Chapter 73: Chapter 73
Sophie’s POV.
I woke up to the smell of antiseptic and something medicinal that made my nose wrinkle.
The infirmary ceiling was white and clinical, nothing like the soft darkness of our bedroom. I blinked a few times, trying to orient myself, and that’s when the aches started registering. My ribs screamed when I shifted. My arms felt raw where hands had grabbed me. The cut on my temple throbbed with a dull, persistent ache.
Christian was sitting in a chair beside my bed.
He hadn’t moved, I realized. Not since they’d brought me in. His hair was disheveled, there were scratches on his neck, and his knuckles were wrapped in gauze. He looked like he’d fought his way through a war zone. Which, technically, he had.
"Hey," I said quietly.
His eyes snapped open. He was out of the chair before I could take another breath, his hand finding mine carefully, like I might break.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, but his voice sounded wrong—hollow, like he was asking because he was supposed to, not because he actually wanted to know.
"Like I got thrown into a wall," I said. "Because I did."
Maria appeared at the doorway like she’d been waiting for me to wake up. She ran through a bunch of tests—checking my pupils, asking me questions, and pressing gently on my ribs to assess the bruising. Everything was fine, she said. Physically stable. But she recommended rest and monitoring because trauma did weird things to the nervous system.
I already knew that. I could feel it in the way my hands wanted to shake, in the way every sound made me tense up.
After Maria left, Christian helped me sit up. His hands hovered around my ribs, uncertain, like he was afraid touching me would cause more damage. I reached for his hand instead, looking at the split knuckles wrapped in gauze.
"You fought three guys," I said.
"More than that." Christian’s jaw tightened. "I wasn’t really keeping count."
We didn’t talk about it. Not yet. I was still processing the fact that I’d used my Luna abilities instinctively, that I’d channeled supernatural power without thinking or planning. The power had just... existed, and I’d reached for it like I’d been doing it my whole life.
Marcus entered the infirmary with his tablet, his expression grim. He ran through the aftermath while Christian’s hand remained wrapped around mine. Tom’s security team had fled toward the northern territories. Building security footage was wiped from Tom’s entry point, but Knight Industries’ private cameras had captured everything. Three of Tom’s men were in custody.
Three of them didn’t make it out.
I felt Christian’s fingers tighten slightly against mine when Marcus said that, but his face remained neutral.
"What about the deal?" I asked, surprising myself with the question.
"Still intact," Marcus said. "Connor called the clients and personally explained the situation in very vague terms. They’re willing to move forward with the contract pending final signatures."
Something tight in my chest loosened. At least that hadn’t been for nothing.
After Marcus left with another update to relay to the other senior warriors, Christian broke.
He didn’t cry or make any big dramatic gestures. He just... broke. His shoulders sagged, his hand relaxed, and all the carefully maintained control he’d been holding onto crumbled.
"The moment I felt your terror through the bond, something in me shattered," Christian said quietly. "My wolf took over. I transformed without thinking. Without considering consequences. All that mattered was getting to you."
I understood what he was confessing. He was telling me that his protective instincts had overridden everything—diplomatic considerations, strategic planning, all of it meant nothing when he’d felt my fear.
"I did the same thing," I said. "When they trapped me, I didn’t think about training or control. I just reached for power and used it. Because getting back to you was the only thing that mattered."
Christian looked at me for a long moment, and I watched the tension ease out of his shoulders. He’d needed to hear that. I needed to know that our instincts matched, that this connection between us went deeper than just physical attraction or pack bonds.
He lay down on the narrow infirmary bed beside me, careful not to jostle my ribs. I positioned myself against his chest, my head fitting into that space between his shoulder and chin. We didn’t talk. We just existed in the same space, breathing together, and I focused on the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath my ear.
His arm wrapped around my waist, anchoring me, and for the first time since the stairwell, I felt genuinely safe enough to let my guard down.
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