Caesar’s POV

The sterile hospital corridor felt too narrow, too suffocating as I watched Sylvia’s slender frame tremble with anxiety. Her typically confident posture had crumbled, replaced by something fragile that awakened every protective instinct within my wolf.

"Doctor, how is my mother doing?" Sylvia’s voice wavered as she addressed the physician, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles whitened.

The doctor adjusted his glasses, his expression professional but kind. "Nothing too serious, but she needs to avoid emotional distress and get proper rest. Another collapse would require hospitalization."

"Emotional distress..." Sylvia repeated those words softly, guilt washing over her beautiful features.

"It’s my fault," she whispered, her voice breaking. "It’s all my fault. Mother wouldn’t be in this condition if it weren’t for me."

My chest tightened watching tears gather in her eyes. The fierce, determined Sylvia I’d grown to admire was dissolving before me, replaced by a woman drowning in remorse. I wanted nothing more than to destroy anything—or anyone—who had caused her this pain, but the bitter irony was that her greatest enemy in this moment was herself.

"Sivi," I lowered my voice, using the nickname that felt surprisingly natural on my tongue. "This isn’t your fault. I know you didn’t mean any harm. You never intended for this to happen, right?"

She didn’t respond to my words, lost in her own emotional turmoil. Her gaze remained fixed through the glass panel of the hospital door, locked on Alpha Astra’s still form lying in the bed. The powerful matriarch who had ruled the Frostfang Pack with an iron will now looked small and vulnerable against the stark white sheets.

The redness rimming her eyes made my wolf pace anxiously within me. When words failed, I reached for her hand, entwining our fingers firmly. Sometimes touch conveyed what words couldn’t—that she wasn’t alone, that I wouldn’t leave her to face this by herself.

Sylvia seemed to draw strength from the contact, turning toward me with gratitude softening her features. "Thank you. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine."

"This is just a small setback," she continued with forced brightness that didn’t reach her eyes. "I’m just concerned and worried about my mother."

Seeing the hint of a smile return to her lips lightened something inside me. My wolf settled slightly, pleased to have provided comfort.

"Don’t worry," I reassured her, my thumb tracing gentle circles against her palm. "Your mother is strong—she’ll pull through. We’ll take better care of her going forward."

She nodded, allowing me to draw her against my chest in a protective embrace. The way she fit perfectly against me felt right in a way I couldn’t fully articulate. My wolf rumbled with satisfaction as her scent—vanilla and wildflowers—enveloped me, confirming what I’d known since first seeing her: she was mine. My mate. My future Luna.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Noah’s expression darkening. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable as he watched us together. Good. Let him see exactly what he could never have. My arms tightened around Sylvia instinctively.

Noah took several deep breaths before plastering on a plastic smile. "You two might want to remember we’re still in a hospital," he said with forced lightness. "Perhaps show a little decorum?"

His words dripped with jealousy poorly disguised as concern for propriety. My wolf wanted to snarl at the thinly veiled challenge, but I maintained my composure.

Sylvia pulled back slightly, her cheeks flushing. "I’m sorry. You’re right—this isn’t appropriate." She glanced up at me apologetically. "I’ll talk to him about it."

I knew exactly what Noah was doing. His words might sound reasonable, but his motives were transparent. Men like us recognized the game—he wanted what was mine and was using any tactic available to create distance between us. The fact that Sylvia couldn’t see through his "concerned friend" act only irritated me further.

My eyes narrowed as I studied him. Perhaps I needed to be more present in Sylvia’s life—there were clearly too many wolves circling what belonged to me. I clenched my fist, keeping my expression neutral when facing Sylvia. For her, I would always be patient and gentle. But the moment my gaze shifted to Noah, I let my mask slip, allowing the cold challenge of an Alpha to show through. The message was clear: Back off.

The tension between us was interrupted by approaching footsteps. Beta James appeared, his weathered face lined with concern. Despite his formal position as Alpha Astra’s second-in-command, the genuine worry in his eyes revealed his personal investment in the family.

"Sylvia," he greeted her warmly, before nodding respectfully to me and Noah. "I’ve spoken with the doctors. Your mother is stable, but they’ve emphasized that she cannot experience any more emotional distress. Her heart can’t handle it."

James placed a comforting hand on Sylvia’s shoulder. "The doctor believes she’ll make a full recovery, but only if she remains calm and well-rested."

"This is all my fault," Sylvia whispered again, her shoulders slumping.

"No," James shook his head firmly. "This situation has been building for years. The tension between you two, Selene’s manipulations, pack politics—it all contributed."

"But our fight—"

"Was just the final straw," James interrupted gently. "Listen to me, Sylvia. I’ve known both you and your mother all your life. The blood bond between mother and daughter doesn’t break easily, especially in our kind. Alpha lineages carry stronger connections than most."

His eyes softened. "You two just need to talk—really talk, without the interference of others. Your mother loves you, even if she’s struggled to show it properly."

Something in James’s words seemed to reach Sylvia where mine couldn’t. She suddenly threw her arms around the older wolf, embracing him tightly.

"Thank you, Uncle James," she whispered, using the affectionate title she’d given him as a child. "Thank you for believing in us."

Watching them, I was struck by the complex web of relationships surrounding Sylvia. This wasn’t just about winning her heart—it was about understanding and navigating the pack dynamics that had shaped her. If I wanted to truly claim her as mine, I needed to appreciate these connections rather than dismiss them.

Still, my wolf bristled at Noah’s presence, at the way his gaze followed Sylvia’s every movement. I wouldn’t underestimate him. Men didn’t look at women that way unless they intended to pursue them.

I moved closer to Sylvia again, placing my hand at the small of her back. "Let’s go in."