Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack (Evelyn and Damon) novel Chapter 201

Damon pov

The search for Kira's brother took nearly a week, Callum's contacts within neighboring territories eventually tracing rumors of a young boy hidden among a small group of refugees who'd fled Damian's territory months earlier, before Miriam's own group had ever escaped.

I traveled personally to the location Callum's investigation had identified, understanding the genuine significance of what we might actually find, and prepared myself for whatever condition the boy might genuinely be in given everything his community had apparently survived.

Nothing quite prepared me for the actual sight of him.

He was small, considerably smaller than I'd expected given whatever age Miriam had suggested, his frame carrying obvious, severe evidence of prolonged malnutrition—hollowed cheeks, visible ribs beneath thin, worn clothing, the kind of physical fragility that spoke to months of genuine deprivation rather than simple, temporary hardship.

He flinched violently when I approached, scrambling backward against the wall of the small shelter where the refugee group had been hiding, his eyes wide with genuine, visceral terror.

"I'm not here to hurt you," I said carefully, keeping my voice as gentle and non-threatening as possible, understanding the genuine trauma clearly driving his desperate fear. "My name is Damon. I'm here to actually help you."

He didn't respond, simply continuing to press himself against the wall, his breathing rapid and shallow, and I felt genuine grief building at the sight of him, understanding exactly how thoroughly Damian's systematic violence had apparently traumatized this innocent child.

The elderly woman who'd been caring for him within this small refugee group approached carefully, her own expression carrying obvious concern. "He's been like this since the initial violence," she said quietly. "Barely speaks, flinches at any unfamiliar presence. We've done everything we genuinely could to actually help him heal, but resources here are considerably limited."

"Does he have a name," I asked gently, watching the boy continue his silent, terrified vigilance.

"Aiden," she confirmed. "He's Kira's younger brother, barely eight years old. He witnessed her execution directly, along with considerable additional violence before we managed to actually help him escape."

Fresh horror crashed through me at that revelation, understanding the genuine, devastating trauma this small child had apparently survived. "We have safe territory now," I said carefully, addressing Aiden directly despite his obvious continued fear. "Somewhere protected, somewhere you'd genuinely be safe from Damian's violence."

He shook his head slightly, still pressed against the wall, and I understood the genuine difficulty of actually convincing someone this traumatized to trust another unfamiliar adult, particularly given everything he'd apparently already survived.

She opened the door, and the moment her eyes landed on Aiden, something broke completely across her exhausted features.

"Aiden," she breathed, tears immediately streaming down her face.

He froze for a moment, staring at her with wide, uncertain eyes, before something in his own carefully maintained composure finally shattered entirely.

He broke into scared, overwhelming sobs, his small body shaking violently as he crossed the remaining distance and threw himself against her, and Miriam immediately gathered him close, her own tears falling freely as she held him tight.

"You're safe," she whispered, rocking him gently despite his continued, overwhelming distress. "I promise, sweetheart, you're genuinely safe now."

I stood back, watching this genuine, overwhelming reunion unfold, understanding the profound weight of everything this small child had actually survived, everything genuine trauma he was finally allowing himself to release now that he'd found someone genuinely familiar, someone whose presence apparently represented actual safety rather than continued danger.