Chapter 11 - Damian
I’m trying to stay focused, but all I can think about is that kiss, and how Sophie’s body felt against mine, or how her lips tasted like a sweet fruit dripping with nourishing essence.
“Damian!”
James’s voice snaps me into the moment, and I turn at the border of Red Moon territory.
“What are you doing, James?! Go back home!” I command, but the beta shakes his head as he joins me at the front line of our army.
“I have had enough time to rest. I am fighting with you, Alpha,” he declares firmly, standing beside me with squared shoulders and curled fists.
He almost got killed the last time he was so adamant, but there’s no stopping the beta. He’s as determined as I am to be on the frontlines in these fights, and I admire his courage.
Perhaps I need some of it to take the edge off of what I’m going through after what happened with Sophie.
One by one, the werewolves shift into wolf form upon my go-ahead, chasing into the south corner of the valley through the forest. One-quarter of the valley that was once barren and burnt has begun to flourish with new growth.
Just as Amos said, the Ashclaw territory is responding to something, but it isn’t to the horror and death the demons bring.
The valley is responding to Sophie—the Ashclaw Pack descendant.
And that’s why we’re rushing toward the screeches, planning to chase the demons away before they enter Red Moon territory.
“Where is the human?!” Conan shouts through the mind link as his wolves emerge from the part of the forest that leads from the Iron Breath territory.
“Shut up, Conan!” Heinrich barks, joining us from the east with his wolves in tow. “Leave her out of this!”
“We could have used her right now. There’s more than one!”
I snarl at Conan’s raven black wolf, baring my teeth before glancing at the meadow where a vortex of black smoke curls in the air. “You heard Heinrich! Leave her out of this. She’s not ready!”
Conan growls at me, but there’s no time for bickering and trying to figure out if he wants Sophie gone, or if he suddenly sees her as an asset, when a terrifying screech echoes through the forest, and a whoosh through the air is followed by branches snapping from the barren trees as the demons come swooping in.
What happens next is a blur of thundering roars from the wolves as we slash through the demons, staying in a group despite our differences with Conan. We work as a team, clawing through the demons as they come lunging toward us.
But as expected, none of our attacks seem to work, and the demons are able to nimbly dodge each attack, spreading out in mist before morphing back into treacherous creatures with black pits for eyes and yellowing teeth when they snarl.
Something slams into me from behind with crushing force.
The impact drives the air straight out of my lungs as claws made of condensed shadow rake across my back, slicing deep enough that white-hot pain detonates through my spine.
I hit the ground hard, dirt and ash filling my mouth as I roll instinctively, barely avoiding a second strike that shatters the earth where my head had been.
My vision blurs for a heartbeat, stars bursting behind my eyes, and I snarl as I force myself back onto my paws, muscles screaming in protest.
Pain doesn’t slow me down. Rage does the opposite, but there’s no water close by to tap into for the sake of elemental magic.
Heinrich tries lifting a rock, his wolf straining because of his pack’s weakness without a fated mate by his side.
So I pivot, launching myself at the demon with a roar that shakes the clearing, slamming into its chest and tearing upward with my claws.
This time, the resistance is undeniable.
The demon shrieks as black grime spills freely, its form destabilizing as it reels back, smoke unraveling in violent tendrils.
But it’s only a matter of time before it gathers its form once again.
It won’t die. Not without Sophie here, and there’s no way I would have brought her into the throes of danger.
“Fight, wolves!” I roar through the mind link. “Let them tire out, until they retreat, but don’t let them touch you!”
Around me, the battle rages on; Heinrich barreling through one demon’s misting form, Conan’s wolves snapping and regrouping, James fighting with reckless determination despite how recently he woke from death’s grip.
But the demons aren’t retreating.
The first demon surges forward again, its form denser now, heavier, as if feeding off the chaos and pain saturating the air.
It moves in tandem with the other, flanking me with terrifying precision, and for the first time since the fight began, a sharp thread of unease cuts through my fury.
I twist to block one strike, jaws snapping shut on shadow, but that leaves my side exposed.
The second demon takes full advantage of the exposure, and its claws punch into my abdomen with brutal force, tearing through muscle and flesh as if I’m made of nothing at all.
A raw, involuntary howl rips out of me as I’m lifted off my feet and thrown across the clearing, my body crashing through a fallen tree in a spray of splintered wood.
Pain consumes everything: my vision, my breath, my movement, my limbs refusing to respond as I hit the ground and skid to a halt.
I try to pick myself up, but my body refuses to comply.
Blood pools beneath me, warm and slick, my breath coming in shallow, ragged pulls that do nothing to steady the roaring in my ears.
The world spins around me, the sounds of battle muffling as if I’m sinking underwater, and I feel my inner wolf clawing desperately to keep me conscious, but my human body is slowly coming back into form.
The demons screech again, emboldened now, and through the haze I see James fighting his way toward me, Heinrich barreling into one of the creatures with a roar that vibrates through the earth.
The shapes of wolves, shadows, teeth, and smoke move all around me, but I can’t focus, can’t rise, can’t command my body the way I always have.
For the first time since the incident in Hamilton that nearly cost me my arm, I’m down.
And the last thing I’m aware of before the darkness starts to creep in and consume me is a single, terrifying thought.
If they don’t end this fast, the demons are going to find Sophie. I can’t protect her. I can’t…
***
“Sophie!” I exclaim, air burning my lungs like a scorching fire, my eyes snapping open to a yellow light as bright as if I were staring at the sun. I shield my eyes with one hand, blinking to readjust my vision, my airways recognizing her even before I can see her.
“It’s okay, Damian, you’re fine,” her timid voice whispers, and I remove my hand from my eyes to see her perfect, round face staring at me, blinking, long lashes flapping like a fairy’s wings as she reaches out toward me with a hand of divine healing.
