Chapter 20 - Sophie
A gentle hum pulses through me, but it isn’t frightening the way it used to be. Instead, the gentle pulsing sensations make me feel as if I'm invincible, though the thought of feeling that way is what scares me.
What if it doesn’t happen the way it needs to happen next time? What if I’m not prepared? What if my powers don’t work?
This was only the beginning, and the battle doesn’t end so much as it exhales.
One moment, the southern ruins were a frenzy of heat and motion, and the next, the demons were gone—no shriek of retreat, no scorched residue clinging to stone, no sickly echo lingering in the air.
Just heavy, unnatural silence. The kind that presses against the ears and forces everyone present to reckon with what just happened.
Even me.
While I work diligently and focus on the task at hand, healing the wounded soldiers, I still struggle to make sense of what happened here tonight. The demons weren’t just attacking the way they did before, but they wielded fire as if that magic was their own.
I felt it in my bones—the sheer absurdity of the demons syphoning from the valley, from the ruins of the Ashclaw Pack’s territory, stealing power that was never theirs to wield.
I felt the anger of my ancestors coursing through my veins, igniting the fire within me with rage from lifetimes ago, and the pain of the massacre that took place in this part of the valley.
The last soldier I heal turns his face to me with a smile of reverence and gratitude. Returning that smile, mine filled with appreciation that he’d placed his trust in me to heal him, Damian appears and holds out a hand toward me.
“Everyone seems good enough to get back to the north. We should get some rest.”
“They’re not completely healed, Damian,” I protest even as I take his hand and get to my feet.
Somehow, we’d worked well as a team, with him handing out instructions to those less wounded to bring the ones needing healing to me.
Now that everyone is back on their feet, everyone seems to be making their way back home.
Even the other wolf packs and their alphas.
“I know,” Damian sighs, glancing at the sky. “But everyone’s exhausted, and you must be, too.”
A yawn escapes my lips in response, and Damian lets out a light chuckle. “I told James to let everyone know they can rest for tonight, and visit the clinic tomorrow if they need more treatment.”
“Thank you,” I whisper as I fall into step beside Damian as we head toward the river.
“Why are you thanking me?” he asks with a frown, pausing when we near the bridge and turning to me. “I should be thanking you. We all should. You saved us out there.”
I sigh forlornly as I stare out across the valley’s southern ruin, remembering the battle like a fever dream despite it happening just over an hour ago. Blood, gore, terror. It was all alive out there, until my fire awoke and I turned the demons into nothing…not even ashes.
But it wasn’t all me.
I turn back to Damian with a soft frown, recalling what I saw nearly a month ago when he shapeshifted into the most majestic creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, creamy fur soft and silky across the thick muscles of his wolf.
That was the moment that changed everything in my life, but in hindsight, it wasn’t as bad as I first thought it was. Everything just makes sense now, and I wouldn’t have been able to trust myself and step into my power so fiercely if it weren’t for Damian’s support.
I’d been wrong about him all this time, and as the moon, nearly full, hangs in the sky above his head, it casts a soft, silvery glow around his face, making him appear like the picture of quiet confidence and trust.
Trust.
I never thought I’d get here, where I can safely say that I trust—
“Are you okay? Want me to carry you over the bridge?”
“Carry me?” I scoff as I snap out of my head and follow Damian’s finger, pointed in the direction of the other werewolves shifting into their beast forms and staggering back home.
“Yes, in wolf—”
“No,” I cut him off bluntly. “We’re not doing that.” My voice tapers off into a faint whisper when I say, “Not yet.”
I’m not sure if Damian catches it, but I notice the smirk on his face as he hooks out his arm and allows me to brace my hand there, and we head north of the valley together.
A comfortable silence settles between us, and my heart smiles. I was wrong about this life. And I was wrong about who I was meant to be.
When we arrive at Damian’s cabin, the wolves greet us with gentle nods and brisk waves before they continue further into the valley, leaving the alpha and luna on the outskirts of the territory to—
Woah.
I catch myself with a frown, just as we step onto the porch and Damian pushes the door in. He steps aside to allow me in, and I can’t shake off the feeling that this feels too normal.
Is this what life will be like from now on?
Defeat the demons, and go back home as if we didn’t do something out of the ordinary…
Still, something feels like it’s missing, and it yanks on my heartstrings when Damian excuses himself to go shower, and I’m left to drag my feet back to my bedroom, where the log walls threaten to close in on me and swallow me whole.
There’s a part of me that wants to pick up where we left off in the mountains, but so much has happened since then, and it feels like there’s a mountain between us again.
