compassionate consideration rather than simply treating this as bureaucratic obligation.

I found my father had made his way to the medical wing as well, apparently unable to resist involvement despite his continued recovery, settled carefully in a chair near the entrance, watching the evaluation process with obvious, careful attention.

"You shouldn't be exerting yourself," I said, settling beside him with gentle concern.

"I'm simply sitting," he said, something warm evident in his tired expression despite my concern. "Watching this, Damon—watching you extend exactly this kind of genuine compassion to people who genuinely need it. I'm proud of you."

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