Majori's POV:
She startled, eyes wide, her smile fading away.
He stepped closer, his voice low now but every word struck like the blow of a hammer.
"Leave. Now. I don't want to hear another word from you."
"You're defending her that much?" Dane's fists clenched, her voice trembling. "She betrayed you once, Vincent! She made you lose everything, have you forgotten? And you know perfectly well who she belongs to now. Brian's spy, wasn't he her ally? Why are you still worried about her?"
Vincent looked at her, no longer angry but only frighteningly cold.
"Enough. Don't speak nonsense. This isn't your concern."
"Not my concern? I'm from the Silverfang pack! The enemy is here, how could it not concern me?"
Her body went rigid; her lips quivered.
"Leave, Dane." Vincent repeated. The doctors and nurses in the room were staring at them now. With no other choice, she turned away. When the door closed, her expensive perfume still lingered in the air but it only made the room feel heavier, more suffocating.
Vincent stood in silence for a moment then sat back down beside me.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, not looking at me. "Don't mind her."
"It's fine."
I bit my lip, glancing at Vincent, channeling the tension in me into a fierce grip on the blanket. I wasn't sure what to do next but… I had no other choice.
"Vincent," I began, gathering what little courage I had left, "can we… talk in private for a moment?"
He froze, visibly surprised. His eyes widened slightly, flicked over me then stopped. For a fleeting second, amid the confusion clouding his face, I caught a spark in his eyes not suspicion, not coldness but something else. Relief. Maybe even joy.
A feeling he didn't have time to hide.
My heart tightened, and my lips curved faintly. I lowered my gaze to hide that small smile.
"If possible," I said softly, "I'd like it to be just the two of us."
Vincent was silent for a few seconds then turned toward the nurses and doctors in the room.
"Everyone out."
"Yes, sir."
They left quietly and the door closed behind them. Now it was just the two of us, the steady drip of the IV line marking time between us. The amber light fell across his face, deepening the golden hue of his eyes like honey stirred with shadow.
I inhaled deeply. Inside my head, a war raged should I ask for his help? Would he believe me? I knew the moment I spoke, I'd sound shameless. Disgraceful. After all, Vincent and I… we had nothing left. Not even friendship. Maybe even resentment. He probably still hated me.
But if not him, then who? I had no one else left to trust, no one else to turn to. No matter what stood between us, I still believed in him and I knew, deep down, he wouldn't refuse me. Selfish, isn't it?
The silence stretched. My palms were slick with cold sweat despite the faint warmth in my chest. I knew I shouldn't drag him into my chaos again, it was unfair to keep asking him to pay for my pain. But then my parents' faces flashed before me: their gentle eyes, their tired smiles and I couldn't hold back anymore. There was no turning back now.
"Vincent," I said, "I need to ask you for a favor…"
I didn't go on right away and Vincent didn't rush me. He just waited. He always understood my hesitations, my silences and he never forced anything out of anyone.
He looked curious, maybe even a little worried already guessing what I might ask. His brows furrowed slightly, eyes fixed on me.
"A favor? What kind of favor?"
"It's… about my parents." My hands tightened on my lap.
"Your parents? What happened to them?" His brow creased deeper of course, he had no idea. Brian had hidden everything too well. To the world, my parents still looked like they were living comfortably and peacefully, the proud parents of Majori, the woman Alpha Brian adored most. But it wasn't true. Neither they nor I were happy. I was certain Brian had turned them into hostages, pawns to control me.
The thought broke me. My breath hitched and I started to cry.
I told him everything. Every detail.
I told him how Brian had lied claiming my parents were living well at Luna Heights, a place demolished three years ago. About the photos, the videos, the endless promises that I'd "see them soon." And about the creeping terror when I began to realize none of it was real.
My voice grew hoarse. I had to stop every few sentences to catch my breath. Vincent said nothing, just listened. His hand rested on his knee, knuckles white from how tightly he clenched them.
"I… I know how shameless this must sound," I said, lifting my head to meet his gaze. My eyes burned, brimming but refusing to spill. "This isn't about me. It's about my parents. They knew you once… and they always spoke well of you. Please... please, Vincent, help me."
I hadn't even finished the plea when he suddenly raised a hand.
"Wait."
I froze. My brain, in panic, interpreted it as rejection. My heart sank, panic spreading like ink. But then Vincent laughed softly.
"I just want to ask were you normally not obedient? Is that why Brian needed to use your parents to threaten you?"
Not a refusal but the question cut almost as sharply. My stomach dropped. His tone wasn't cruel but it left me speechless, fumbling for balance between truth and deceit. If I had known beforehand, I would have lied, spun another story, anything else.
Vincent was far too perceptive. Of course he sensed something off. But I couldn't let him know the truth, the truth about me and Brian.
Seeing my silence and the way my eyes darted like a pendulum, Vincent chuckled quietly again.
"So the fairy-tale romance everyone talks about isn't as perfect as it sounds, huh? Sounds rather strained to you."
I knew that if he pressed just a little more, I'd break and spill everything without realizing it. That's why I struck first hit the one nerve that would make him stop asking. My supposed betrayal. My supposed love for Brian.
"That's between Brian and me," I said evenly. "Please don't ask. Every relationship has its… complications."
Sure enough, Vincent's expression changed at my words. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"All right, all right, it's personal between the two of you. I have no right to interfere."