Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack novel Chapter 99

Chapter 99

Evelyn pov

I made my way to the medical wing that afternoon, Willow settled comfortably against my chest, having decided somewhat impulsively that a visit might do us both good-her first real introduction to her grandfather, and honestly, some quiet curiosity of my own about how he was actually recovering after everything.

He looked up when I entered, and something genuine and immediate lit his tired face at the sight of Willow, an expression so unguarded and warm it caught me slightly off guard given everything complicated still sitting between us.

“Evelyn.” He straightened slightly against his pillows, wincing faintly at the movement. “And Willow. I wasn’t expecting visitors today.”

“I hope that’s alright,” I said, settling into the chair beside his bed. “I thought it might be time she actually met you properly, rather than just hearing about you secondhand.”

“I’d like that very much,” he said, something almost emotional in his voice as he watched her, her small hand curled instinctively around my finger. “May I?”

I hesitated only briefly before nodding, carefully passing her into his arms, watching him hold her with surprising gentleness given his still-recovering condition, his weathered face soft with an expression I hadn’t witnessed from him before-genuine, uncomplicated tenderness.

“She’s beautiful,” he said quietly. “Looks like her mother, mostly, though I think I see a little of Damon in her eyes.”

“That’s what everyone says,” I said, watching him carefully, some old wariness still present despite the

obvious warmth of the moment.

We sat together for a while, easy conversation drifting between small updates about his recovery and gentle observations about Willow’s growing alertness, and I found myself, somewhat to my own surprise, genuinely enjoying the quiet visit despite everything complicated in our shared history.

But underneath the warmth, something else lingered in the room too-a quiet, heavy sadness I couldn’t quite place, something in the careful, deliberate way he held Willow, like he was memorizing the moment rather than simply enjoying it, some old grief still visible beneath his obvious happiness.

“Are you alright,” I asked eventually, noticing the shadow crossing his expression during a lull in

conversation.

“Just thinking,” he said quietly. “About everything I nearly missed. Everything I still might miss, if I don’t actually manage to change enough, quickly enough.” He looked down at Willow again, something wistful in his tired eyes. “Watching her, I keep thinking about all the years I spent too focused on control and tradition to properly appreciate the family right in front of me.”

I didn’t have an easy response to that, understanding the genuine weight of what he was working

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through, some complicated mixture of sympathy and lingering caution still present in my own chest.

The door opened before I could respond further, and a woman stepped into the room, striking and confident, dressed in clothes that suggested significant pack standing, something immediately proprietary in the way she moved toward the bed.

“Robert,” she said, a faint, knowing smirk crossing her face as she took in the scene-me, Willow, the obvious domestic warmth of the visit. “I heard you were recovering well. I thought I’d stop by properly this time, rather than simply sending flowers.”

Something shifted immediately in my chest, old instinct flaring sharp and immediate at her tone, at that particular, knowing smirk that suggested history I didn’t fully understand but instinctively distrusted.

My father-in-law’s expression, however, shifted into something hard and immediate, none of the warmth from moments earlier present at all now.

“Get out,” he said, his voice low and absolutely firm, carrying an authority I hadn’t heard from him since before the surgery. “And don’t come back. Not to this room, not to this pack, not anywhere near my family again.”

The woman’s smirk faltered, genuine surprise crossing her face at the sharpness of his response.” Robert, I don’t understand-”

“You understand perfectly well,” he said, still holding Willow carefully despite the obvious tension now radiating through his weakened frame. “I told you weeks ago that whatever arrangement we once had is entirely finished. I don’t know why you thought a hospital visit was appropriate, but I’m telling you clearly now-leave, and don’t return.”

She stared at him for a long moment, something calculating and clearly displeased crossing her expression, before glancing toward me and Willow with a look I couldn’t fully read-assessment, maybe,

or resentment.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice tight. “I hope your recovery goes well, Robert. Genuinely.”

She left without another word, the door clicking shut behind her, and I sat there processing what I’d just witnessed, old wariness and fresh confusion both tangling together in my chest.

“Who was that,” I asked carefully, once the door had fully closed.

He was quiet for a long moment, his expression shifting into something pained, though I couldn’t immediately tell whether it was emotional or physical distress.

“Someone from my past,” he said finally, his voice tight. “A companion, from years ago, before I understood how genuinely damaging that entire pattern actually was to everyone involved-your mother- in-law included. I ended it weeks ago, around the time everything shifted with the council ruling, but

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