Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
Damien
The moment our lips meet, a dam bursts inside my chest. The rigid architecture of control I’ve spent months constructing—every careful boundary, every practiced separation between the man who courts her and the beast who claims her—explodes into fragments.
The pressure that has lived behind my ribs, the constant ache of holding back, releases in a rush that leaves me gasping against her mouth, crumbling under the force of our kiss.
She tastes like tears and rage and love, and I want to drown in her. This is what I’ve stolen from us. The chance to love without shadows, to touch without deception, to exist in the same moment as one person instead of fragments scattered across two lives.
This connection, honest, unguarded, and real, is what I’ve been too afraid to give us. What I’ve been too convinced I didn’t deserve to even try for.
“I hate you.”
Her growl vibrates against my mouth, but her hands tangle in my shirt, dragging me closer. The contradiction in her words and actions mirrors everything I feel, the self-loathing and desperate love warring inside me.
“I know.” I back her toward the couch, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm behind my ribs as our kisses deepen. My hands find her waist, fingers digging in like she might disappear if I don’t hold tight enough. “Me too.”
I hate what I’ve done to us. I hate that I was too much of a coward to trust her with all of me from the beginning.
Her fingers shake as she grips my shirt, and I catch her hands, stilling them, pulling back to look down at her pale face. The tremor in her touch and the tears staining her face gut me more than any blade could.
“Luna.” I search her face. The storm of emotions there—pain, anger, love—all of it so raw it squeezes the air from my lungs. My thumbs brush across her knuckles, trying to steady us both. “I’m sorry. Christ, I’m so fucking sorry.”
Her tear-filled eyes lift to mine.
“Sorry doesn’t fix this.”
Her voice carries that sharp edge she uses when she’s trying not to break.
“I know.” I kiss her again before she can stop me, before I can stop myself, pouring everything I can’t say into it.
She fights me. Her hands shove at my shoulders, body twisting, but I only kiss her deeper, swallowing her protests.
When I pull away, we’re both gasping. Her pulse hammers against my palms where I’m still holding her wrists. “But I need you to—”
“Stop.” She shoves at my chest, hard enough that I stumble back a step, releasing her hands. “Just stop talking.”
I reach for her again, but she pushes me away, harder this time. The rejection catches me off guard, not expecting the force behind it. When she’s angry, she’s stronger than she looks.
“Don’t touch me.” Her voice cracks, and she wraps her arms around herself, backing toward the fireplace like she needs something solid behind her. “You lied to me. For months, you lied to me.”
“Yes.” The word comes out strangled, forced past the tightness in my chest. “But the way I feel about you was never a lie. It’s the only real thing in my fucked-up life.”
“How am I supposed to believe anything you say? How do I know what’s real and what’s just another mask you’re wearing?”
The accusation hits its mark, and I flinch. I’ve been wearing masks for so long, I barely know who I am anymore. Except when I’m with her. She’s the only person who’s ever been able to get past them all.
“You want to know what’s real?”
I take a step toward her, but Shadow moves in front of her. He won’t let me near her right now. I don’t blame him. He knows the time has come to protect her from me.
“This is real. The way I can’t breathe when you walk into a room. The way I’d carve out my own heart and hand it to you. The way I’d slaughter anyone, anyone, who tried to take you from me.”
“Stop.” She shakes her head, turning away from me. Tears carve paths down her flushed cheeks, her reflection fractured in the mirror above the fireplace. “You don’t get to say things like that. Not after what you’ve done.”
“I love you!” The words rip from my chest like they’re taking pieces of me with them.
She flinches as if I’ve struck her. Her reflection crumples, and she turns away from the fireplace to look at me again.
“I love you, Luna. That’s the only truth I know.”
“Don’t.” Her voice is a whisper. “Don’t say that now. Not now.”
But I can’t stop. Now that the words are out, they pour from me like a dam bursting.
