The Human Luna

Chapter Six - A Father’s Silence, An Alpha’s Vow

“I’ve healed what I could, Thomas,” she began, her voice steady but weighted. “But you need to know the extent of her injuries. She broke nine ribs, fractured both legs, and suffered a severe concussion. Her spine was cracked — I’ve sealed it, but recovery will take time and effort. She is strong, but… even I’m surprised she’s alive. With wounds like these, most humans wouldn’t have survived the night. We’ve placed her in a coma, to give her body the best chance to heal itself. Now, we pray to the Moon Goddess that she wakes.”

Her words carved into me like blades. A chance she might not wake up? A chance I may never see those sky-blue eyes again, never hear that angelic voice, never watch her carry the pups the Goddess destined for us. My fists curled so tightly I felt my claws threaten to break skin, anger and grief tangling inside me until I could hardly breathe.

Stefan’s arms wrapped suddenly around me, pulling me into a clumsy embrace. He was no touchy-feely man, and that only made it more disarming. For a second I almost shoved him off, but then I sagged against him, because if I didn’t, I might shatter completely.

“You can see her now, Alpha,” Doctor Bane said softly. “Stay with her. Let her feel your bond. Even your touch will help — your healing will flow to her if you hold her hand. Come, I’ll take you.”

I rose slowly, my body heavy as stone, as though the weight of an entire pack had been set on my shoulders. The walk down the corridor wasn’t long — I’d walked it countless times before — but tonight it stretched into eternity. Each step dragged me further into dread, and yet, each step brought me closer to her.

Doctor Bane kept glancing over her shoulder as we walked, as though checking to see if I would collapse under the weight pressing down on me. By the time we reached the Alpha suite, my chest felt like it had been crushed inwards. This was the last place I ever wanted to be again after all of this was over.

The first thing I saw was the monitor — the green blip of her heartbeat, steady and strong, a fragile rhythm that tethered me to sanity. Next, the oxygen tubing looped beneath her nose, hissing quietly with each breath. An IV dripped into her hand, feeding her body the strength it couldn’t take for itself. But none of that stopped my gaze from finding her.

Her light blonde hair was stained with blood where she had hit her head, strands matted against her pale skin. Her face looked almost lifeless, drained of colour — and still, she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. There was a peace about her that shattered me, because it wasn’t the peace of sleep, it was the stillness of survival balanced on a knife’s edge.

I froze in the doorway. I couldn’t rush to her. I had no right. She was my mate, yes — but to her, I was no one. She was human. She couldn’t feel the bond like I did. She couldn’t know how one brush of her hand could drive me to madness. And how could I deserve her, when I was the reason she lay broken here? The rogues had been after me. When they failed, they came for her. Somehow, they knew who she was. Somehow, they knew she mattered. My chest tightened as I admitted the truth: if she survives this, I will protect her until the day I die.

“You can come in, Alpha,” Doctor Bane said gently, motioning me closer.

I didn’t move. My body felt rooted to the ground, shackled by guilt.

“Alpha, she needs your strength if she’s going to recover. Now come.”

Before I could protest, Doctor Bane caught my hand and tugged me forward, pulling me to Shannon’s side. My breath hitched as I reached down, brushing a blood-stained strand of hair away from her closed eyes. My fingertips traced the delicate curve of her cheek, then hovered over her lips — soft, perfect, untouchable. I bent down, pressing my mouth to her forehead, sealing my silent vow: I will protect you, no matter what. No matter the cost.

Time lost its meaning after that. Days blurred into each other, each hour stretching into eternity. I never left her side, except to use the bathroom in the adjoining room. Her father came every day, her sisters too, and each of them carried guilt in their eyes, convinced it was their fault she wasn’t safe. But it wasn’t theirs to bear — and yet, it wasn’t mine either. I hadn’t chosen this life. I hadn’t chosen to have a mate. Fate had forced it on me.

All I could do now was wait. Wait for her to open those sky-blue eyes. Wait for her to hear the truth. And then pray, with everything in me, that she would choose me — so that we could build a life together, the one I had dreamed of for six long years.

-

“Alpha,” Doctor Bane said gently, “we’re going to begin easing her medication tonight. The goal is to let her body wake naturally. It will take about twenty-four hours for the sedatives to fully leave her system, but she may stir before then. You should go home, shower, eat. You’ll scare the poor girl to death if the first thing she sees is you looking like this.”

For the first time in days, something inside me flickered—hope. The idea of her opening those sky-blue eyes again, of hearing her voice, even if it was just a whisper… it lit me up from the inside. I glanced back at her, and sure enough, her cheeks were touched with more colour than before. She didn’t look so fragile now, not like glass about to shatter. Stronger. More alive. They’d taken her for scans and x-rays earlier, and even the doctors had been surprised at how fast she was healing. Part of me knew it was the bond, the way I’d been pouring my strength into her every time I held her hand. But most of me believed it was simply her. Shannon. The strongest woman I had ever known—even without being awake to prove it.

I left her room with a strange kind of energy, almost light-headed. My legs carried me faster than I meant to, almost skipping through the pack house corridors. For the first time in days, I wasn’t weighed down by guilt or grief. Instead, I was buzzing, eager, restless. If she was truly on the edge of waking, then I needed to be ready for her. Presentable. Calm. Not the half-broken mess I’d been these last two weeks.

By the time I reached my own rooms, I stripped quickly, letting the hot shower wash away the grime, the blood, the exhaustion clinging to me. The water couldn’t erase the scars of what had happened, but at least it peeled away the filth. I pulled on a simple pair of joggers and a loose t-shirt, leaving my hair damp and free around my shoulders.

