Alpha's Regret: The Seventh Time was Forever

Chapter 279: Chapter 279 – Marigold A.

The words landed somewhere deep in Seraphine’s chest and twisted.

”How old is she?” The question came out before she had fully decided to ask it, her voice dropping into that careful, controlled register she used when she was holding something fragile together from the inside.

Her mind was already moving, pulling at threads, lining things up, refusing to let hope run too far ahead of logic.

The one thing she had asked the moon goddess for, the single thing she had carried like a stone in her pocket every single day, was to find her daughter before the full moon.

But after what happened with all the children she rescued during the Santiago ordeal, she wasn’t going to fall apart over a phone call. No, she wasn’t going to do that to herself again.

”Her records say she’s five, but Sera, her hair reminds me of Alpha Ravyn.”

The breath that moved through Seraphine was slow. Her daughter would be turning seven in a few months but then again, there could be a mistake with the date.

Perhaps she should go and look out for that birth mark Kylie told her about. Besides, Seraphine had never once turned her back on a child, and she wasn’t starting today.

”Okay.” Her voice steadied. ”Let me get clearance from my boss and I’ll head over. I’m leaving now.”

She was already on her feet before the call ended.

✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦

Leon looked up from his desk when she pushed the door open, and his eyes moved immediately to her face, reading it quickly and accurately.

”Leo.” She kept it short. ”There’s a child at Whitfield’s Private hospital who needs me. Can I take my last hour? I’ll cover it tomorrow, first thing.”

He looked at the surgical schedule on his screen, the list that was never quite as short as either of them would like, and then back at her. Whatever he saw in her expression settled the question faster than any argument could have.

”Go.” He waved his hand once. ”Just make sure tomorrow actually means tomorrow.”

”Thank you.” She was already moving.

She had her phone to her ear before she hit the stairwell, Corvine picking up on the second ring.

”There’s a situation.” She kept her voice low as she pushed through the door into the afternoon air. ”A child needs help, it’s a complicated case. I’m going to Nicole’s hospital. It’s close, I’ll grab an Uber.”

The silence on his end lasted exactly one second. ”Nicole.” Corvine’s voice grew stern, that particular careful flatness dropping over it. ”You sure about this, Sera? Last time she pulled us into something—”

”It’s a five-year-old girl, Corvine.”

There was another silence, shorter this time before he responded. ”Call me when you’re done. I’ll come get you.”

Seraphine flagged down a car and got in.

The ride was twelve minutes and she spent all of them looking out the window without seeing any of it. She had already talked herself down from the edge of hope twice by the time the car pulled up to the entrance.

Whatever this was, whoever this child was, she was going in as a doctor. That was all. That was the only thing she was allowed to be right now.

Nicole was standing at the entrance like she had been watching the street for the last ten minutes. The moment she spotted Seraphine she was already moving, cutting across the lobby with the urgent energy of someone who had been waiting too long for backup.

”Thank you for coming.” She fell into step beside her, steering her toward a cluster of doctors near the corridor. ”I want you to meet—”

”Meet our genius doctor,” Nicole announced to the group, spreading her hands with a dramatic flair that Seraphine did not have the bandwidth for right now. ”She’ll handle it.”

Seraphine’s eyes moved across the faces in the group and stopped.

”Callum?”

He looked up and the awkward, almost bashful smile that crossed his face was so out of place on a grown man that it would have been funny under different circumstances. He had filled out since she last saw him, looked steadier somehow, the particular tension that used to live around his eyes mostly gone.

”Hey.” His voice was careful, measured. ”Yeah. We can talk later though.”

She understood immediately. Pack business. Human ears everywhere. Later.

She gave him one small nod and moved past into the ward.

The room was quiet compared to the hallway but the energy inside it was not.

A young woman sat in the chair beside the child’s bed, her bright red hair catching the overhead light, her whole body angled toward the phone pressed against her ear. Her voice was barely holding itself together.

”I don’t know what to do. You have to come. Please, I’m so scared, I—”

Seraphine’s eyes moved past her to the girl on the bed.

She was small. Perfectly still. Unconscious but somehow peaceful looking in a way that felt almost deliberate, like sleep rather than crisis. Her lashes were dark against her cheeks and her hands rested open at her sides.

Her hair was exactly as Nicole described them. Her long, curly black hair was a storm of midnight waves, a crown of untamed beauty that made her look older than her years, just like Ravyn’s’.

Something pulled at Seraphine from across the room, steady, growing stronger with every step she took closer, like a compass needle turning.

She had never seen this child in her life, but she needed to find the birth mark.

”Please ask her to step out.” Seraphine’s voice came out low, directed at Nicole.

The red-haired woman was already standing before Nicole had opened her mouth, phone still in her hand, walking toward the door as if she had simply decided on her own to leave. No argument, no question.

Nicole watched her go with tight eyes. ”The attitude on that woman,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head.

Seraphine wasn’t listening.

She was already at the bedside, pulling on gloves, reaching for her stethoscope. She checked the girl’s pulse, steady, strong, completely normal. Listened to her breathing. Ran through every surface indicator with the focused efficiency of someone who had done this ten thousand times, and the more she checked, the more confused she became.

She straightened. ”There’s nothing wrong with her.”

Nicole’s face drew a line of confusion. ”She was seizing when they brought her in. Convulsing badly enough that two nurses had to hold her down. When we tried to stabilize her, she lost consciousness.”

”I believe you.” Seraphine looked down at the girl. ”But right now, she reads completely clean. I want to stay until she wakes up.” She paused. ”Can I have a few minutes alone with her?”

Every child was a possibility. That was the hope she lived with, and she wasn’t going to apologize for it.

Nicole gathered the remaining staff with a look and the room emptied out quietly.

Seraphine stood in the silence.

She reached for the file on the bedside table and looked at the name written at the top.

Marigold A.

The surname had been cut to an initial. She stared at it for a moment, then set the file back down and looked at the girl’s face again. That strange familiarity that had started across the room had not gotten quieter up close. It had gotten louder.

Her hand moved slowly, about to lift her blouse to check for any birthmark he door opened.

Seraphine looked up.

Every bit of warmth left her face in an instant. The color that had been sitting in her cheeks drained completely, all the way down, until she felt cold from the inside out.

She stood completely still, her hand frozen in midair above the child’s blouse, and stared at the person who had just walked through the door.