“I love the way you care for your animals, for everyone around you. I love the way you defy me. Right from the beginning, even when you were terrified of me, you never cowered. I love the sound of your laugh and the way you smile when you see me, both of me. I love the way you feel, the way you smell, the way you taste. I love that you see the good in everyone, even in a monster like me. I love—”
“Stop!” She presses her hands to her ears. “I can’t hear this right now. I can’t—” Her voice breaks completely, and she doubles over like she’s in physical pain.
I move toward her, needing to comfort her, to do something other than stand here watching her fall apart. Shadow’s lips pull back from his teeth in a warning snarl. I freeze mid-step, my arms hanging at my sides.
The distance between us feels impossible to cross.
“You hurt me.” The words are so quiet I almost miss them. She’s still bent over, her hair falling like a curtain around her face. “You made me fall in love with a lie.”
The accusation hits me harder than any physical blow ever could. I did hurt her. I took her trust, her love, and her body, all under false pretenses. I’m exactly the monster she thinks I am.
“Luna, please—”
“Get out.” She straightens, wiping her tears with her fingers. When she looks at me, her eyes are hollow, empty of everything that used to make them shine. “Please just go. I’m begging you.”
Panic lodges under my ribs. “Luna—”
“Please.” The word breaks on another sob. “I can’t look at you right now. I can’t—I need you to leave.”
Every instinct I have screams at me to fight, to refuse, to battle for her until she forgives me. This woman is everything to me—the light in my darkness, the peace in my chaos. Without her, I’m nothing but the monster I was before she came into my life.
But the tears streaming down her face stop me. I’ve hurt her enough. I’ve taken enough from her without permission.
“This isn’t over. I’ll give you space, Luna, but I won’t give up on you. On us. I won’t let you go.”
Her shoulders shake with silent sobs, but she doesn’t respond. My hand hovers over the mask on the table, the wolf that set all of this in motion, before I draw back. She deserves to toss it into her fireplace and watch it melt.
I reach for my jacket. The movement feels wrong, disconnected. Like I'm watching myself from outside my body, trapped in a nightmare I can't wake from. At the door, I stop and turn back. She stands in the middle of her living room, dwarfed by the space. Surrounded by the ghosts of what we were.
“I love you,” I say again, because it’s the only truth I have left to give her. “That was never a lie.”
She doesn’t look up, her eyes fixed on the floor, like meeting my gaze would shatter whatever fragile control she's clinging to and destroy what's left of her.
Walking away from her is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Each step feels like I’m leaving pieces of myself behind, my feet like lead, every muscle in my body fighting the movement. By the time I reach my truck, breathing is impossible around the pain in my chest.
I turn back toward the house, and the light from the living room window spills out onto the porch in pale yellow rectangles.
Through the glass, I see her sitting on the couch with her face buried in her hands.
Shadow presses his massive body against her side, his head resting on her shoulder like he’s trying to absorb some of her pain.
She’s crying. Not quiet tears but deep, wrenching sobs that shake her entire frame, her shoulders heaving with each one.
My feet move back toward the house before I realize what I’m doing.
My hands ball into fists so tight my nails dig crescents into my palms. The need to go back tears through me, to take those steps two at a time, gather her in my arms, and swear I’ll never cause her this kind of pain again.
But I can’t promise her that, no matter how much I want to.
She needs space to mourn what we had before I took a hammer to it and smashed it into pieces too small to put back together.
She loves me. The words never crossed her lips tonight, couldn’t make it past the hurt and rage choking her, but I know they’re there.
I felt it in the way her mouth opened under mine and her body melted against me for those few seconds before she shoved me away.
She loves me, and I took that gift and destroyed it with my own hands.
But I meant what I said. This isn’t over. I’ll give her time to process, to heal from what I’ve done. But I won’t give up on us. I can’t. She’s the only good thing I’ve ever had, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving I’m worthy of her if that’s what it takes.
I get in my truck, a knife twisting in my chest, and press my forehead against the steering wheel.
This is the price of my deception, my cowardice, and my lies. And I’ll carry the image and sound of her crying with me for the rest of my life.