Chapter 95: Chapter 95
Sophie’s POV
Christian collapsed in my arms, unconscious.
"No, no, no." I pressed my hands to his chest. "Christian, wake up!"
"Diana!" Marcus shouted. "NOW!"
Diana appeared with her medical team, supplies in hand.
"Move, Sophie," Diana ordered.
"No." I kept my hands on Christian, channeling every bit of Luna power I had left. "I can heal him."
"You’re exhausted. You’ll kill yourself."
"I don’t care!"
Golden light poured from my palms into Christian’s chest. His wounds began closing. Slowly. Too slowly.
"His blood loss is severe," Diana said, working beside me. "He has deep lacerations across his torso. Possible internal damage. Sophie, I need you to step back."
"I can do this." Tears blurred my vision. "I can save him."
"Not if you die first." Diana’s voice was gentle but firm. "Help me carry him to medical. You can heal him there."
Marcus lifted Christian like he weighed nothing. Christian’s head lolled back, his breathing shallow.
We ran.
The pack followed in stunned silence. Their Alpha—unconscious, bleeding, maybe dying.
I held Christian’s hand as we ran, pumping healing energy through our bond continuously.
*Don’t you dare leave me,* I sent desperately. *I need you. The pack needs you. Don’t you dare die.*
No response.
Christian’s consciousness was slipping away from me through our bond.
"Faster!" I shouted.
We burst into the medical facility. Diana’s team had a table ready.
They laid Christian down. Blood immediately soaked through the white sheets.
"Diana." My voice broke. "Please."
"I’m doing everything I can." Diana’s hands moved with practiced efficiency, cleaning wounds, applying pressure, and checking vitals. "His heartbeat is weak. Breathing irregularly. Sophie, I need you to focus your healing on his heart and lungs. Keep them functioning."
I placed both hands on Christian’s chest and concentrated.
My Luna power flowed into him, but it was like trying to fill a bucket with a hole in the bottom. The energy poured out as fast as I put it in.
"It’s not working!" Panic clawed at my throat.
"It is working." Diana never looked up from her work. "His heart is still beating because of you. Don’t stop."
Minutes felt like hours.
Diana stitched wounds. Applied bandages. Administered medicine.
I kept channeling healing energy until I thought I’d collapse myself.
Christian’s breathing stabilized slightly. His heartbeat grew stronger.
But he didn’t wake up.
"Why isn’t he waking up?" I demanded.
"His body needs time," Diana said. "He’s been through extreme trauma. The healing is working, but he needs rest."
"How long?"
"Hours. Maybe days." Diana finally met my eyes. "Sophie, you need to rest too. You’re pale as a ghost."
"I’m not leaving him."
"I didn’t say leave. I said, Rest. Sit down before you fall down."
Someone brought a chair. I sat beside Christian’s bed, keeping one hand on his arm, maintaining our healing connection.
Marcus appeared in the doorway.
"Tom’s secured in the prison," he reported. "Still unconscious but stable. The captured rogues are locked down. And Vanessa..."
"Still gone," I finished.
"Yeah." Marcus looked at Christian. "How is he?"
"Alive." My voice was barely a whisper. "Barely."
The pack began gathering outside the medical facility. I felt them through our Luna bond—worried, grieving, united.
They’d lost one Alpha today and might lose another.
Connor entered with official-looking documents.
"I need to process Harold’s death formally," he said quietly. "For pack records. Christian will need to review and sign when he wakes up."
*When* he wakes up. Not *if*.
I held onto that hope like a lifeline.
Diana worked through the night, monitoring Christian’s condition. I stayed in the chair, hand on his arm, channeling healing energy continuously.
His wounds closed. His breathing evened out. His heartbeat strengthened.
But his eyes remained closed.
"Talk to him," Diana suggested around midnight. "Sometimes they can hear us even when unconscious."
So I talked.
I told Christian about how the pack was mourning Harold despite everything. How Patterson had personally apologized for doubting Christian’s leadership. How even the traditionalists admitted Christian had proven his strength.
I told him about Tom in the prison. About Vanessa still missing. About all the plans we needed to make.
I told him I loved him. Over and over. Like maybe if I said it enough times, he’d come back to me.
Dawn light crept through the windows.
Diana checked Christian’s vitals again.
"His condition is improving," she said. "But Sophie, you need to sleep. Your body can’t sustain this level of healing indefinitely."
"I can’t—"
"You can, and you will." Marcus stepped forward. "I’ll stay with him. If anything changes, I’ll wake you immediately."
I wanted to argue. But exhaustion was winning.
"Two hours," I conceded. "Then I’m coming back."
Diana set up a cot in the corner of the medical room. I lay down, keeping Christian in my sight.
My eyes closed.
I woke to someone squeezing my hand.
I shot upright.
Christian’s eyes were open.
"Sophie," he whispered, his voice rough.
I was at his side in seconds, tears streaming down my face.
"You’re awake. You’re really awake."
"How long was I out?"
I looked out the window. Late afternoon sun. "About twelve hours."
"Harold?"
"Dead."
Christian’s expression was complicated. Relief. Grief. Guilt. All mixed together.
"The pack?" he asked.
"Safe. Waiting for you."
He tried to sit up. Failed. "I feel like I got hit by a truck."
"You nearly died. Lying down is mandatory."
"Bossy Luna," he said, but he was smiling.
"Someone has to keep you alive."
Christian’s hand found mine. "Thank you. For not giving up on me."
"Never." I kissed his forehead. "You’re stuck with me."
"Best fate I could imagine."
Diana entered, relief flooding her face when she saw Christian awake.
"Welcome back, Alpha," she said. "You gave us quite a scare."
"Sorry about that." Christian looked around. "Tom? Vanessa?"
"Tom’s in prison," I said. "Vanessa escaped."
Christian’s jaw tightened. "Then this isn’t over yet."
"No," I admitted. "But we won tonight. We survived. And we’re together."
He pulled me closer. "Together."
Marcus appeared in the doorway.
"The pack’s asking about you," he said. "Word spread that you’re awake."
"Tell them their Alpha is alive," Christian said. "And that we’ll hold a proper memorial for Harold tomorrow."
Marcus nodded and left.
Christian looked at me. "I killed my father, Sophie."
"I know."
"Does that make me a monster?"
"It makes you a leader who protects his pack." I held his face in my hands. "Harold would never have stopped. You made the only choice you could."
"It doesn’t feel like victory."
"Because you’re not him. Harold would have celebrated. You’re grieving. That’s what makes you different."
Christian pulled me onto the bed beside him, carefully avoiding his injuries.
We lay there together, processing everything that had happened.
Outside, the pack waited.
Tom sat in prison.
Vanessa was still out there somewhere.
But in that moment, holding my mate, I let myself believe that maybe—just maybe—the worst was behind us.
Christian’s breathing evened out as he fell into a healing sleep.
I stayed awake, watching him, making sure he kept breathing.
Because I’d almost lost him tonight.
And I was never taking him for granted again.
