Kamrynn’s POV
Seventeen hours.
That’s how long it had been since Franklin rushed into my room, breathless, frantic, begging me to stop Lorien.
At first, I hadn’t thought much of it. Calvin had wronged too many people, hurt too many lives, and if Lorien wanted vengeance, I had no reason to interfere. But then I saw him.
Bloodied. Broken. Barely breathing.
The moment I laid eyes on him, something inside me cracked.
I screamed without thinking, my voice cutting through the chaos.
“Lorien, that’s enough! Get away from him now! Please!”
I had never seen Lorien hesitate before. But in that moment, he did.
The rage in his eyes was still there, his hands clenched into fists, his chest rising and falling with rapid, heated breaths. But he stopped. And that was all I needed to rush to Calvin’s side.
He was barely conscious, his body battered beyond recognition. Blood seeped from wounds that hadn’t even begun to heal. I placed a hand on his cheek, my fingers trembling as I whispered his name.
His eyes fluttered open for just a second, hazy and unfocused. He looked at me, and for a moment, I thought I saw something… relief? Happiness?
Then his body went limp.
I had barely registered the chaos that followed-the doctor arriving, the pack members scrambling, Lorien storming off without a word. My mind had been locked on one thing and one thing only.
Calvin.
Now, seventeen hours later, he still hadn’t woken up.
I sat by his bedside, my hands clasped in my lap, watching the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. He looked like a mess-bruises covered his face, arms, everywhere basically and bandages wrapped tightly around his torso and his head, an IV was hooked into his arm.
I wanted to cry just looking at him.
And I didn’t understand why.
Lorien had been justified in his actions.
I should be relieved. I should be grateful. I should be applauding him for finally making Calvin suffer.
And yet… looking at him now, so broken, so still, I felt nothing close to satisfaction.
This wasn’t what I wanted.
The doctor had done everything she could-administered strong painkillers, stabilized his condition-but aside from that, there was nothing left to do but wait. She had told me that his body would either fight to heal, or it wouldn’t.
And for some reason, that terrified me.
So I had offered to stay with him through the night.
The doctor had looked relieved, muttering a quiet, “That’s good,” before she slipped and said something that sent a cold chill down my spine.
“He’s been through worse, you know. Barely survived a horrible stab wound not too long ago. Woke up from a month-long coma, I honestly thought it was a miracle. Now this.”
I had blinked. “What?”
She paled instantly, as if realizing she had said too much. “I-Forget I said anything.”
“No.” I stepped forward, my heart pounding. “Tell me what happened.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t disclose his medical history.”
Her voice was firm, professional. But that didn’t stop the pit in my stomach from growing.
A stab wound. A coma.
When? How?
A thousand questions ran through my mind, but the doctor didn’t offer any more answers.
So I stayed silent, swallowing down my unease, and took my place at Calvin’s bedside.
Seventeen hours had passed since then.
Seventeen hours of staring at his bruised, bandaged form, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest.
Seventeen hours of waiting.
I hadn’t slept. Not even for a second.
I told myself it was because someone had to keep an eye on him, but deep down, I knew the truth.
I was scared.
Scared that if I closed my eyes for even a moment, he would slip away.
The only times I had left his side were when nature forced me to, and when Marlana had brought the twins so I could kiss them goodnight.
Everything else? Every single second? I had spent it here, watching him. Waiting. Hoping.
And for what?
To see if he’d wake up? To convince myself I didn’t care? I honestly didn’t know anymore.
And now, sitting here, exhausted and emotionally drained, I hated that I cared.
I shouldn’t care.
And yet, I did.
I buried my face in my hands, exhaling shakily.
Why was I like this?
I told myself it was out of obligation. He was still the father of my children, after all. I couldn’t just let him die…
I clenched my fists, staring at Calvin’s unconscious form, willing myself to feel nothing.
He deserved this. He had hurt so many people-hurt me. So why did my chest ache like this? Why did I feel like I was suffocating every time I looked at him, battered and weak?
But Aryna-the ever-annoying voice of reason in my head-wasn’t convinced.
“You can lie to yourself all you want,” Aryna murmured in the back of my mind, her voice quiet yet unwavering. “But you can’t fool me. I know you, Kamrynn. And I know that deep down, no matter how much you try to deny it, you still care about him.”
I stiffened. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” she challenged. “If you truly hated him, you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t be watching over him like this, worrying, praying for him to wake up. You would’ve left hours ago, but you didn’t. You stayed.”
I wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but before I could, Calvin stirred.
A soft groan left his lips as his fingers twitched, his eyelids fluttering. My breath caught in my throat as his head shifted slightly on the pillow, his brows furrowing like he was caught between sleep and wakefulness.
Then his tired, bleary eyes finally opened.
He blinked sluggishly, his gaze unfocused, and when he saw me, something flickered across his face-confusion, disbelief.
“Kamrynn…?” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
He sounded so lost, so unsure, like he thought he was hallucinating.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a scoff. “You’re such a dummy,” I muttered, reaching out to press a hand against his chest as he weakly tried to sit up. “Lie back down before you hurt yourself even more.”
“You’re really here…” He blinked again, dazed, but the moment he tried to push himself up, a sharp hiss of pain left him. His entire body tensed, his face twisting in agony as his back wound flared up.
Guilt stabbed through me before I could stop it.
I shouldn’t care that he was in pain, but seeing him like this-so vulnerable, so human-made it impossible not to.
“Just rest, Calvin,” I murmured, shaking off my hesitation. “I’m right here. Watching over you. If you need anything, just tell me.”
For a moment, he only stared at me, his breathing shallow, his expression unreadable.
Then, slowly, he reached for my hand.
His fingers, weak and trembling, wrapped around mine.
“Thank you…” he breathed, his grip feather-light yet steady.
I tensed, my first instinct to pull away-but I didn’t.
Instead, I tried to act indifferent, my voice firm as I muttered, “I’m not doing this for you.”
But Calvin just smiled. A small, barely-there smile, but real.
“My guardian angel…” he murmured.
My heart skipped.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to ignore the warmth spreading through my chest, the way my stomach twisted at the tenderness in his voice.
He was delirious. Drugged. That was the only reason he was saying these things.
“Get some sleep,” I muttered. “You’re clearly still out of it.”
Calvin hummed softly, his eyes already drooping. But before they could fully close, he mumbled something so faint, I almost missed it.
“I love you…”
I froze.
“Don’t leave me… please…”
And then, just like that, he was out again. But this time, he was asleep.
I sat there in stunned silence, staring down at our hands.
Even unconscious, he hadn’t let go.
A breath I didn’t realize I was holding slipped past my lips, and despite everything-despite the war raging inside me, the part of me that screamed to walk away-I found myself smiling.
Just a little.
I hesitated, glancing at his sleeping face, then leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss against his hand.
I whispered. “I’ll stay by your side just a little longer…”