Chapter Thirty-Four

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   Tick, tock, tick, tock.

   The clock on the wall went around and round.

   Seconds bled into minutes. Minutes bled into hours. Hours bled into days. Days bled into weeks.

   Still, Madeline did not wake up.

   She lay on that bed, her skin pale, as if all the color had been drained out of her. The only thing that kept Emerson going was the steady beep of her heart. She was alive, his unborn child was healthy.

   They told him she was recovering, that she would wake up when she was ready. But that had been weeks ago and she still had not woken up.

   Alpha Ronan had left to go tend to his Pack. Sebastian came and went. Madeline's father and mother had made a temporary home in the Alpha Wing. He didn't care. He was never there anyways. He was always by his mate's side, letting his Gamma, now Beta, run the Pack.

   Brandon had lost his life during the last battle. When he had heard, he had shifted and ran to the woods, mourning. He didn't return until two days later. He spoke to no one, just returned to Madeline's side.

   And there he had stayed. He never spoke, never slept, rarely ate or drank water. He hadn't showered in days and his clothes were wrinkled.

   Emerson leaned forward and gently slid his hand into hers. His thumb caressed the back of her hand. He placed his other hand on her belly, where the small bump had formed. His child.

   He had only seen his baby once, in a sonogram. They had asked if he wanted to know the gender of the baby but he shook his head. He would wait for his mate. If she wanted to know then he wanted to know. So he would wait until she woke up. He would wait for her.

   There was a knock at the door before it opened. The doctor had returned to run her daily tests, to ensure that everything was running smoothly and that there were no problems with the Luna or the heir. When she was satisfied, she told him there were no knew changes, though she was almost healed.

   Her wounds had been doused in wolfsbane, the reason being why it took her wounds so long to heal. At first, they were worried that it would have harmed the baby, but after extensive observation, they learned the baby was unharmed.

   Emerson's wounds had healed within the first week, not that he noticed. He didn't notice a lot of things. He rarely noticed when someone entered the room, much less what they said. He only picked up what the doctors said about his mate. Anything else he tuned out. He didn't want to hear it. he didn't want to hear how it was going to be okay and how Madeline was going to wake up. He didn't want to hear how he needed to resume his Alpha duties and help care for the Pack. His mate came first. He would do nothing without her by his side. He would do nothing until she woke up and was healed. He needed her.

   He looked at her pale face. What used to be a bright face, not was while and sunken. Her once wonderful curves were now skin and bones. Her once smooth skin was now littered in scars, a reminder of his failure.

   When she woke up, he wouldn't blame her if she hated him. He deserved her hatred. He deserved to be banished from the Pack he worked so hard on. He deserved what ever foul things were coming his way.

   He let go of mate and leaned back in his chair, leaning his head against the wall. his eyes closed and he let out a sigh. What he wouldn't do to take everything back. He would go to the end of the world just to reverse time. He would've gotten home sooner, saved her, made sure she had never suffered the way she did. If only he could, but he couldn't.

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