Downstairs, the smell of food hit me, grounding me further. I hadn’t eaten properly in days, and my stomach growled in protest as I grabbed a plate, but my thoughts were already drifting back to her. I filled another tray too, this one for David. He’d been at Shannon’s side as much as he could, splitting himself between his broken daughter and the two girls still needing him at home. I couldn’t imagine how this was tearing him apart—how helpless he must feel. It made me ache in ways even battle never had.

Balancing the trays carefully, I made my way back through the corridors until I reached the Alpha suite. The weight of food in my hands felt almost absurd compared to the weight pressing on my chest. When I pushed the door open, David was already there, sitting stiffly in the chair by Shannon’s bed. His hand was wrapped gently around hers, his thumb moving back and forth as if the small motion could tether her to this world. His eyes flicked up at the sound of me entering, red-rimmed, tired beyond words.

“I brought you something,” I said quietly, setting the tray down on the table beside him.

David gave me a small nod of thanks, but he didn’t touch the food. His gaze lingered on Shannon instead, his jaw tightening, the silence stretching until he finally spoke.

“I should’ve been here.” His voice was raw, splintered. “Instead, I ran to the pack when the alarm was raised. I chose the fight over my daughter. I told myself I was protecting her by protecting everyone else, but… gods, Thomas. She was alone. And now look at her.” His hand shook as he brushed a strand of blonde hair from her pale face. “This—this is on me.”

The words cut deep because they echoed the storm raging inside me. I lowered myself into the chair opposite him, gripping my knees to stop my hands from trembling.

“You’re not the only one who feels that way,” I admitted. “I was meant to protect her. It’s my fault the rogues came after her in the first place. If she… if she doesn’t wake up, that’s on me.”

David finally looked at me, his eyes dark and hollow with grief. “No. It’s worse for me. I’m her father. I was meant to keep her safe from the moment she was born. And when she needed me most, I wasn’t there. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

My throat closed. I couldn’t tell him that I felt the same, that the guilt was eating me alive. Instead, I reached forward, resting my hand lightly over Shannon’s free one. The bond sparked faintly at the contact, that familiar pull anchoring me, reminding me she was still here, still fighting.

“She’s stronger than both of us,” I said hoarsely. “She’ll wake. She has to.”

David didn’t answer, but his shoulders sagged as though the weight of his failure was crushing him. He pressed his lips to his daughter’s knuckles, whispering words that I’m sure he wanted only her to hear.

Only… I heard them. My hearing was too sharp not to.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” his voice cracked against her skin. “If you don’t wake up, I’ll never forgive myself. I should’ve been there. I should’ve chosen you.”

The words hit me like a blade, because they echoed everything I’d been telling myself. That it was my fault. That I hadn’t chosen her either, not the way I should have.

I looked at Shannon’s pale face, the faint rise and fall of her chest, and all I could think was - please wake up, if not for me, then for him.

Finally, back at her side, I vowed I wouldn’t leave again. Not until she woke. I wanted to be the first thing she saw when her eyes opened — and the first thing she heard to be my declaration of love. Nothing else would do.

When the nurses removed her drip, my chest tightened with anticipation. This was it. The moment I’d been waiting for. I laced my fingers through hers and gave her hand a gentle squeeze, praying she would feel the sparks the bond created between us — the same electricity that set my entire body on fire every time I touched her. In my head, I could picture it perfectly: her eyes fluttering open, recognition dawning, her body rushing into my arms where she belonged. I knew it was foolish, unrealistic even, but a man can hope.

Sleep eventually claimed me in the chair at her bedside, but I jolted awake with a racing heart, instantly checking her for any sign of movement. Nothing. Her chest rose and fell with steady breaths, her face still so pale against the sheets. I glanced at the clock — nearly 11 a.m. Fifteen hours since they had stopped the drip.

It shouldn’t take this long… should it?

Doctor Bane had warned me it could take up to twenty-four hours, but every second stretched into eternity. It felt like torture, sitting here helpless while her body fought a battle I couldn’t see.

“I want mate.” Atticus’s growl rolled through my mind, raw and hungry, the first thing he’d said in hours. His longing bled into mine until I could barely breathe. I know, I thought back bitterly. You think I don’t?

I splashed water over my face, bracing myself against the sink as I looked up into the mirror. The man staring back at me didn’t look like an Alpha — not the one my pack saw anyway. My eyes were bloodshot, the skin beneath them shadowed and bruised from days without proper sleep. My hair, usually neat and ordered, had dried into an untamed mess from the shower I’d taken in a rush the night before. I looked… tired. More than that. I looked defeated.

I raked my hands through my hair, frustrated, but it only made it worse — wild strands sticking out in every direction. If Shannon woke and saw me like this, I’d look less like the man destined to protect her and more like the man failing her.

The thought gnawed at me as I left the bathroom and stormed into the hall, searching for Doctor Bane. Room after room came up empty, my chest tightening with every step. When I finally shoved open the staff room door, I found her assistant — Hilary, if memory served — sitting with a cluster of nurses. They scrambled to their feet instantly, bowing their heads, but I barely registered the gesture.

“Where is Doctor Bane?” The question came out a growl, raw and jagged.

Hilary stepped forward quickly, her hand brushing my arm, herding me out into the corridor like I might shatter the room if I stayed. Her voice was calm, but I could hear the care in it, the caution.