Chapter 28

Logan

The scent of antiseptic clung to the canvas walls of the healer's tent and the noise of the healing soldier filled the space endlessly, but it was Evelyn’s presence that grounded me.

She sat quietly beside me when she was not out healing others, tending to me among other people, and always returning to me, even if few words were exchanged.

As she sat beside me, her hands were steady, her face focused, but something was off. I’d seen her like this in the heat of battle—calm, competent, impenetrable—but right now, there was something in her eyes that tugged at me.

It wasn’t worry.

It wasn’t anger, either.

It was… recognition.

Like she was staring through me. Past me. At something only she could see.

I frowned. “What is it?”

Evelyn blinked quickly, as if shaking herself from a trance. “Nothing. I’m prescribing you one more nap before we let you go,” she said softly.

“Resting like this feels like admitting I might be mortal,” I muttered.

She chuckled under her breath. “You’re lucky to be alive. A few inches over, and that rogue might’ve punctured something important.”

“Some would argue that all of me is important.”

She rolled her eyes. “Still, you’re lucky. But your promised day of rest is almost up. You’ll be able to get up soon. But you’ll be extremely sore.”

I looked at her then—really looked at her.

Hair pulled back, a few strands falling loose around her face. Dark smudges of exhaustion under her eyes. Blood staining her sleeves. She looked like hell. But she still took the time to heal every single warrior that came through this tent.

“You did well out there,” I told her. “Helping everyone. Many more would be dead without you.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “It wasn’t enough.”

“What do you mean?”

Evelyn leaned back slightly, folding her hands in her lap. “It never feels like enough. These people… your people… I’m not sure they’ll ever see me as one of them.”

The way she said your people made my stomach turn.

“They’re your people too,” I said.

She shook her head. “No. I’m the outsider who doesn’t belong. I’m the foreigner they whisper about. The one who doesn’t even have the favor of their Alpha.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but just then the flap of the tent rustled.

Emma stepped in.

Her heels clicked softly against the wood slats as she approached, her expression somewhere between concern and territorial pride. She barely acknowledged Evelyn before turning to me with a sickly sweet smile.

“Logan,” she said gently, “I heard you were injured. I came as soon as I could.”

It had been days since I had been shot.

Evelyn stood immediately, her shoulders tensing.

Emma’s eyes flicked to her with thinly veiled disdain. “You’re still here?”

Evelyn didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The ache in her silence was louder than any words could’ve been.

I sat up straighter, pain be damned. “Emma—”

But Emma cut in, turning back to me with a faux-concerned pout. “I was just telling the council earlier that maybe Evelyn would be happier somewhere else. Somewhere far from the pressure of the pack and… expectations she clearly doesn’t enjoy.”

Evelyn stiffened.

My pulse roared in my ears.

“What are you doing?” I growled.

Emma shrugged, as if it were the most innocent suggestion in the world. “I’m just saying what everyone’s already thinking. She doesn’t enjoy it here. Right, Evelyn?”

“I have never felt very welcomed,” she admitted with a pointed look.

“See? It’s better for everyone this way. And Grayson told me that she’s the reason you were in the line of fire that got you injured.”

“That was a choice I made,” I snarled.

“A choice you made to protect her,” Emma said, jabbing a finger in Evelyn’s direction. “She wasn’t even supposed to be on the front lines, was she?”

Our ringing silence was answer enough.

“I see,” Emma continued. “And I heard you had to save her from a rogue as well. There were two times in that single battle when your safety was at risk because of choices she made. Am I wrong?”

“That’s enough,” I snapped.

But Evelyn’s voice was quiet when she spoke.

“She’s right.”

I turned to her, stunned. “What?”

She stepped away from the cot, from me, from everything.

“Maybe I don’t belong here. Maybe this was never going to work, Logan.”

“Don’t do this,” I said, sitting up further despite the fire in my ribs and shoulder.

Her eyes glistened, but she didn’t cry. “What do you want me to do? Keep pretending that I fit into a life I was never meant for?”

“Yes,” I said, too fast. “Pretend. For just a little longer. Until we figure this out.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m… I’m unhappy here, Logan. I think you’re unhappy I’m here, too. And I believe we both know you won’t be able to protect me from everyone forever.”

“I’m not trying to protect you, Evelyn. I’m trying to fight for you.”

Her smile was sad. “You can’t fight a war with someone who’s already halfway out the door.”

She shook her head and glanced between Emma and me. “It’s true that I’m putting you in danger with my choices, too. And I never would have wanted to come between you two. It‘s clear to me now that I’ve been overstepping. I apologize for that.”

Emma stood silent through it all, for once having the decency to look uncomfortable.

“I’ll go pack my things,” Evelyn said quietly. “I won’t cause a scene.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came.

She turned without another glance and disappeared through the tent flaps.

I felt like someone had just torn open the stitches she’d so carefully sewn into me.

Emma sat in the chair Evelyn had vacated, crossing one leg over the other like this was her victory parade.

“You’re welcome,” she said softly.

I turned to her with a look that made her flinch.

“Get out.”

She blinked. “Logan—”

“Now.”

She rose, back straightening, chin lifting like she hadn’t just tried to dismantle the one thing in my life that felt real. Evelyn and I had been growing, maybe even reconnecting, and with just a few minutes in Emma’s presence, that had all come tumbling down once more.

When Emma left, the tent was too quiet.

Too cold.

Too empty.

I leaned back against the cot and closed my eyes, ignoring the fresh rush of pain as I breathed in the lingering scent of lavender and blood that Evelyn had left behind.

How had everything slipped through my fingers so fast?

Just when I thought we were beginning to find our way back to each other.

She looked at me like she knew me, like she remembered something important. Like I meant something more.

And then… she was gone.

I’d always come for her.

But this time, I wasn’t sure she wanted me to.

And that hurt more than any wound ever could.

With a grunt and groan of pain, I began to hoist myself up. The time for sitting back in my cot was up. There was work to be done, tasks that needed tending to, and jobs that might distract me from this new torment in my life.

Because I was an Alpha, and I had to put aside these feelings to get work done and to protect my pack, even if it felt impossible. Even if I felt like I wanted nothing more than to resign myself to my cot now and wallow in what had just happened.