Chapter 174

Kayla

I couldn’t believe it. After two years of sitting by his bedside, holding his lifeless hand, speaking to him without any response…

My father was finally awake.

A sob escaped my throat as I threw myself forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and practically crushing him against me. I buried my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent that even years of hospital antiseptic couldn’t completely erase.

“Careful,” the doctor cautioned behind me. “He’s still very weak.”

I loosened my grip slightly but couldn’t bring myself to let go. Not yet. Not when I’d waited so long for this moment.

My father’s arms—thinner and weaker than I remembered—slowly came up to encircle me. His hands trembled as they stroked my hair.

“My Kayla,” he murmured, his voice hoarse and weak but his breath warm against my ear. “My beautiful Kayla…”

I pulled back just enough to see his face, tears streaming freely down my cheeks. His eyes were sunken, his face gaunt, but he was awake.

“I knew you’d come back,” I choked out. “I knew it.”

Just then, I felt a presence behind me and remembered we weren’t alone. Nicholas had moved closer, standing just a few feet away. I turned, reaching my hand out to him, wanting to share this moment with my mate despite all of the anger and distance. He moved closer, taking my hand.

“Hello, Mr. Sterling,” he said, bowing his head politely.

My father’s eyes flickered over to Nicholas, and something in his expression changed. His face seemed to harden slightly, the warmth in his eyes dimming. He didn’t say anything, but the look he gave Nicholas filled me with an uneasy feeling that settled in the pit of my stomach.

Before I could dwell on it, the doctor stepped forward. “I need to run some tests now that your father is conscious. If you could give us some space?”

I reluctantly pulled away from my father, squeezing his hand once more. “I’ll be right outside,” I promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”

My father nodded, his gaze still fixed on Nicholas as we stepped out of the room.

In the hallway, I collapsed against Nicholas, my legs suddenly too weak to hold me up. He caught me easily, his strong arms keeping me upright.

“He’s awake,” I whispered. “Nicholas, he’s really awake.”

“I guess Liam wasn’t lying after all.”

The mention of Liam’s name sent a jolt through me. I bit my lip, looking up at Nicholas’s face. “Thank you for getting the antidote. I know you’re still angry with me, but—”

“Not now,” he interrupted, his tone softer than it had been in days, but still distant. “This moment is about your father. We can talk about the rest later.”

I swallowed my protest and nodded, grateful at least for the temporary truce.

The next few hours passed far more slowly than I would have liked. I stayed by my father’s side as much as they would allow, holding his hand, reassuring him when he seemed confused or disoriented. Nicholas remained too, a silent presence in the corner of the room or out in the hallway, always watchful but maintaining his distance from both me and my father.

By evening, the results were starting to come in. The doctor gathered us in my father’s room.

“It appears the substance has effectively neutralized whatever was in your father’s system,” she explained. “His neural activity is returning to normal patterns, and his organ function is improving rapidly. It’s quite remarkable, honestly. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“So he’s going to be okay?” I asked, hardly daring to hope.

“There’s still a long road to recovery,” the doctor said. “Two years in a coma has severely weakened his muscles. He’ll need extensive physical therapy, proper nutrition, and time to regain his strength, as his wolf is weak, too. But yes, I believe he will make a full recovery eventually.”

Relief washed over me, and I sank into the chair beside my father’s bed, clutching his hand tightly.

“Thank you,” I whispered to the doctor, unable to find words adequate enough to express my gratitude.

Once the doctor left, my father squeezed my hand to get my attention. “How long?” he asked, his voice slightly stronger now. “How long was I…?”

“Two years,” I answered softly. “A little over two years, actually.”

He closed his eyes briefly, absorbing this information. When he opened them again, there was a sharpness there that hadn’t been present before.

“I remember… Vanessa,” he said, and the very mention of her name made my stomach roil with nausea. “She came to the house. Brought tea.” His brow furrowed. “Everything went black after I drank it.”

The confirmation sent a chill down my spine. So Henry had been right. Vanessa had poisoned my father.

