Broken By Love, Healed By Fate

Chapter 5

Diana’s POV

I arrived early at the clinic after dropping Damian off at school. My mind was still churning from yesterday's encounter. Ryan's stunned face when he saw Damian haunted me all night. I hadn't slept a wink. Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured him connecting the dots, seeing his own features reflected in my son's face.

The morning dew still clung to the grass as I rounded the corner toward the clinic's main entrance. I stopped dead in my tracks.

Ryan.

He stood there, leaning against the stone pillar, looking as if he'd been waiting for hours. His clothes were rumpled, his hair uncombed, so different from the perfectly groomed Alpha I remembered. When he spotted me, his posture straightened instantly, a hopeful expression crossing his face.

"Diana," he called, pushing away from the pillar. "Please, just give me a chance to—"

I turned on my heel without acknowledging him and walked briskly toward the back entrance, my footsteps quickening when I heard his following behind me.

"Five minutes!" he called after me. "That's all I'm asking for!"

I slammed the back door behind me, pressing my back against it as if he might try to force his way in. My heart hammered against my ribs as Mira approached, concern etched across her face.

"Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"In a manner of speaking." I pushed away from the door and marched through the corridor, summoning my head of security with a sharp gesture. "He's here."

"The Alpha?" Mira hurried to keep pace with me.

I nodded grimly. "I want guards at every entrance. He is not to set foot in this building."

My head of security, a stocky wolf named Tomas, appeared from a side room. "Trouble, Healer?"

"If he shows up at any entrance, don't let him in," I instructed, my voice leaving no room for argument. "I don't care if he's on fire. He does not enter this building."

Mira exchanged a glance with Tomas. "Diana, maybe you should—"

"This isn't up for discussion," I cut her off, blood rushing to my face. "He is not part of my life anymore. He's not part of Damian's life. He never will be."

Tomas nodded firmly. "Understood, Healer."

"What did he say to you yesterday?" Mira asked, following me into my private office.

I slammed a stack of patient files down on my desk. "Nothing I want to hear."

"Did he ask about Damian?"

My hands trembled slightly as I flipped open the first file. "Mira, I need to prepare for my first patient. Please see that I'm not disturbed unless it's an emergency."

She lingered in the doorway. "You can't avoid this conversation forever. If he recognized Damian—"

"I said I don't want to discuss it!" My voice cracked like a whip, and I immediately regretted my tone. Mira had been with me since the beginning, had helped me raise Damian. She deserved better. "I'm sorry. I just... I need to focus on work right now."

Her expression softened. "Of course. But Diana... he's an Alpha. If he wants to know his son—"

"He gave up that right five years ago," I said quietly, turning to look out the window. "I won't let him disrupt our lives now."

Mira sighed and left, closing the door softly behind her. I forced myself to focus on the patient files, but the words swam before my eyes. Outside, I could just make out Ryan's figure, now sitting on a stone bench near the clinic entrance.

I spent the day locked in my laboratory, focusing on preparing more plague treatments. The process was delicate, requiring precise measurements and timing. Normally, it absorbed all my attention, but today my mind kept drifting back to Ryan, to the look on his face when he realized Damian was his son.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

"Enter," I called, measuring out drops of moonflower essence into a vial.

One of my younger assistants, Lena, poked her head in. "Healer? He's still there."

I didn't need to ask who she meant. "And?"

"He hasn't moved all day. Just sitting there." She shifted uncomfortably. "Some of the staff took him water. It's... well, it's very hot today."

I carefully set down the dropper, annoyed at the pity in her voice. "Let him sit there until he rots."

"He says he won't leave until you speak with him."

"Then he'll be waiting a very long time."

Lena bit her lip. "People are starting to talk. The patients are curious why an Alpha is camped outside our door."

"Tell them it's none of their business," I snapped, then softened at her flinch. "I'm sorry, Lena. Just... tell anyone who asks that it's a personal matter, nothing to worry about."

"Yes, Healer." She hesitated. "He looks terrible, if I'm honest. Like he hasn't slept in days."

"Thank you, Lena. That will be all."

Hours passed. Occasionally, staff members would glance outside and exchange whispers. Their curiosity was palpable, but none dared ask me directly about the strange Alpha who refused to leave.

By mid-afternoon, I found myself standing at the window despite my best intentions, peering through the curtains. Ryan sat exactly where he'd been all day, his head in his hands. Even from this distance, I could see the tension in his shoulders, the defeated slope of his back. Something twisted painfully in my chest before I ruthlessly suppressed it.

"He made his choice," I whispered to myself. "He doesn't get to change his mind."

As evening approached, Mira knocked gently on my door.

"It's almost time to pick up Damian," she reminded me. "And... he's gone now."

Something in me loosened slightly. "Good."

