The Alpha's Unclaimed Mate (Jason and Laila) by Caroline Above Story novel Chapter 29

Jason's POV

I stood outside the double doors of the cardiac unit, hands braced against the cold pane of glass, as if I pressed hard enough, I could push through and take her place. Inside, machines hummed and beeped in their steady, merciless rhythm, surrounding a small figure that looked breakable under all those wires and tubes.

Ava.

The brave little girl who'd tugged on my sleeve weeks ago, insisting I help her find a stuffed rabbit. The girl who'd looked at me with eyes too wise for her years, eyes so familiar it had nearly stopped my heart.

Now those same eyes were closed, her lashes dark against her pale cheeks, her chest rising faintly beneath the weight of oxygen and monitors.

Something primal and furious roared inside me, demanding blood. Brittany had done this. My supposed mate—the woman chosen by fate itself—had shoved a sick child and triggered a cardiac episode that could've ended her life.

What kind of monster harmed a six-year-old?

"The medical team says she's stable," Marcus's voice came low and steady beside me. He didn't break my stare into the room, but I heard the tightness in his tone. "Her rhythm has normalized, but they've got her sedated. Just to keep the strain down."

I nodded, though I couldn't tear my eyes from her. Relief and rage wrestled inside me, neither willing to give ground.

"And Vanessa?" I asked after a moment, the name catching in my throat like a stone.

"She's still being treated for the drug. The doctors want her kept under observation, but she refuses to leave the pediatric floor." He hesitated. "She's been asking to see Ava every few minutes. Pacing the hallway like…"

"Like a caged wolf," I finished for him, my jaw tight.

Marcus gave a small grunt of agreement, but I barely heard it. My gaze had shifted to Vanessa, visible through the glass as she moved back and forth outside the nurses' station.

Her hair was tangled, her hospital gown gaped slightly at one shoulder, and yet her presence radiated a raw, desperate strength. Her hands flexed unconsciously at her sides, thumb rubbing against her index finger again and again in a nervous little motion.

My breath caught.

That gesture. I'd seen it before. Not just once or twice—but hundreds of times, years ago, from a girl who used to pace my cabin when she thought I wasn't looking.

Laila.

The realization caught me off guard and left me feeling unbalanced. I stepped back from the window. My pulse thundered in my ears. That small, unconscious tic was hers. It was her.

"No," I whispered under my breath, shaking my head. Laila was dead. Coincidences existed. People had nervous habits. It couldn't mean what I thought it meant.

Could it?

"Alpha?" Dr. Martinez appeared at my shoulder, his expression measured but not without warmth. "Ava's awake now. She's been asking for ‘the nice man who helped find her bunny.' Would you like to see her?"

My chest constricted at the words. She remembered me.

"Yes," I said, my voice rough.

The door clicked open, and I stepped into the room like I was crossing into sacred ground. Machines beeped gently, the smell of antiseptic mingling with something sweeter—lavender shampoo maybe, lingering in the girl's hair.

"Jason!" Ava's tired little face lit up as soon as she saw me, though her cheeks were still pale beneath the cannula taped under her nose. "You came back."

"Of course I did, sweetheart." I pulled the chair close, moving carefully around the wires and tubes. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. But sleepy." She studied me with that disarming perception that made her seem older than she was. "You look sad. Are you okay?"

I blinked, taken aback. She was the one lying in a hospital bed, fragile as spun glass, yet she was worried about me.

"I was worried about you," I admitted. "What happened scared me."

"The bad aunty pushed me." Ava's lips turned down solemnly. "But it wasn't very hard. I just got surprised and fell funny."

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