The waiting room was thick with tension. The brothers sat in tight formation, every jaw clenched, every eye sharp. Beth, Arden, and Nyra hovered close, anxiety written across their faces, fingers fidgeting, exchanging uneasy glances. Four hours of pacing, watching, waiting—it had stretched into an eternity.
Finally, Havers appeared, his expression grim. He cleared his throat, and the room went deathly silent.
"She's alive," he said, voice steady but heavy, "but... it's not good."
All eyes snapped to him, breath catching.
"I don't expect her to make it through the night," Havers continued, carefully choosing his words. "Her injuries... the blood loss, the trauma... we've done everything possible here. For a human, there's... not much more we can do. And even with every intervention, the odds are... slim."
V stiffened in his chair, jaw tight, fists clenched so hard that his knuckles were white. The others—Wrath, Z, Phury, Rhage, Butch—shared his tension, silent but vibrating with barely contained fury and helplessness.
Havers held up a hand. "I'm giving you permission to see her. I can't promise anything, but... you should be there. She'll need... you, in whatever time she has left."
V didn't hesitate. The moment the words left Havers' mouth, he was on his feet, moving with that terrifying, coiled energy, every step measured but impossible to block. His eyes were hard, blazing, as he stalked past the others, ignoring Wrath's warning glance and the collective tension radiating from his brothers.
Beth, Arden, and Nyra rose as well, exchanging a look of worried concern. They knew V—knew how much he needed this, how dangerous it was to let his fury and desperation mix.
Wrath's voice was low but commanding: "V—control yourself. Just... see her. That's it. No heroics."
V didn't respond, just nodded once, sharp, almost imperceptible, before vanishing down the corridor toward the ICU wing where Kat was being held. Every step he took left a palpable ripple of dread and anticipation in the air, and the waiting room, filled with humans and brothers alike, seemed to shrink under the weight of his silent, unstoppable storm.
Havers gave the group a last, grim look before he followed slowly, ensuring V didn't unleash the full force of his anger on the hallways. "Virgin help her," he muttered under his breath.
The room held its collective breath, knowing that whatever happened next would change everything.
V's steps slowed as he entered the ICU room, every inch of him coiled tight with barely restrained fury and anguish. And then he saw her.
Kat lay there, her body battered, bandages wrapped around limbs and torso, multiple IVs feeding her precious blood and fluids. Even stitched back together, even alive, she looked like she had been run through a grinder and left for dead. His chest tightened so painfully that his breath caught in his throat.
Without thinking, without hesitation, V fell to his knees beside her bed. His hands hovered over her, tense and trembling, fingers brushing a lock of damp hair from her forehead.
He had sworn countless oaths, built a fortress of control around himself, but now—seeing her like this—the walls shattered.
"I... I need you," he whispered under his breath, voice rough, cracking. "Please... Mother... Scribe Virgin... save her. Please."
The words were alien on his tongue. A prayer. Something he had vowed never to utter. But the raw, desperate need to keep her alive, to claw her back from the edge, pushed him past pride, past restraint.
His eyes burned as he watched her chest rise and fall, tiny, fragile movements that carried all the weight of his world. He pressed his forehead to the cold edge of her hospital bed, letting a single, uncharacteristic tear escape down his cheek.
"I don't know how to do this," he muttered, voice tight, almost a growl. "I... can't... can't lose you. Not like this. Not ever."
Around him, the machines beeped steadily, the sterile air carrying the scent of antiseptic and blood, but in that moment, nothing else existed. Just him. Just Kat. Just the impossible hope that the mother he barely remembered, the Scribe Virgin, might answer a prayer he had never thought he'd speak.
The air in the room seemed to shift, almost imperceptibly, a whisper of power brushing against the edges of reality. V didn't notice until a figure stepped into the dim light, radiating calm authority, the scent of incense and something faintly metallic lingering in her wake.
"Vishous," she said, her voice soft but carrying the weight of eons, "I... hear your plea."
He rose instantly, shaking, voice hoarse. "Virgin... please. I—I can't lose her. Not like this. Not her. You have to save her!"
Her eyes, luminous and sorrowful, softened as she took in the devastation in his gaze, the raw desperation that broke through every wall he'd built. "I swore never to interfere in the life of a human," she said gently, almost regretfully. "They belong to the natural order."
V dropped to his knees again, hands clutching hers, eyes blazing with an intensity that could split stone. "Mother! I am begging you—as your son—don't let her die. She's—she's... everything to me. You have to save her."
For a long moment, she studied him. The sorrow in her gaze cut through him, a blade sharper than any he had ever felt. His anguish, his vulnerability, his love—all of it laid bare.
Finally, she exhaled, a sound that seemed to ripple through the sterile air. "Very well. I will save her."
V's relief threatened to shatter him entirely, but her next words stopped him cold.
"But know this," she said, her tone firm and unyielding. "This gift comes at a cost. She will live—and she will never be mortal again. Immortality will flow through her veins, but she will never bear your child. Nothing in this world is free, Vishous. Remember that."
V's lips pressed together, his jaw clenched, and yet he nodded, unable to voice the gratitude and fear that warred inside him.
The light around her shifted, warm and fierce, a golden glow enveloping Kat's broken form. V watched, barely breathing, as the bandages seemed to knit themselves tighter, the bruises fading, her pulse strengthening. Her chest rose and fell steadily, every labored breath a testament to her survival.
And then it was done. She stirred, blinking slowly, eyes fluttering open, alive—and forever changed. V's hands trembled as he brushed a strand of hair from her face, leaning close but careful not to overwhelm her.
"She's... she's yours now," his mother whispered, almost to herself, a shadow of sorrow in her eyes. "But remember, Vishous... everything has a price."
V swallowed hard, his chest tight, every ounce of relief and love and raw, unfiltered possessiveness mixing into a single, fierce emotion. "I know," he whispered, voice breaking. "I'll protect her... I'll protect her no matter what."
Kat's gaze met his, weak but defiant, unaware of the full weight of what had just been done—but in that moment, alive and breathing, it was enough.
And V, kneeling beside her, allowed himself a moment of surrender, silent and broken and utterly devoted, knowing the world would never be the same again