“Why?” I asked softly.

My father shook his head slightly. “Later. When we’re alone.” He glanced pointedly at Nicholas, who stiffened beside me.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. I felt caught between the two of them, torn between my loyalty to my mate and my love for my father.

Over the following days, with extensive therapy, tests, and various medications, my father and his wolf both grew stronger. He exceeded all of our expectations, slowly morphing back into the Alpha I’d once known so well. He wasn’t perfect, of course, but he was recovering quickly.

Finally, five days after my father woke up, the doctor cleared him for discharge.

Later that evening, after we’d gotten settled at home—Goddess, I couldn’t believe that my father was finally home for the first time in two years—I found Nicholas packing his bag.

“You’re leaving?” I asked, stopping in my childhood bedroom doorway. The sound of my father’s laughter, mingling with Ava and Henry’s voices, drifted up from downstairs. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

Nicholas paused, but didn’t look up from his task. “There are matters I need to attend to in Nightshade, plus with William gone, there’s a chairman position open on the guild. I’m going to run for the position and give a speech tomorrow.”

I bit my lip. “I understand. But that’s exciting. I hope you get the position.”

He nodded once, then finally turned to face me, his amber eyes meeting mine. “Will you be coming back with me, or…?”

The question hung in the air between us. I twisted my hands together, then shook my head. “I can’t,” I said softly. “Not yet. My father needs me. He’s still so weak. I’m sorry I won’t be there for your speech.”

Something flickered across Nicholas’s face, but it was gone too quickly for me to identify.

“How long?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “A few weeks, maybe. Until he’s stronger.”

Nicholas nodded once. “I see.”

He finished packing in silence, zipping his bag with a finality that made my heart ache. We’d been like this over the past days—distant, cold, dutiful. I wanted to move toward him, to find my way back to the easy intimacy we’d shared before, but I didn’t know how.

“Nicholas,” I started, my voice catching. “About what happened—”

“Not now,” he cut me off, albeit gently. “Your father needs you, and the pack needs me. We’ll discuss everything when you return to Nightshade.”

I swallowed my protest, nodding instead. Perhaps the distance would do us good, give us both time to cool off and reflect.

Nicholas approached me slowly, lifting his hand to cup my cheek. I leaned into his touch, starved for the connection.

“Take care of yourself,” he murmured. “And our baby.”

Before I could respond, he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was tender but distant, lacking the fire and passion that usually characterized Nicholas’s touch. It felt like a goodbye rather than a promise of reunion.

When he pulled away, I had to resist the urge to pull him back, to demand more—more emotion, more reassurance, more of the Nicholas I had fallen in love with.

Instead, I watched silently as he gathered his bag and left the room. The sound of the front door closing behind him echoed through the house, leaving me alone with a crushing sense of loss.

I allowed myself a moment of weakness, pressing my palms against my eyes to stem the tears that threatened to fall. Then I straightened my spine, took a deep breath, and went to help my father settle in.

By the time dinner passed and Ava and Henry had gone to bed, my father was settled in his wheelchair by the large window in the living room, gazing out at the dark forest at the edge of the estate. He always loved this spot, particularly at night, when the moon illuminated the land and the house was quiet.

I hesitated in the doorway, just quietly watching him… drinking in this unexpected moment, the sort of moment I thought he might never have again. But then he spoke without even looking up.

“Kayla. Come here, please.”

Something in his tone gave me pause. It was the type of voice he used when he had something serious to say. Taking a deep breath, I made my way over to him and perched on the edge of the armchair beside him.

“What is it, Dad? Do you need something?”

When my father looked at me, his gaze was intense. Far more intense than I expected. Before I could speak, he reached out and took my hands in his and gripped them tightly.

“There are things I need to tell you,” he said softly, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “Things I should have told you long ago.”

I swallowed hard, a knot of dread forming in my stomach. “What is it?”

His grip tightened on my hands. “Kayla, he can’t be trusted. You must listen to me. Get away from Nicholas Reynolds, and never look back.”