Alpha Damien grunted as he glared at his brother. "Enough, brother… that's enough. No more talk about Sofia," he spat.
From where I sat, I cast a curious glance at him—and it was clear the mention of Sofia had drastically shifted his mood. Just moments ago, he had been calm, almost nonchalant. Now, he looked furious—so furious it was frightening.
Who was Sofia? Was she his mate? If so… where the hell is she?
But Sir Damon didn't back down. His voice remained firm. "I'll keep talking about her, Damien. Maybe that way, you'll finally see reason. Perhaps you'll remember what it feels like to love someone—and lose them."
Alpha Damien growled deeply. "They never wanted her—so I'm taking her."
I clenched my fists in my lap. Why was he talking about me like I was a prize to be claimed? Like I was some commodity to be passed around. Why was he so possessive of a woman he knew belonged to his nephews?
Sir Damon's anger intensified. He moved closer, and before I could even blink, he grabbed Damien by the collar. I gasped.
But Damien didn't even flinch. He just stared back at his brother, his frown deepening.
"Stop this madness, Damien. Stop it!" sir Damon spat, his voice trembling with rage.
Damien's voice was low, rough. "I won't… I won't."
The tension between them was like a storm ready to break. Their bodies were rigid. Their breathing heavy. I was sure a fight was about to happen. I could already imagine fists flying.
But just when it looked like they were about to explode, Alpha Damien yanked himself out of Damon's grip.
"I'm staying here," he said coldly. "For a few days."
That declaration sucked the air from the room.
"What?" Damon barked.
Damien didn't repeat himself. He simply looked my way—the anger in his eyes obvious. "Come with me," he said, facing me directly. "I want to have a word with you."
With that, he turned and began walking away.
For a moment, I didn't move. My heart pounded. A part of me wanted to stay put—to refuse. Even my wolf growled softly in agreement, "Don't go with him."
But my curiosity won. Maybe it was better to hear whatever he had to say. So I stood to my feet and followed him, ignoring the intense gaze I could feel from Sir Damon behind me.
We walked through the long hallway in silence. The only sounds were our footsteps echoing off the walls and my own nervous heartbeat. Finally, Damien stopped in front of a room tucked at the far end of the corridor.
He grabbed the door handle and pushed it open. The door creaked slightly as it swung inward.
I stepped in behind him—and instantly noticed something odd.
This room… it felt untouched. Dust clung to the windowsills. The air smelled faintly of wood and something aged. The bed was neatly made, but the room lacked warmth. No personal items. No sign of use. Like it had been left alone for years.
"This room…" I murmured softly, looking around. "No one uses it, do they?"
Damien stood beside the door, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. "It's mine," he said flatly. "This is my room… for when I stay here."
I turned to look at him, surprised. "Oh." I remember cleaning every corner of this mansion but was asked never to bother cleaning this particular room.
Alpha Damien moved away from the door, and I watched him walk over to the curtains. In one swift motion, he pulled them open, letting the morning sunlight pour into the room. It lit up the dust particles dancing in the air, casting soft, golden rays across the floor.
I inhaled deeply, feeling nervous. I waited for him to turn around and speak—but he didn't. Instead, his eyes moved slowly around the room, as if he were remembering something… or someone.
I could see the weight in his expression now—less anger, more pain. The kind of pain that clings to a person even when they pretend it's gone.
"I haven't stepped foot in this room for years," he finally said, his voice low.
I stayed silent, watching him closely. He didn't look at me. His eyes were still on the space around him, like the walls themselves were whispering memories he couldn't ignore.
"This was her room too… sometimes," he added after a moment.
So… this had been their room?
I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond. This wasn't what I expected when he said he wanted to talk.
"She used to love mornings," he continued, softer now. "Said the sun made everything feel alive again." He scoffed slightly under his breath. "I used to think she was ridiculous for saying that." Thɪs chapter is updatᴇd by N0velFire.ɴet
Still, he didn't face me. It was like I wasn't really here—like he was talking more to the ghosts than to me.
Then finally, his gaze flicked to mine. "Do you know what it's like to lose someone you'd die for?"
I swallowed hard, unsure how to answer. My voice barely came out. "Yes."
He nodded slowly, like he'd known what I'd say.
"It changes you," he said. "Breaks something inside you that never truly heals."
I could feel the heaviness of his words, the rawness of them.
He took a deep breath and turned fully to face me now, his tone shifting, harder again. "And maybe that's why I won't let my nephews get away with what they did to you."
I blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"
He took a step closer. "I mean they had you, and they didn't value what they had. They're young, reckless, distracted by power and position. They hurt you when they should've cherished you. And for that, I'll teach them a lesson."
My heart thudded in my chest.
I didn't know what shocked me more—his confusing words, or the anger in his words.
Before I could respond, he added, "I'll be staying here for two months… just for you."
I frowned, holding his gaze. "What… do you mean?"