Fated to the Alpha Who Killed Me (by Sherry) novel Chapter 107

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17:10 Mon, Jun 8

Fated to the Alpha Who Killed Me

Chapter 107

Violet’s POV:

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Evan leaned against the doorframe with his usual doctor’s coat, his blonde hair slightly disheveled as if he’d

been running his hands through it.

“No,” I replied.

“Well,” he said quietly, “I know it’s late, but I was thinking you might not want to spend New Year’s Eve

alone in here. The hospital roof has a pretty decent view of the city skyline. We could watch the countdown

from up there if you want. Better than staring at your phone, at least.”

I was about to answer when a young nurse walked past, stopping short when she spotted him. “Dr. Thorne? I

thought you were off tonight. Isn’t Dr. Harper supposed to be on the night shift?”

Evan’s expression didn’t change, smooth and practiced. “Harper wasn’t feeling well, so I offered to cover for

him. Figured I’d be around anyway.”

Amy nodded and continued down the hallway. I watched the exchange with growing awareness. He wasn’t

supposed to be here. He’d given up his New Year’s Eve to stay at the hospital, presumably because he knew

I’d be alone. The realization settled over me like a warm blanket I didn’t know I needed, and for a moment I

couldn’t speak around the tightness in my throat.

I swallowed hard, pushing down the complicated tangle of gratitude and guilt that threatened to overwhelm

1. me. “Okay,” I said quietly, reaching for the thick cardigan draped over the chair beside my bed.

The hospital roof was freezing, the January wind cutting through my layers with brutal efficiency, but the

view was breathtaking. Frost’s downtown district sprawled before us, a glittering constellation of lights and

glass towers, the tallest buildings already beginning their pre–midnight light show.

In one corner of the roof, someone had left behind supplies from the staff New Year’s party that had

apparently wrapped up earlier in the evening. There were a few boxes of party poppers, confetti cannons,

and plastic noise makers scattered across a folding table, abandoned but still festive.

Evan walked over and picked up two party poppers, handing me one with a small smile. “Traditional

equipment. You pull the string when the countdown hits zero.” He paused, glancing at the distant lights. “By

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Chapter 107

the way, Mason Morrison’s heart surgery went extremely well. He’ll be discharged in a few days, fully

recovered.”

The name hit me like ice water. I kept my expression neutral, but my grip tightened on the party popper

until the cardboard crinkled under my fingers. “That’s good news,” I said carefully, my voice flat. “You should

tell Daemon. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear it.”

“I don’t need to tell him. Celeste will make sure he knows first thing.”

“Well,” I said after a moment, “that’s good then.”

The countdown reached two minutes. The crowd noise from the streets below grew louder, people shouting

and laughing, the energy building toward that final moment. Evan and I both raised our party poppers,

holding them ready. Sixty seconds. Fifty. Forty.

When the countdown hit zero, I pulled the string on my party popper. Colorful streamers exploded into the

air around me, twisting and falling in bright spirals of pink and gold and silver. But instead of celebrating,

instead of shouting “Happy New Year” like everyone else in the city below, I turned my face toward the

heavens and screamed, “Fuck you, Daemon Blackwood!”

The words tore out of my throat with five years of suppressed rage and heartbreak behind them, raw and

vicious and completely uncontrolled. My chest heaved, my eyes burned.

Evan didn’t move, didn’t try to stop me or calm me down. He just stood there, silent and steady, giving me

space to fall apart. When I finally ran out of breath and sagged against the railing, shaking and empty, he

stepped closer and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, his hand giving my arm a gentle, reassuring

squeeze.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out with trembling hands. The first message was a voice note

from my father. “Happy New Year, sweetheart! Your mother and I are so proud of you. We love you more

than words can say.” His voice was warm and steady, exactly what I needed to hear, and I had to blink back

tears as I listened to it twice.

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Chapter 107

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