Chapter 30
Violet
Iwoke up blind.
Okay—maybe not actually blind, but everything was too blurry and too bright for me to make anything out. My head felt heavy, my mouth was dry, and an annoying beep kept going off somewhere to my left.
And if that didn’t scream hospital, the sharp, sterile smell of antiseptic did.
My nose scrunched. I tried to sit up and pat around for my glasses and immediately realized I couldn’t move.
I was surrounded by weight. Heavy, warm weight.
I blinked uselessly at the ceiling light and turned my head a fraction. Skye’s face slid into view. He’d somehow wedged himself into the hospital bed with me, one leg tangled with mine, one arm slung possessively over my waist like I might roll away.
On my other side, something large and solid pinned the blanket down.
Benji.
His scent—chai, warm and sweet—was too strong for it to be anyone else. His head was pressed into my shoulder, and if I had to guess, he was out cold in a guest chair and I was his unwilling pillow.
I tried to move my arm.
It didn’t cooperate.
Skye made a soft, disgruntled noise and tightened his hold instinctively. Benji’s breath warmed the fabric of my hospital gown.
I stared at the ceiling for a long moment.
Well.
I didn’t die.
So there was that.
Unfortunately, now I had to live the rest of my life with the shame of running away because I had no idea how to talk about my feelings.
My stomach growled—loud enough to make Skye stir—and my face heated.
Through the bond, concern flared.
Then the far-off scent of coffee and cinnamon drifted in.
Vinny.
The door clicked open quietly, and even though I still couldn’t see well, I didn’t need to.
Vinny stepped inside balancing a hospital tray in one hand, a drink carrier in the other, and a paper bag tucked under his arm.
He stopped when he saw me, and for a second he just stood there.
Relief flooded the bond so hard it made my chest ache.
“You’re awake,” he said softly.
My stomach growled again in response.
“I felt that,” he admitted.
As he stepped closer, I couldn’t tell if he was smiling or if I’d found a fresh way to burden him.
“You’re starving,” he said, setting the bounty down on the nearby table. “I brought offerings.”
Then he unfolded something—careful, like it mattered—and crouched beside the bed.
He slid my glasses onto my face.
The world snapped into place.
Vinny looked like hell.
His shirt was half-unbuttoned and wrinkled beyond belief. Dark circles lived under his eyes like they’d moved in and refused to leave.
Before I could even try to apologize, Benji stirred.
His head lifted slowly from my shoulder—so slowly—until I realized there was a string of drool connecting us.
“Vi?” he rasped, wiping his face.
I nodded.
The drool-string snapped.
Benji blinked at me like I’d just risen from the dead.
“Dios mío,” he breathed. “Ay, you’re going to make me go grey.”
I tried to smile.
Behind me, Skye shifted, finally awake enough to register what was happening. His arm tightened around my waist on instinct, then he froze when he saw my eyes open.
“Oh,” he yawned. “Good.”
Then he laid back down and shut his eyes like this was a normal thing to wake up to.
But his arm loosened.
And now both my hands were free.
I pushed myself up carefully, and it felt like my body protested just for the fun of it.
I lifted one hand to sign.
Vinny caught it and pressed it gently back to my chest.
“Save it,” he murmured. “Let me talk first.”
For a moment we just stared at each other.
Then he nodded toward the food.
“Benji,” he said, “feed her while we talk. Her hunger is distracting me.”
Benji looked far too pleased with that instruction.
“I live to serve,” he murmured, grabbing the bag.
He rummaged for a moment and pulled out the world’s largest blueberry muffin.
My stomach growled again.
Benji smirked as he tore off a bite and put it in my mouth.
“She has a cup of milk too,” Vinny said, leaning closer.
His grip shifted on my hands. He brought my fingers to his mouth and kissed them, slow and careful.
That alone nearly made me choke.
“Chew,” Benji ordered.
I cut him a glare around the muffin. Vinny rolled his eyes.
“First things first,” Vinny said, voice rough. “How are you feeling?”
I swallowed the bite and took a breath.
Everything hurt.
My throat felt scraped raw. My chest ached like I’d run a marathon underwater. My wrist throbbed faintly where he’d marked me. I felt hollowed out and exhausted, like someone had scooped me clean.
But I was alive.
So I signed, Okay.
Vinny’s brows lifted slowly.
Benji paused mid-tear of the next bite and stared at me like I was lying.
Neither of them argued.
“You want the good news or the bad news first?” Vinny asked.
Bad, I signed.
He licked his lips and scrubbed a hand down his face.
“So,” he began carefully, “bad news is whatever Logan injected you with is going to stick around—at least for the pregnancy.”
My fingers went still in my lap.
He gestured vaguely toward my swollen body.
“You’re going to stay… advanced,” he clarified. “Your hormone levels are elevated, and your body’s compensating hard. That’s why you’re measuring ahead. That’s why everything feels…” He swallowed. “Terrible. The drug pushed your system into overdrive.”
Benji’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“You’ll be bigger than expected,” Vinny continued, keeping his voice even. “More uncomfortable than average. And some days you might hate me for getting you pregnant.”
