Chapter 257: The Waiting Room

Vivian’s POV

The final family I visited during my rounds had suffered an unimaginable loss. They had lost a son, a mate, a brother, and a father all at the exact same time during the brutal attack, their lives extinguished in a single terrible night. The grieving mother had sat there in total shock, tightly cradling a plaid shirt that still carried the lingering scent of her loved ones. Her heavy grief had stuck to me like fine ash settling on skin. Her burning anger had lingered too, echoing heavily inside my chest. Not everyone processed trauma or lashed out in the exact same way, but pain had a terrible, suffocating way of clinging to the air, thick and inescapable.

I sensed him standing near me before I actually saw him just a brief flicker of movement in the corner of my vision. But I did not speak right away. I forced a long, steady breath in through my nose, holding it for a second, and then slowly exhaled through my mouth. My eyes remained closed as I tried to carefully fold away my overwhelming emotions so I could breathe. The harsh hospital lights were way too bright anyway.

You want to be in heaven right now, do you not? my inner wolf mumbled lazily, barely lifting her head from her imaginary paws. She was curled up deep inside my mind, feeling worn thin by the day’s heavy events.

"You are a lot more compassionate than I originally realized," came a quiet voice right beside me. The tone was calm, genuinely curious. I did not open my eyes yet.

"Most people just remember my sharp sarcasm and leave it at that," I replied lightly, keeping my voice low and steady. Then I finally opened my eyes and looked over at him. "But your brother... he is compassionate too, in his own way."

Emphasis on the word ’passionate,’ honey, my wolf added with a dry, teasing mental snort.

Joshula gave a soft, disbelieving chuckle at my words. "If you say so. I have always known him to be... reckless. Careless, even, when it comes to the basic needs of other people."

I let out a soft snort of amusement. "Oh, he definitely used to be. Trust me on that. I was right there in the thick of it during his entire punch-first, ask-questions-never phase."

I shook my head slowly at the crazy memories, genuinely amazed that I could recall those terrifying moments now without feeling an overwhelming desire to strangle him. Ah, personal growth, I supposed.

"Forgive me for asking something so personal," Joshula said cautiously, turning his head toward me, "but how on earth did the two of you actually meet?"

A loud, surprised laugh bubbled right up out of my throat before I could even stop it. It was a full, unexpected sound that immediately earned me a raised, questioning eyebrow from him.

Once I finally calmed my giggles down, I grinned broadly. "Oh, that particular story? You better buckle up for this one."

"His Beta kidnapped me in the middle of the night, and I woke up with Zahliver physically sitting on top of me," I said flatly, keeping my expression completely serious.

The words came out a lot harsher and more direct than I had originally intended, but it was the absolute truth, and I figured brutal honesty would be a lot more productive than sugarcoating a bizarre kidnapping. Joshula looked as if I had just slapped him hard across the face. That was definitely not the romantic fairy tale answer he had been expecting to hear.

"So yeah," I continued, folding my arms neatly over my chest, "believe me when I tell you that I know firsthand what Zahliver used to be like. But also believe me when I tell you... he is simply not that terrifying man anymore."

Saying those words out loud filled me with a sudden, unexpected wave of pride. Not just pride in him, but pride in myself as well. It meant that real, tangible change had actually happened. Positive change for both of us.

Joshula slowly leaned his back against the cold hospital wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest in a defensive posture. His eyes closed briefly, and for a split second just a tiny flicker of a moment he looked so much like a younger version of Zahliver that it almost hurt my chest to look at him. That strange mix of identical resemblance and emotional distance made a sudden pang of guilt tug at my heart.

"I am sorry about how today turned out," I said softly, breaking the quiet. "I am pretty sure this was not how you pictured your first proper day back going."

His eyes snapped open. They were not the same piercing, electric blue I had expected to see they were green. Deep, forest-green eyes.

"It is alright," he said, his voice remaining calm and steady. "War always brings heavy casualties... and a lot of pain. I understand that better than most people do." Then his lips twitched into a faint, amused smile, and he added, "Besides, today has not been a total waste of time. I actually learned a few interesting things."

I gave him a thoroughly skeptical look. "Oh, really? And what did you learn today? How to locate every single hand sanitizer dispenser in the building? Because I swear on the moon we must have passed at least fifty of them."

He let out a short, genuine laugh and leaned in a little closer, his green eyes fixed intently on mine. "No. I learned a lot more about you. The kind of person you truly are."

That statement instantly piqued my interest. "Alright then, hit me with it. What kind of person am I, according to your expert analysis?"

"You are funny," he said simply, ticking the points off in his head. "Quick-tempered when pushed. The way you carry yourself tells me you are not really a fighter at least not in the physical, brawling sense. You care deeply about people around you, even when you try your hardest not to show the full extent of that soft heart. And, like I said before... you are deeply compassionate."

His gaze never once wavered as he spoke those words, as if he was carefully analyzing every single flicker of emotion crossing my face.

I smiled slightly, feeling partly amused and partly quite impressed. He was not completely off the mark with his guesses, but still...

"Really, is that it?" I tilted my head sideways.

"Yes."

"Interesting take," I smirked a little. "Do you want to hear what I have managed to figure out about you so far?"

He blinked in genuine surprise. "Go right ahead."

I leaned forward in my seat, resting both of my elbows heavily on my knees. It probably made me look a bit like a tired gargoyle resting on a cathedral roof, but I could not care less at this point. I was running entirely on fumes, and if someone offered to wheel me out of this sterile building on a hospital bed right now, I would accept it with zero shame.

"You keep a very safe distance from people," I said quietly, watching him closely. "You watch them from afar, study their habits, and memorize their behavior. You are polite charming, even but I get this strong feeling that you always say exactly what people want or expect to hear. You hold a whole lot back inside yourself. And you are smart, sharp in a quiet, calculated way. You were definitely trained in something very serious. But there is... something missing inside you. Like there is a permanent hole in your life that you are always aware of, but you just cannot quite figure out how to fill it."

I opened my eyes fully and looked right at him. He was staring straight back at me, looking completely and utterly thrown off balance. For once, the calm, polite mask he usually wore slipped completely away, and what I saw underneath was pure vulnerability. It was as if I had managed to see right through his heavy armor without his permission.

He sat totally frozen in place. "How did you "

"Years of school and dealing with difficult people," I said smoothly with a casual shrug of my shoulders. "You get really good at reading people over time. Not just who they pretend to be on the surface, but who they actually are underneath. Especially when you spend your life looking for ways to cheat on a difficult test or copy someone else’s notes to survive."

I tried my best to lighten the heavy mood with a small smile, but he did not return it. Not even a tiny twitch of his lips touched his face.

Later on that evening, when our pack guards finally dropped us off safely back at the grand house, I expected at least some polite small talk or a awkward goodbye before we all split up for the night. But Joshula simply muttered something unintelligible about going to his room, turned sharply on his heel, and disappeared down the long hallway. His bedroom door slammed shut behind him hard enough to rattle the entire doorframe.

I stood there in the entryway, staring blankly at the empty hallway after him.

What a strange guy.