Chapter 49
Violet's POV:
I turned and froze.
"You're not supposed to be back until next week," I said. "The northern conference—"
"Wrapped up early." Evan stepped out, looking me over with professional concern. "What are you doing here?"
"My mother had a heart episode yesterday. Bond shock. She's stable now, but they're keeping her for observation."
His expression sharpened immediately. "Mate bond trauma triggering cardiac arrhythmia is dangerous, Violet. She needs complete rest. Any further shock could cause permanent damage to her heart."
I nodded, my gaze drifting down the corridor toward where Mason Morrison's room was located.
A cold thought struck me: How much longer before Evan falls for Celeste? By all accounts, he should be developing feelings. And with Mason's surgery scheduled, Evan will be in constant contact with the Morrison family.
I felt a twist of shame. Evan had never done anything to deserve being used as a pawn in my revenge fantasies. He was standing here worried about my mother while I mentally maneuvered him like a chess piece.
I'm a terrible person, I acknowledged. Plotting to throw a good man into emotional chaos just to create problems for Daemon.
"Violet?" Evan pulled me back. "You look exhausted. Have you slept at all?"
"Some. A few hours in the chair by her bed." I managed a smile. "Shadow's fine. I fed him this morning."
Evan glanced at his watch. "I need to check on my patients." He hesitated. "Take care of yourself, Violet. Your mother needs you steady."
---
The hospital's small convenience store occupied a corner of the main lobby.
I grabbed a Greek yogurt parfait, some crackers, and orange juice, then headed back toward the cardiac wing. As I passed Mason's room again, the door stood slightly ajar. Voices drifted out.
"—truly appreciate everything you've done, Doctor Thorne." That was Ruby's voice.
I continued to my mother's room. She was still sleeping. The monitors beeped steadily. I set the breakfast items on the rolling table.
My mother opened her eyes, tracking me with exhausted awareness.
"Violet? What time is it?"
"Almost eight." I moved to her bedside. "How are you feeling?"
She looked out the window before settling back on my face. "Like my entire world shifted off its axis. Like everything I thought I knew might be a lie."
I took her hand carefully. "Evan says you need complete rest. No emotional stress. The bond shock put too much strain on your heart."
A soft knock interrupted us. A nurse announced that my father had arrived and was asking to see her. My mother's hand tightened on mine. She pulled on the pack bond for strength before nodding permission.
"Eleanor." Marcus crossed to her in three strides. "Thank the Moon Goddess you're alright. When they called me yesterday—" His voice broke. He dropped to his knees beside the bed. "I'm so sorry for bringing this nightmare into our lives."
My father raised both palms to his own face and struck himself. Hard. Twice. The sound echoed obscenely in the quiet room. Two livid red marks bloomed across his cheeks.
"I swear to you before the Moon Goddess and our daughter as witness," he said hoarsely, "that I had no willing part in what happened with that woman. I swear on my Alpha blood, on our pack bond—I am innocent."
The formal oath hung in the air. My mother's face worked through complicated emotions before settling into tentative peace.
"I believe you," she said softly, touching his reddened cheek. "Thirty years of marriage doesn't end over one suspicious night. We'll get through this together. We'll find out who's trying to destroy our family."
I slipped out quietly, leaving them to their whispered reassurances.
---
The coffee shop on Fifth was trendy and uncomfortable. Sienna had claimed a corner table and was nursing her espresso when I arrived.
Sienna's eyes sharpened on my face. "What happened, Vi? You look like you haven't slept in days."
So I told her. The broad strokes. The anonymous photographs. The woman claiming pregnancy.
"That manipulative bitch," Sienna breathed. "She's actually pregnant?"
"That's what I need to find out. I need to know if she's really pregnant," I said finally.
"I can help with that," Sienna promised, pulling out her phone. "Give me two days."
"Let's grab some lunch and head back. I should check on my mom."
---
Sienna insisted on buying sandwiches from the deli next to the hospital. We rode the elevator up together, her carrying the paper bag of food, me balancing two coffees.
We were passing Mason Morrison's room when Sienna suddenly stopped dead. Her gaze fixed on a small figure standing outside my mom's ward.
"Well, well," Sienna said loudly, her voice cutting through the quiet corridor like a knife. "If it isn't the homewrecker herself."
Celeste's smile faltered. Two spots of color appeared high on her cheekbones. She nodded once—quick, jerky—then turned and practically fled back into Mason's room.
What was she watching?
"Come on," I said quietly, touching Sienna's elbow. "Let's go somewhere we can talk."
We walked to the far end of the corridor, near the emergency stairwell where the hallway dead-ended.
---
"Jesus Christ." Sienna's eyes went wide as dinner plates. "You've known for months and you didn't—" She cut herself off, processing. "Wait. You knew and you're just... waiting?"
"I'm waiting for Daemon to grow a spine and ask for the rejection ceremony himself," I said flatly.
