MAEVE'S POV
The words hit me like a sledgehammer. My heart stilled. Pregnant?
"You're incredibly lucky," he continued. "It's a wonder that the baby is still alive and well. Given the gravity of your accident, neither of you should have survived. Some would call this a miracle."
It wasn't a miracle. I knew why I had survived. The goddess had intervened. And just like she had promised, I was six weeks pregnant.
Dr. Gaines continued speaking, unaware of my spiraling thoughts.
"Your surgery was a success. Whenever you're ready, I'll have your discharge papers sorted out." Then his gaze softened. "Do you have a loved one? Someone who can sign off on your release?"
I opened my mouth—then shut it. My fingers twisted nervously in my lap.
"No," I said simply.
I had no one. No one to call. No one to wait for me. No one.
"Really?" He quirked a brow at me. "No one? Not even the father of your unborn child?"
I swallowed hard at the mention of Ivan.
Acknowledging his existence meant acknowledging the inevitable—I'd have to return to the Ash Creek pack. It meant birthing and raising my pup amidst the toxic cruelty of the packhouse.
That was the last thing I wanted.
"There's no one, doctor," I stated firmly, refusing to crumble under his scrutiny. "It's just me."
"That's not true," Devon cut in.
I snapped my head toward him, my brows furrowing.
"What do you mean?"
Devon regarded me for a long moment before turning to address Dr. Gaines.
"Maeve Oakes must have hit her head harder than we originally thought," he said smoothly. "She does have a loved one. It's me."
"What?" I inhaled sharply, unable to contain my shock.
Again, Devon Lockwood ignored me. He only seemed to have eyes for the doctor.
"Whenever she's ready to leave, I'll be more than happy to sign her discharge papers and cover the bills as planned."
"That's wonderful." Dr. Gaines beamed, settling the matter right then and there.
After checking my vitals and adjusting my IV, he left the room, leaving me alone with my self-appointed savior.
I locked eyes with Devon, my irritation evident.
"You didn't have to do that," I muttered. "I hate owing people."
He smiled at that, amused.
"You don't owe me anything, Maeve. But if it makes you feel better, consider it payment for me running you over with my car."
I exhaled sharply. "So, we're even then?"
"Hardly." His smirk deepened, his gaze twinkling with amusement. "I don't know why, but I feel this… pull toward you. A natural inclination to help you. To take care of you."
"Why?" I scoffed. "That doesn't make any sense. You've only known me for barely a day. And the entire time, I was unconscious."
He snorted—a low, amused sound.
"Not the entire time. I'm talking to you now, aren't I?" His expression softened. "And I can tell you need help. You're pregnant, and you have nowhere to go."
"I'll figure something out," I countered stubbornly.
"I don't doubt that for a second." His tone was reassuring. "You're strong, Maeve. I can sense it. You have a survivor's will."
I narrowed my eyes. "And how exactly can you sense that?"
Devon leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to something quieter.
"I think you already know, cara'nia."
I sucked in a sharp breath. The meaning of his words sent a jolt through me.
Cara'nia. A term of endearment among werewolves. A word only mates used for each other.
If Devon knew that word, then—
"You're a werewolf," I said carefully, trying to mask the way my pulse had spiked.
His lips curled into a smirk.
"An Alpha," he corrected, amusement flickering in his eyes as he took in my stunned reaction.
An Alpha.
I forced myself to steady my breathing.
"If you're an Alpha, then you know I've run away from my pack," I said slowly, my voice edged with caution. "I don't plan on going back. I intend to start fresh—far away from everything I've ever known. It's the right thing to do. For me. For my baby."
Instinctively, I pressed a protective hand over my stomach. Even now, I could hardly believe it. It was just like the Moon Goddess had told me.
Asha. Already, I loved him fiercely—more than I had ever loved anyone.
Silently, I vowed to protect him. To raise him with all the love I had been denied my entire life.
Starting fresh would be hard. But I would do it. We would be okay.
"I know you've run away," Devon interrupted my thoughts. "And judging by how fiercely you denied having a loved one, I'd wager you weren't treated very well in your old pack."
"You don't miss a thing, do you?" I mumbled, not bothering to hide my irritation.
He ignored my sarcasm.
"I have a pack, Maeve." His voice was calm, soft. "A lot of rogues live there—werewolves who understand what it's like to be outcasts."
I tensed as he continued.
"What I'm saying is that Dark Wind Pack could be a place where you'd be accepted. Protected. A safe haven for your child."
I stared at him, my throat tight.
"You're serious?" I exhaled sharply. "How can you just invite me into your home like that? I know you feel guilty about hitting me with your car, but let's be real—you don't know me. I could be a lunatic. A vindictive maniac, cursed to bring war to your doorstep." My voice was rising now. "Do you still want to take me in?"
I expected him to hesitate. To backtrack. To look at me like I had completely lost my mind. But instead—
Laughter. Deep, throaty, genuine laughter.
The sound caught me off guard. It rumbled through the air, transforming his face in an instant. And for just a second, all I could think about was how damn handsome he was.
"You're surprisingly funny," he chuckled. "It's good to know I won't be bored with you in my household."
"I haven't agreed to anything."
"But you will." He seemed certain. "Deep down, you know joining my household is the best decision you could make right now."
He winked at me.
Devon Lockwood wasn't just my savior, sent to rescue me and my unborn son from ruin. He was also surprisingly easy to talk to.
And now, he was offering me something I never thought I could have; a new life. A pack full of outcasts. Just like me.
Tempting as it was, it still felt too good to be true. Was this the Moon Goddess's doing?
Was this her way of ensuring that Asha survived? That he lived long enough to fulfill his destiny?
I swallowed hard.
"The truth is," I began hesitantly, "when I ran away from my pack, I never imagined any of this happening—let alone in less than twenty-four hours. Meeting you. Joining your household. It's all… happening so fast."
Devon studied me for a moment before offering a small, reassuring smile.
"We may not know much about each other right now, Maeve," he admitted, "but I know we're going to be just fine together. And if all else fails, well—" his lips curved in amusement— "at least we'll always have your humor."
A conspiratorial smile tugged at his mouth. And just like that, I felt my resolve begin to crack.
I thought about a packhouse as warm as Devon's smile. A home where my son could be safe. Where he would be loved. Cherished.
The thought of Asha growing up in a place like that… it was the final push I needed.
Everything moved quickly after that. Devon Lockwood signed my discharge papers.
A few hours later, I was belted into the front seat of his car, leaving my past behind. Heading toward Dark Wind Pack.
My new home.