The Alpha's and Their Assassin Mate

Chapter 7

Dean's POV

“Max,” I said gently as I walked into the hospital room. I spent the last three days repairing Evalyn’s shop with the help of several pack members.

She didn’t look up but I saw her fingers tighten on the bassinet, the smallest tremor running through them.

We have been waiting each day for the pups to get discharged, but still no word on when they could go home. Pack members drifted in and out, offering warm smiles and whispered blessings for their future Alphas, but Max barely seemed to notice. Her world had narrowed to the two tiny bodies sleeping beneath the soft glow of the bassinet lights —nothing else seemed to reach her.

I watched her hover over them, her fingers tracing the delicate curve of Asher’s ear as if memorizing it, as if afraid he might disappear if she looked away. Her exhaustion went deeper than her movements. I felt it in the hitch of her breath, the tremble in her hands, and the faint ache that reached me through the bond. She hadn’t slept more than a handful of fractured hours, and even those had been restless and full of nightmares.

Titan watched her through my eyes, his voice low. “It’s like she’s bracing for something that isn’t happening.”

He was right. She wasn’t reacting to the present. She was reacting to the past, to memories that still lived under her skin, to the fear that losing one child meant she could lose another. She carried that fear quietly, tucked behind her ribs where she thought none of us could reach it.

I lowered myself into the chair beside her, close enough that our shoulders nearly touched. I didn’t speak. I didn’t reach for her. I simply made myself present, a steady weight beside her in the hope she would lean toward it.

Her breath wavered, the smallest break in her composure. I reached out to take her hand in mine and she held it tight.

For a long moment, we stayed like that — her watching the twins with a gaze that held too much history, me watching her with a quiet ache I didn’t bother to hide. The bond between us hummed faintly, a thin thread she hadn’t closed off completely.

“How’s our mate?” Jason’s voice brushed against my mind, checking in.

“Not good,” I answered honestly, the words thick in my throat. “I finally understand. This isn’t just exhaustion — it’s grief. She lived through the loss of her family in that car accident. Except this time, she was the one who almost died. She’s not scared… she’s terrified… of losing them again.”

“s**t,” Jason muttered. “What do we do?”

I hesitated. Jason’s question twisted something inside me. I wanted to have an answer for him, but I didn’t.

I closed the link between my brothers and reached inward toward Titan, his steadfast, ancient presence curled beneath my skin.

“I don’t know how, but we need to get her out of this room,” I admitted silently.

Titan stirred, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my bones. “We may not understand the grief of losing a child, but we understand the terror of almost losing her.” My throat tightened. I understood all too well what he meant. The terror of almost losing her still scares me more than anything. He continued, “so, ask yourself — what would you do to escape that kind of fear?”

But I thought about his question. “Somewhere quiet,” I murmured, half to Titan, half to myself. “Somewhere the world can’t reach her… the way it can’t reach me.”

And then the answer rose, clear and certain. “The cave.”

“I think it’s perfect. It’s quiet and peaceful.” Titan’s approval washed through me, warm and sure.

I reopened the link to my brothers.

Zane’s voice came through first, quiet but steady. “We’ll remind her she’s not alone. She’s still with us, and so are our pups.”

“Right, but what do we do right now,” Luke asked.

“Titan and I have an idea. Is anyone free to be with the pups?” I asked.

A chorus of disappointed ‘no’ echoed through the link. We passed our duties to our Beta, Delta, and Gamma who accepted without hesitation, but some strange rogue attachs have happened that was more than they could handle — that’s why they called us in. Since then, we’ve been moving from one responsibility to the next without a moment to breathe. The second we finished one, another was waiting for us.

Zane was out tracking the rogues who’d been leaving mutilated animals along the borders, terrorizing the patrols and anyone brave enough to run outside pack lands. Beta Marcus was with him, but even the two of them together were stretched thin after the last attacks — the injured returning home with the dead they’d had to bring back. Luke was working with them from a distance, updating the border security systems and quietly combing through company files to narrow down who could be behind the embezzlement.

