Page 30 of Victorious: Part I

“It’s okay, princess. Daddy’s okay,” he whispers against Poppy’s ear as she snuggles into him, seeking his comfort. Though Alpha still has no idea that Livvy isn’t going to make it, and considering he just came out of a PTSD episode, I’m not about to tell him.

He can live with hope for now.

It might be cruel, but at least it will give him a little bit longer to hold onto hope.

Because having hope gives you something to cling on to.

Poppy and I don’t have that now, and I don’t want Alpha to feel like we do.

Not until he has to.

Chapter Nine

ALPHA

My mind is a mess, swirling memories combatting each other as the sun rises against the backdrop of Livvy’s room. Memories I don’t want to relive. Memories being made in this very room. Traumas that made me into the man I am but also triggering very real events that started a landfall of chaos and carnage that Ineverwant to revisit.

I lost my men in the heat of combat.

I lost brothers I trusted too easily.

I lost my daughter to a Cartel fighting a meaningless turf war.

And my marriage ended because I lost myself to my inner demons.

I almost let them win me over again.

Seeing Livvy in this hospital bed, suffering, and watching Poppy fighting to get to her like that—it triggered me. The noise, the chaos, the machines beeping frantically, and Rhodes and Miranda working on Livvy like it was all coming to an end—I’m supposed to be the strong one.

The man who stands up, the man who takes charge, and yet I fell to the floor in a fucking heap.

What a pathetic piece of shit I am.

As Poppy sleeps soundly, nestled on my lap, my thoughts grow darker and angrier in my mind as I continue to stare at Livvy, sleeping in her bed. Her skin grows pale and clammy, her lips taking on a bluish tint now. Soft whimpers and moans escape her more frequently. The heart monitor shows her heartbeat is slowing.

I don’t know what the hell happened when I was out of it, and Rhodes was working on Livvy, but by the tension and vibe in the room, I know something is very, very wrong.

I just don’t know if I am capable of knowing the truth.

So I continue to sit.

Holding my daughter close.

And staring at Livvy, watching her fade right before my very eyes.

Another few hours pass. Nurse Miranda came to check on Haven and her wounds, and the morning shifts to midday. Dr. Rhodes returns, his face weary, like he hasn’t slept as he checks Livvy’s vitals and adjusts her medications. “She’s holding on,” he tells us quietly. His eyes dart over to Haven. She hesitantly glances at me, her shoulders sinking as she reaches for my hand.

Instantly, I know.

They don’t even need to tell me.

My breathing starts to rush as I grab Poppy and lift her off my lap, passing her toward Haven. She reaches out for Poppy, pulling her in to hold her. “Alpha, baby,” she whispers, but I shake my head, walking toward Livvy’s bed, my bottom lip trembling as I look over her weak and fragile frame.

How could I not have seen it?

I spin and face Rhodes, determination in my stature. “She’s dying.” It’s a statement, not a question.

Rhodes clenches his eyes tight, letting out a long exhale, then takes a step forward, his eyes landing on Livvy with nothing but devotion shining through. “I’m so sorry, Stone, but her injuries are catastrophic. We’ve made her as comfortable as we can, but her organs are failing. From a surgical standpoint, there’s nothing more I can do for her. There’s simply too much internal damage.”

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