She places a hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me back. I follow her command, naturally, and take a deep breath to fill my lungs with her sweet essence.
“Fucking hell, Dame!” James’s voice cuts through the comfort of Sophie’s presence, and I flick my eyes to the left to find myself surrounded by the beta, Heinrich, Conan, and Dianna.
“Watch your language, Beta,” I growl at him, but the smirk on my lips is playful as I pat my chest. “At least I know I didn’t die.”
“You were very close to dying,” Heinrich says, shaking his head, clearly still spooked. “You nearly bled out.”
“From where?” I ask with a frown, and Sophie takes a step toward the bed and points to my left side.
“Your ribs were pretty bad. It took you at least two hours to heal.”
“Two hours?!” I exclaim in shock, lifting myself to sit upright as I pull the sheet down, only to find a few small scars there. “It would have never taken me two hours to heal. Days, maybe, but not hours.”
“Sophie is a very gifted healer, Dame. Why are you even surprised?”
“I’m not…” I murmur in response to Dianna, looking up to meet Sophie’s brown eyes as she lowers her gaze shyly. “What happened with the demons?” I turn to the men. “Were there any casualties?”
Heinrich clears his throat, then glances at James, who shrugs nervously, his lips curled downward.
“What’s going on?”
Conan huffs as he steps forward, crossing his arms against his chest, sounding bitter when he says, “Your sister thought it was a good idea to bring the human to the fight.”
“What?!”
Sophie curls into herself, while Dianna steps forward. “I’m sorry, Damian, but James linked me in and told me what happened to you, and that they were losing the fight against the demons. It was the only way to stop the demons and save you.”
“You went to the south…?” I murmur in disbelief, but only shocked because I was out cold and didn’t get to witness it.
Sophie nods tentatively, staring at her hands as she wrings them in front of her. “I don’t remember much.”
“She was spectacular!”
“She burned that group to ashes!”
“She’s a liability, and it’s only a matter of time before more of them come for us,” Conan grouches irritably, glaring at Sophie. “The demon attacks are already becoming more frequent. Now they’re gonna come after the human and—”
Conan doesn’t get to finish what he wants to say when I’m on my feet in no time, grabbing his neck and pinning him against the wall, feeling stronger than ever, as if I didn’t get another taste of death tonight.
“Make up your fucking mind, Conan,” I growl, my eyes narrowed at him menacingly.
“Earlier tonight, you were asking where she was ‘cause you were scared of the demons. She saved your life, too, and now you’re talking shit about her?” I scoff, letting go of his throat as he coughs and splutters.
“You will respect my mate, or consider yourself alone in this fight.”
“Silver Stone will withdraw as allies if Damian pulls out,” Heinrich adds, and Conan finally straightens up, swallowing and clearing his throat.
His nostrils flare, but all he does is say, “I’ll see myself out,” before pushing past my shoulder and leaving the room.
“I think he’s losing his mind,” Heinrich comments, and I wait for the thud of the front door before turning to the Alpha of Silver Stone.
“Thank you, Henry,” I nod at him, and he returns it. “But I think you’re right. Conan’s losing his mind, and we need to keep an eye on him. And tonight’s fight needs to be reported to the council.”
“I’ll handle the council,” Heinrich replies. “You should get some rest, Damian.”
Heinrich, James, and Dianna soon leave, allowing me to turn to Sophie with wonder.
“I have so many questions…”
“I’m sure you do, but so do I,” Sophie replies with a sigh as she finally meets my gaze.
“When you left, I couldn’t stop thinking that something happened to you.
I felt something, and I ran out. That’s when Dianna arrived, and said—” Sophie chokes on the words, her eyes filling with tears.
“I don’t know how I did it, but it just happened!
” she sobs, compelling me to step forward and wrap her in my arms.
I soothe the back of her head with one hand, cooing and whispering words of comfort, my heart aching for her. While she’s in my arms, I can feel the whirlwind of her emotions, conflicting feelings colliding with kaleidoscopic impact.
“I don’t know what’s going on with me, Damian…” she wails, and there’s a part of me that wants to tell her about her lineage from the Ashclaw Pack. She just learned about the existence of werewolves, only mildly making peace with it, and she’s struggling to trust me.
But she deserves to know that some of her ancestors are werewolves and witches. She needs to know why she’s as powerful as she is, and that none of this is because of me, or because she’s my fated mate.
It’s all her.
She’s more powerful than she knows.
I tilt my head back, and Sophie looks up, her eyes vulnerable orbs that make her appear so fragile, her bottom lip quivering.
I open my mouth to say the words dangling on my tongue, but Sophie stops me when she crushes her lips to mine.
The kiss is heated, desperate, her tongue fighting for dominance until I relent and part my lips—mostly with a sigh of relief, because there’s a flicker of hope that she’s beginning to trust me again—and that’s when her tongue dives in and dances with mine.
Her body molds to mine as I pull her closer, her soft curves pliant in my hands as the kiss becomes more feverish, more passionate, and somehow, we fall onto the couch together.
She has her thigh draped over my waist, pushing herself forward, but I break the kiss because I don’t want to take advantage of her.
“Wait, Sophie…” I whisper, my heart racing even faster when I see how flushed she is, eyes disoriented with desire. “Are you sure?”
Sophie grabs the back of my neck with the kind of firmness that I’ve never felt from her dainty fingers. “No more talking, Damian. Just kiss me again.”
She has no idea how dangerous that instruction is, because I’ve been losing my mind trying to fight these feelings, and driving myself insane these last two years trying to get her out of my head. She might be the one demanding the kiss, but I’m the one who needs it more when I meet her lips again.