"You have a son?" I asked, shocked.
"Yes, he’s two years and six months old," she said with a bright smile.
I returned her smile, but my mind was racing. Did Damien know about this? Did he know Sofia had moved on—with another man—and had a child? I didn’t think he did. So, out of curiosity, I asked, "Have you seen Alpha Damien recently?"
Sofia’s expression shifted into something more guarded. "Yes... I saw him two days ago."
I nodded but pressed on. "Does he know you’ve moved on with another man and have a child for him? Because Damien doesn’t seem to have moved on."
Sofia’s smile faltered at my question. She looked down at her coffee for a moment, her fingers tightening around the cup.
"I’m not sure what Damien knows," she said softly.
I studied her face—how the light left her eyes when his name came up. Her shoulders slumped slightly, as though the weight of his memory still sat heavily on her.
"I never told him," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "About my son... about the man. About... any of it."
My brows furrowed. "Why?"
She let out a quiet breath and looked up at me again. "Because I didn’t want to hurt him more than I already did. And honestly... I wasn’t even sure he wanted to know."
I blinked, confused. "But you said you saw him two days ago?"
She gave a small nod. "Yes. When you were taken by Calvin, I was released to him. Actually, the reason I showed up was because I wanted to meet with Rebecca and find out why she married Damien. But instead, I got the shocking news of my life—that she was dead."
She paused and inhaled deeply.
I felt for her... Rebecca’s death was a hard pill for her to swallow.
"After realizing everything Damien did with you, I got angry and told him never to come near me again..."
I was quiet for a moment, letting her words sink in.
"You still love him," I said gently.
Sofia didn’t deny it. She smiled sadly. "Damien and I... we were so much in love. He obviously loved me. I’ll always love him. He was my first love... my only love."
Sofia chuckled softly, looking away, like she was pulling a memory from a box she’d kept hidden deep inside her heart.
"I still remember the night I met Damien," she said, her voice low. "It was five years ago... I had just left this pack for a while. Life here was suffocating—everyone hated me, the whispers never stopped. So I packed my bags and went to stay with an old friend in her pack."
She glanced at me, a soft smile playing on her lips. "One night, my friend dragged me to this nightclub in the city. I was drunk—like, really drunk. And then... I saw him."
"He was sitting in the VIP section with a few other men. Even from across the room, he looked... different. That aura, that power, that calm control—he didn’t even have to speak, and I was already drawn in."
She let out a small laugh and covered her face in embarrassment. "Drunk me had no filter. I walked straight up to him, looked him dead in the eyes, and asked if he could take me home and fuck me."
My eyes widened. "You didn’t."
"Oh, I did," she laughed, nodding. "I was bold. Stupid, really. He didn’t say a word—just stared at me like I was insane. So I turned to the man beside him and repeated the exact same thing."
She shook her head, smiling at the memory. "That was the moment Damien stood up. I swear, the possessiveness that flashed in his eyes... it was like something inside him snapped."
I leaned closer, curious. "What did he do?"
"He pulled me away," Sofia said, her eyes flickering with fondness. "Didn’t say a word to the others. Just took me out of the club. I thought he was angry, or maybe he just wanted to teach me a lesson—but instead... he took me to his house. Gave me water. Put me to bed. Stayed on the couch the whole night. He didn’t touch me, Olivia. Not once."
She paused, her voice even softer now. "I tried to tempt him. I was throwing myself at him. But he wouldn’t lay a finger on me. Said I was drunk and he didn’t want our first time to be something I’d forget or regret."
My heart warmed a little at that.
"When I woke up the next morning and realized where I was... I was embarrassed," she continued. "I apologized, thanked him, and left without even asking his name."
Her smile widened. "But the very next day, I walked into my friend’s house—and there he was, sitting in the living room waiting for me."
She laughed lightly. "That’s when I learned his name. Damien. Alpha of the Pack. I couldn’t believe it."
"And that was the beginning," I murmured.
Sofia nodded slowly. "That was the beginning. He courted me after that. Took his time. He was patient. Gentle. Protective. I had never known love before him. I never knew what it felt like to be wanted, cherished. Damien gave me that."
Her voice cracked a little. "He was the first man I ever gave myself to. Completely. My first everything."
I stared at her, my heart tugging at the sincerity in her voice. "Then why did you leave?"
Her smile faded. She took a slow sip of her coffee, like she needed a moment to gather the strength to speak.
"Because he didn’t know who I really was," she said quietly. "He never knew my last name. Never knew my family. I kept that from him."
Her fingers toyed with the edge of her napkin. Sofia looked at me, her eyes filled with pain. "I mean... the day I found out we were related—and not just that, but that our families were enemies."
She looked away, her voice shaky. "I left because I thought that was the best thing to do. But leaving him broke me more than anything else ever had."
She placed a hand over her heart. "I had to learn to live without him."
I nodded slowly, then glanced down at the table.
"So... who are you with now? Your son’s father?" I asked softly.
Sofia hesitated. "No."
I frowned, puzzled. She inhaled deeply before continuing.
Sofia hesitated again. "There is no man, Olivia..."
She looked away, swallowing hard. "Damien is the only man I’ve ever been with."
My eyes widened. "So that means..."
Sofia nodded. "He’s my son’s father."