Jason had stepped in to cover training with Gamma Jackson, making sure the warriors and patrols stayed sharp so there were no gaps for the rogues to slip through.

Other than helping Evalyn, I’ve been working inside the pack — moving from one home to the next, trying to hold everyone steady after the news of the deaths. I spent hours sitting with grieving families, helping them make sense of what they’d lost, visiting the injured and doing whatever I could to ease the strain on the ones caring for them. And when the fear started turning into anger, I had to pull a few retired warriors back from trying to play hero and charging into the woods after the rogues. Keeping the peace has become its own kind of battle, which kept us running non‑stop for days.

Since none of us could leave what we were doing, the nurses were the natural choice, but they also had a few new mothers who needed them. And it made me think, instead of adding to their workload, maybe we could call someone who’d been hoping for a little extra time with the pups. Plenty of women had offered during their visit, but I know the perfect person. Amelia.

Amelia had once been our Luna, stepping aside when Max became our mate and Luna — but she never stepped out of our lives. She’d guided us through those early years, steady and fierce, becoming the closest thing we had to a second mother. When it came to her boys, she never hesitated.

“I’ll ask Amelia. She’d love to watch over them,” I said with a smile.

“Understatement,” Jason snorted. “She circles this hospital like a hawk, waiting to scoop them up can carry them off.”

We laughed. He wasn’t wrong. At first, she’d just stop by to check on us. Then she started showing up with food, blankets, clothes — anything she could think of to justify another visit. As if giving herself a purpose made it less obvious. We didn’t have a problem with it until it started getting to Max. Amelia saw it before we did and didn’t come as frequently.

The moment I reached for her through the link, her excitement hit me like a burst of sunlight. Calling her excited is the understatement of the year. I barely got three words in before she practically shouted back, “YES! I’m coming. I’ll be there in two minutes.”

Her joy crackled through the bond so brightly that even my brothers felt it through me. Amelia had been hovering around the hospital for days, waiting for any excuse to get near the twins. I bet she was practically halfway out the door the moment I reached for her. I let the link fade and returned my focus to the room, to Max.

“Come on, Little Star,” I murmured, brushing a hand down her arm. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“I don’t want to leave them,” she said, her voice fraying at the edges.

I understood — goddess knew I did — but she wasn’t herself. She’d slipped back behind the walls she used to live behind, the ones she built long before she ever found us. The grief from her past and the terror of almost dying are dragging her under. It showed in the dullness of her eyes, in the way she hovered over the twins like she was afraid the world might take her from them again. If we didn’t get her out of this room, she’d wear herself down to nothing long before the twins were even strong enough to come home.

“She’s fading,” Titan murmured, not unkindly. “We need to move her. Now.”

I just hoped that where I was planning on taking Max would allow her to breathe again — to help her regain her strength, find balance, and come back to herself. To bring me back my Max.

“You’ve been eating and sleeping, but that’s not enough,” I said gently. “You need sunlight, fresh air, and to move around.” When she didn’t budge, I leaned in and pressed my lips to her temple. “What if the pups aren’t getting the nutrients they need because you’re not caring for yourself properly?”

She stiffened, then let out a sharp, breathy laugh. “That’s a shitty low blow.”

I grinned. “It wouldn’t be shitty if it wasn’t true.”

“I can’t leave them alone,” Max said looking at me with scared eyes. She faced a mafia don, risked her life to save our pups and not once did I see an ounce of fear, but right now, that’s all I see.

“Amelia is on her way. Other than us, she is the only other wolf I would trust our pups with,” I said while gently pulling Max to her feet and leading her to the bathroom.

She huffed, but the tension in her shoulders eased — just a fraction. Sighing, she settled Asher beside his sister, her fingers lingering on their blankets as if she could imprint her presence into the fabric. Then, with a steady breath, she turned toward the bathroom, her steps purposeful even if they carried a quiet reluctance.