"Diana." Mira stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind her. "What are you going to tell Damian if Ryan comes back? He already met him yesterday."

I busied myself cleaning my workstation. "Nothing. Damian didn't know who he was, and it's going to stay that way."

"He'll ask questions. He's an observant child."

"Then I'll handle it," I said firmly. "Ryan Stewart is nothing to us."

"You don't believe that," Mira said quietly. "And we both know it."

I whirled on her. "What do you want me to say? That I'm going to welcome back the man who sentenced me to death? Who rejected our bond in front of his entire pack? Who left me pregnant and alone to die in a forest?"

"No," she replied calmly. "But I think you need to decide what you're going to do if he keeps coming back. Because he will."

I knew she was right. Ryan's persistence had always been one of his defining traits. Once fixed on a goal, he never gave up.

"I'll deal with tomorrow when it comes," I said finally. "Right now, I just want to pick up my son and go home."

The next morning, I rose early, anxious to get Damian to school before there was any chance of running into Ryan. I watched my son gulp down his breakfast, smiling despite my worry as he recited the properties of healing herbs between bites.

"Wolfsbane is poisonous to everyone, but Silver Sage only hurts werewolves," he explained earnestly, milk dribbling down his chin.

I wiped it away with a napkin. "And what do we use Silver Sage for?"

"Treating humans who get moon-sickness!" he declared triumphantly. "Because it balances their humors without hurting them."

"That's right." I couldn't help the pride that swelled in my chest. "You're getting so smart. You'll be a great healer someday."

"Like you, Mama?" His gray eyes—so like his father's—shone with admiration.

"Maybe even better," I murmured, ruffling his dark hair. "Now finish up. We don't want to be late."

After dropping him off at school, with a reminder to behave for Master Thorn, I headed back home to change before going to the clinic. The morning air was crisp, and I took deep breaths, trying to clear my head. Maybe Ryan was gone. Maybe he'd given up and returned to his pack.

As I approached my front gate, my steps faltered.

There he was again. Standing by my door, looking exhausted. His clothes were the same as yesterday, confirming he'd spent the night somewhere in the village. When he saw me, he straightened.

Fury rose in me like a tide. I marched straight up to him, not stopping until we were face to face.

"How the hell did you find my home?" I demanded, voice vibrating with anger.

Ryan didn't back away. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and stubble darkened his jaw. "One of your clinic staff," he admitted, not a hint of apology in his tone. "The young one. Lena. She took pity on me and gave me directions."

"And you thought this was appropriate?" I hissed, taking a step closer. "Showing up at my house? Stalking me?"

"You wouldn't speak to me at the clinic," he countered, his voice rough with exhaustion but steady. "I'm not leaving until you talk to me, Diana. About Damian. About what happened."

"There's nothing to discuss." I pushed past him to reach my door, fumbling with the key. "You made your choice five years ago. You chose Sarah. You rejected me—rejected our bond—in front of your entire pack."

"It wasn't like that," he insisted, his hand landing on the door next to mine. "You don't know the whole story."

"I know enough!" I whirled on him, fury giving me strength. "You sentenced me to die, Ryan. Do you know what happens during the Severing Ritual? Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

A flash of genuine regret crossed his face, tightening his features. "I thought—"

"You thought I'd be locked away forever," I spat. "You thought I was dead. That was convenient for you, wasn't it?" I finally got my door unlocked and stepped inside. "Stay away from me, Ryan. Stay away from my son!"

I moved to slam the door, but his hand shot out, stopping it. The desperation in his eyes caught me off guard.

"He's my son too, Diana," he said quietly. "I have a right to know him."

"No!" I shouted, pushing harder against the door. "You lost that right when you left me to die! When you chose Sarah over me! When you let them take my wolf!"

"I'm not the man I was then," he insisted, his voice cracking. "The plague has taken almost everything from me. My Beta. My Gamma. Half my pack. When I saw you again—when I saw our son—"

"He is not 'our' son," I hissed, putting all my strength into shoving the door. "He's mine. I raised him alone. I protected him. I was there for every fever, every nightmare, every milestone."

Pain flashed across Ryan's face as he finally removed his hand, letting me close the door. Through the wood, I heard his voice, soft and broken.

"I'm dying, Diana."

My hand froze on the lock, heart stuttering.

"My pack is dying," he continued. "I need your help. But I also... I need to know him. Before it's too late."

I leaned my forehead against the door, squeezing my eyes shut against the tears threatening to spill over. "Go back to your pack, Ryan," I said, hating the tremor in my voice. "They need you more than we do."

I heard no response, only footsteps slowly retreating down the path.

The day passed in a blur of patients and treatments. Every face I saw reminded me of the plague victims in the Blue Moon territory—Ryan's people, dying while I hoarded the cure.

Was I being cruel? Using the plague as revenge against Ryan?