Sienna stared at me. Then, slowly, a grin spread across her face—fierce and proud. "Holy shit, Vi. You're actually done being a doormat."
"Took me long enough."
"No, seriously." She grabbed my shoulders, eyes shining. "This is the Violet I remember from university. The one who didn't take shit from anyone. I thought marriage had beaten it out of you."
"Sienna, listen to me. You cannot tell my mother about this. Not yet. Not while she's recovering from bond shock."
"I know. No comments about Celeste. No references to affairs. Nothing."
---
When we pushed open the door to my mother's room, I stopped short.
Daemon stood beside Eleanor's bed, holding a plate of cut fruit.
Eleanor smiled up at him from her pillows, her face wan but grateful. "You're too kind, Daemon. You didn't have to come all this way."
Daemon turned, his blood-red eyes landing on me. Something flickered in their depths—complex, unreadable. He crossed the room in three long strides, stopping close enough that I could smell his scent.
"If you need anything," he said quietly, his voice pitched for my ears only, "call me."
I turned away, deliberately breaking eye contact. Moved to the window and started unpacking the sandwiches Sienna had brought, focusing on the mundane task of arranging food.
I heard him say goodbye to my mother. Heard his footsteps cross the room. The door opened and closed.
He was gone.
I sat beside my mother's bed. She was watching me with tired eyes that saw too much.
"He's a good man," she said softly. "Daemon. Checking in like this."
I managed a smile. "He cares about you, Mom."
My mother patted the bed. "Sienna, dear. Thank you for taking care of my daughter."
"Of course, Mrs. Goldcrest." Sienna's voice was warm, genuine. "Vi's like a sister to me."
---
We settled into easy conversation—Sienna entertaining my mother with stories from her disastrous blind date, making Eleanor laugh for the first time in days. I watched my mother's face relax, saw some of the tension ease from her shoulders.
"Mom," I said during a lull, "I want to hire a professional nurse to stay with you. Someone who can monitor your heart, make sure you're getting proper rest."
Eleanor's hand fluttered weakly. "Violet, no. That's too expensive. I'll be fine—"
"Mom." I took her hand gently. "Doctor Thorne specifically said you need absolute rest. No stress, no excitement. A nurse can make sure of that."
"Your daughter's right, Mrs. Goldcrest," Sienna chimed in. "You need someone who knows what they're doing. Someone who can call the doctor if anything changes."
Eleanor looked between us, then sighed. "You're ganging up on me."
"Because we love you," I said simply.
Her eyes grew misty. "Alright. If it makes you feel better."
Sienna leaned forward conspiratorially. "And Mrs. Goldcrest, don't you worry. We're going to figure out who's trying to frame Mr. Goldcrest. We'll find that evil woman and—" She caught herself just in time, glancing at me. "We'll make sure justice is served."
She'd almost said it. Almost called Kayla something far more colorful.
Sienna stood, stretching. "I should head out. Let you two have some mother-daughter time." She kissed Eleanor's cheek, then mine. "Call me if you need anything, Vi. And I mean anything."
After she left, the room fell quiet. My mother and I talked softly—about nothing important, about everything important. Hospital food. The snow outside.
Within minutes, exhaustion claimed her. Her eyes drifted shut mid-sentence, her breathing evening out into sleep.
I watched her for a long moment. The stress of the past few days had carved new lines around her eyes. But there was peace in her face now—the peace of having chosen to trust, of having her mate fight for her belief.
She must have barely slept these past two nights, I thought. Lying awake, tormented by doubt and fear. But today, my father had come. They'd talked. Reconciled. Made the choice to face this together.
Now she could finally rest.
I stood and moved to the window, needing air. The room felt suddenly stifling. I pushed the window open a crack, letting in the cold bite of winter.
And that's when I saw them.
---
Below, in the hospital's small garden, two figures stood in the snow. Even from three floors up, I recognized them instantly.
Daemon's tall frame was unmistakable—broad shoulders, dark hair, the confident stance of an Alpha who owned every space he occupied. He stood close to a smaller figure, head bent to listen.
Celeste looked up at him, her honey-blonde hair catching the late afternoon light. Her hands moved as she spoke, animated, expressive. The distance between them was intimate. Familiar.
I stood frozen at the window, one hand gripping the frame.
He was happy with her.
I checked my phone. 2:47 PM. Daemon had left my mother's room at 1:30. Over an hour ago.
He'd spent less than fifteen minutes with my dying mother. But he'd waited here—at this hospital—for over an hour. Waiting for Celeste.
If Daemon is so certain he loves her, why won't he just end our bond? Why does he keep dragging this out?
Why does he still touch me? Still take me to bed like I mean something when we both know I don't?
Below, Daemon must have sensed something. His head suddenly lifted.
His blood-red eyes found my window with unerring accuracy.