That almost earned him a smile from me.
Almost.
“But,” he added quickly, “it’s manageable. The OB team has a plan. We’re going to monitor your heart and your blood pressure. You’ll have support. You can rest. For the rest of your pregnancy you sit back, and we handle everything.”
I swallowed slowly.
Permanent? I signed.
“For the pregnancy,” he repeated. “After delivery, your system should regulate. They don’t expect long-term organ damage. But the doctors are running labs to be sure.”
He reached for my hand again.
“You’re not poisoned,” he said quietly. “You’re just… different.”
That was a very Vinny way to say it.
“Not bad different,” he added quickly. “Just—” His mouth twisted. “I don’t know. More to love. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not meant to talk about this shit.”
Benji let out a quiet bark of laughter.
Vinny shot him a glare, then sighed and leaned closer.
“What I’m trying to say,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable, “is nothing is wrong with your body. It’s going to look different. Feel different. But no one thinks you’re gross, or ruined, or damaged, or anything like that. You’re just Violet.”
His thumb brushed lightly over my wrist, careful around the mark.
My chest did a weird flutter I wasn’t ready to deal with.
Good? I signed again.
Vinny hesitated.
Then, instead of answering, he tilted his head.
“Before we get to that,” he said carefully, “is there anything you’d like to tell us?”
I blinked.
Benji paused with the next bite of muffin halfway to my mouth, which irritated me more than I wanted to admit.
But Vinny was right.
My fist closed. I pressed it over my heart and moved it in a circle.
Sorry.
Vinny’s face fell.
His hand tightened around mine.
“No,” he said firmly. “No sorry.”
I frowned.
“Vi,” he said, voice low, “you don’t wake up from almost dying and start apologizing. That’s not how this works.”
Then his gaze sharpened, like he was trying to drag my brain back onto the track.
“While you were out, they did an ultrasound to make sure everything was okay.” He paused. “Do you have anything you want to tell us?”
Oh.
My brain stalled.
They knew.
They fucking knew.
My heart skipped, then I remembered—why did I care? I wanted a home. I wanted my pack. I wanted forever. They would’ve found out eventually.
I swallowed hard and cleared my throat.
It felt like gargling fiberglass.
But now was as good a time as any.
“Tw—in—s.”
The word came out shredded and humiliating.
Vinny didn’t react right away, and the silence was terrifying.
“…What?” he asked, confused.
Great. He couldn’t understand me. Fantastic.
I winced and tried again, slower, even though it felt like dragging sandpaper over my vocal cords.
“Twins.”
Vinny’s face softened. His hand slid into my hair.
“There’s my girl,” he murmured, like I’d done something brave instead of pathetic. “Okay. Good news—both babies are completely healthy.”
The word babies settled differently when he said it out loud.
“Two heartbeats,” he said calmly. “Strong. No abnormalities. No distress. They’re measuring a little ahead, but that matches the hormone spike.”
My eyes burned.
I mouthed, Two babies.
Because even though I’d known, suddenly it felt real in a way it hadn’t before. Even when I’d stared at two jellybean-shaped blobs on a screen with Reed beside me.
Maybe I’d been denying that this could go right.
I was pregnant.
The babies were healthy.
And their dad was happy they existed—not because he needed an heir.
The door opened again.
Serena walked in with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder and a small stack of folded clothes balanced on her forearm.
She stopped dead when she saw me sitting up.
I lifted my hand and waved like an idiot.
“You’re awake?” she demanded.
I nodded.
“I leave for fifteen minutes,” she groaned, stomping her foot. “Unbelievable.”
“I think she planned it,” Vinny teased.
Serena ignored him and crossed the room fast, dropping the bag before cupping my face in both hands.
“You couldn’t wait?” she asked quietly.
My lip wobbled as I shook my head.
“Hey—wait, no.” Serena’s eyes sharpened as she glanced over her shoulder. “I leave you with the boys and they make you cry?” Her voice snapped. “Vinny, what the fuck?”
“I didn’t—” Vinny started.
“She did it herself,” Skye added, still half-asleep behind me.
Serena turned back immediately, thumbs brushing under my eyes as more tears slipped free.
“Does something hurt?” she asked, voice soft now. “Are you dizzy?”
I shook my head again.
It was stupid.
I felt stupid.
But the tears wouldn’t stop.
They all stared at me as I put my hand flat over my chest and pulled it upward in a slow circle, over and over.
Happy.
Happy.
Happy.
“Happy,” Vinny repeated softly. “You’re crying because you’re happy?”
I nodded, tears spilling anyway, ridiculous and unstoppable.
Serena smiled—wide and bright and real—as she brushed her nose to mine.
“Oh, sweet girl.” She kissed my forehead, then pulled back. “You’re going to be happy for the rest of your life. We’ll make sure of it.”
I nodded frantically and hid my face in my hands to sob harder.
And through the bond—through the way my pack filled the space inside me—I had absolutely no doubt they meant it.
For the first time in my life, I’d be happy.
I’d be safe.
And I’d be loved unconditionally by someone other than Reed.