Rejected and Pregnant I Fled The Pack (Evelyn and Damon) novel Chapter 192

I understood the genuine, complicated courage behind her decision, even as protective frustration remained present regardless.

The healer finished her initial assessment, confirming the injury appeared serious but not immediately life-threatening—a significant concussion, requiring careful monitoring, but nothing indicating permanent damage.

"You need rest," I said firmly, once the healer had stepped away to prepare appropriate treatment. "No more direct combat involvement, regardless of how genuinely you want to contribute."

She nodded, though I could see genuine reluctance beneath her acceptance, understanding this fierce, protective instinct toward her people ran deep despite everything she'd already survived.

I stepped outside briefly to check on the broader battle's progress, finding the confrontation gradually winding down, Damian's remaining forces retreating rapidly now that Ashford's reinforcements had genuinely tipped the balance decisively against them.

Callum approached, exhaustion and cautious relief both evident in his expression. "We're securing the perimeter now, confirming Damian's forces have genuinely retreated rather than simply regrouping for renewed assault."

"Casualties," I asked, understanding the genuine cost of this significant confrontation.

"Several injuries among our warriors, nothing fatal," Callum reported. "A few more serious injuries among Ashford's forces, though their healers are managing treatment directly. Miriam's the most significant casualty from her group specifically."

I nodded, relief building despite the genuine, exhausting toll this entire conflict had exacted. "What about Damian himself?"

"Retreated with his remaining forces," Callum confirmed. "Though given how decisively we repelled this attack, I suspect this represents genuine, significant setback to whatever plans he'd initially constructed."

I processed that, understanding this likely wasn't final resolution, but genuine, significant progress toward eventually neutralizing the threat he represented.

I made my way back toward the medical tent, finding my father had arrived despite his continued physical limitations, apparently unable to resist checking on the battle's outcome despite everyone's insistence he remain safely away from the actual confrontation.

"You shouldn't be here," I said, though genuine relief at seeing him safe tempered my obvious concern.

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