Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack (Evelyn and Damon) novel Chapter 157

Damon pov

The call came late in the night, well past midnight, and I nearly dropped my phone in my rush to actually answer it, some instinctive dread and hope both surging through me simultaneously at the unfamiliar hour.

"Alpha-elect Cross," the healer's voice came through, carrying an urgency that immediately had me sitting bolt upright in bed. "We've found a match. A compatible donor, within our own pack territory."

I felt my entire body go rigid with sudden, overwhelming hope. "You're certain? A genuine match?"

"Preliminary testing confirms compatibility," she said. "We need to move quickly, though. Time is critical for organ viability. Can you get your father to the medical wing immediately?"

"We're on our way," I said, already moving, waking Evelyn beside me, my voice tight with barely contained emotion.

"What's happening," she asked, immediately alert despite the late hour.

"They found a donor," I said, my voice breaking slightly on the words. "A match, Evelyn. They need him at the medical wing right now."

We moved quickly through the apartment, and I made my way toward my father's room, finding him already stirring, apparently woken by the commotion.

"Dad." I crossed the room quickly, kneeling beside his bed. "They found a donor. A compatible match. We need to get you to surgery immediately."

His eyes widened, disbelief and hope both crossing his tired features simultaneously. "A match? Genuinely?"

"Genuinely," I confirmed, already helping him sit up carefully, understanding the urgency required despite his continued physical fragility. "We need to move quickly."

I called my mother immediately, relaying the news, and heard her breath catch audibly on the other end of the line before she promised to meet us at the medical wing as fast as she could manage.

We arrived within twenty minutes, and healers immediately swarmed around my father, preparing him rapidly for the emergency transplant surgery, their focused, urgent efficiency both reassuring and terrifying simultaneously given everything at stake.

My mother burst through the medical wing doors just as they began wheeling him toward the surgical suite, her face already streaked with tears, and she rushed to his side before they could fully move him away.

"Robert." Her voice broke completely as she reached for his hand. "They found one. A donor, finally."

I nodded, understanding the genuine significance of that detail, though my mind remained largely consumed with anxious worry about the surgery's actual outcome rather than curiosity about the donor's identity.

Callum arrived a while later, his own expression carrying obvious concern and hope both, and he settled into the waiting room with us, offering quiet, steady companionship through the long hours ahead.

"Any updates on Genevieve," I asked at one point, needing something else to focus my anxious attention on beyond simply the agonizing surgical wait.

"She's been formally transferred to the psychiatric facility," Callum confirmed. "Permanent placement, given the severity of her documented instability and the repeated, escalating violence she demonstrated. The facility's confirmed she'll remain there indefinitely, under close, continuous supervision."

"Forever," I said, needing that confirmation stated clearly.

"As close to forever as any formal arrangement can genuinely guarantee," Callum said. "Given everything she's done, the council's ensured this placement includes considerable, ongoing restriction. She won't be returning to pack territory, won't have opportunity to threaten this family again."

I felt genuine relief at that confirmation, understanding that particular threat had finally, thoroughly concluded, though my primary attention remained fixed on the surgical suite's still-closed doors, waiting anxiously for any sign of news about my father's condition.

"We hope forever," my mother said quietly, echoing my own private thought, her voice still thick with lingering tears despite some measure of composure gradually returning. "Whatever genuine mental health struggles she's actually facing, I don't think I can ever fully forgive what she's done, what she's cost this family."