There’s also a part of me that wants to close my eyes, just for a minute, and I do that as I listen to the shower running, imagining Damian undressing until he’s in nothing but creamy-white flesh that covers his thick muscles…
***
I wake with a start, my core throbbing as if I spent a passionate night with Damian, but my eyes open in my bedroom instead, where I’m very much alone and untouched.
Groaning as I lift myself to my elbows, I blink at the window, noticing dawn cracking through the curtains.
I must have fallen asleep last night, with the thought of Damian undressing in the shower. That’s why I dreamt about us having sex on the mountaintop…
I huff frustratedly, because that’s all it was—a dream in the midst of all the chaos that’s happening around us. That chaos still lingers like a dark cloud, evident when I enter the kitchen to find a note from Damian on the table.
“Breakfast is in the microwave. Gone to a meeting. See you at the clinic when I’m back.”
I smile softly, warmed because he was thoughtful enough to leave a note, even if there's a part of me that aches with a yearning I never thought would exist, a longing to have shared breakfast with the man who'd somehow slowly worked his way back into my heart.
Sighing from the heaviness of not seeing him first thing in the morning, I realize how much he's grown on me, creeping into the crevices of my heart where I'd tried to block him out.
But feeling like this was inevitable when he's my fated mate, our souls bound to an eternal contract that transcends the boundaries of the one we signed the day we got married.
The way I felt that night is a stark contrast to the way I'm feeling right now, and where there was hatred before, there's a softness now that's reminiscent of what I felt for him before.
It's scary, but it's not as bad as I thought it would be while I clung to my hatred for him. Instead, the weight of hatred has lifted from my shoulders, and I feel lighter than ever.
But I don't have time to bask in that lightness, especially when I've had breakfast and feel energized for the day. I have a full day ahead of me, but it's not a daunting thought to work at the pack clinic.
It's what brings me fulfillment, and it feels like I'm meant to be there.
***
“Aren't you tired?” Dianna asks with a frown as she stands at the doorway, arms folded, looking more tired than I feel.
“No,” I shrug diffidently, smiling at her as I get to my feet. “But I would like a coffee.” I pause on my way to her, noticing the way she's watching me keenly. “What?”
Dianna unfolds her arms, then gestures toward me with one hand sweeping through the air from head to toe.
“Look at you, Sophie…” she whistles. “You're not tired. You're healing every single wolf that walks through these doors. You're like a blessing to Red Moon.”
I snort as I grab her arm and pull her toward the kitchen. “I am still me, you know?”
“Yeah, the new and improved you. You're actually pretty intimidating for a human. Except, you're not actually human, are you?”
“No!” I chuckle as I grab two coffee mugs while Dianna turns the machine on. “But…it's still taking some getting used to all of this.”
“You're a natural,” Dianna huffs. “It's like you were born in the valley.”
The aroma of rich coffee smells like a routine we've both gotten used to in such a short time, but it feels extremely natural as she passes me a mug. Clutching it with both hands, I close my eyes and inhale deeply, a memory of the staffroom at the hospital flashing through my mind.
As if on cue, Dianna asks, “Do you miss it? Your old life?”
I open my eyes, only for my brows to knit into a frown, and I shake my head slowly, almost hesitantly. “It's a strange thing. I mean, I had somewhat of a life out there. Friends—no—colleagues. And—” I break off with a sigh when I realize I didn't have much out there.
Work. Home. Rinse. Repeat.
I was merely existing, and the only time I ever felt real joy was when Damian and I had been dating.
I know I shouldn't put so much importance on a relationship, but from what I've learned about werewolves and fated mates, I understand now why the breakup hit me as hard as it did.
Dianna once explained what it was about, rejecting a fated mate. It's like a dagger to the heart, breaking the etheric cord that binds two souls.
It can even be fatal. And even if that's just theoretical, since fated mates were an unseen phenomenon, it almost felt deadly.
That's why the past two years were literal hell for me.
No human experiences that kind of pain.
But no human experiences the kind of love—
“No. I don't miss my old life,” I admit earnestly, feeling heat rise on my cheeks. I take a sip of my coffee, but Dianna doesn't stop watching me through narrowed eyes.
“Is it because of the valley, or because of Damian?”
My heart skips a nervous beat, and the heat on my cheeks rises to scorching levels. I want to avoid the question, but end up sighing instead.
“It's because of both,” I admit, biting my bottom lip as I turn away, facing the window now and watching as the man himself comes strolling toward the clinic cabin, two giggling kids in his arms, a smile on his face as he carries them into the clinic.
Right now, Damian appears to be the gentlest man I've ever seen, while his power, his sovereignty, remains quiet but present.
It's his most attractive trait—that quiet confidence which allows him to be supportive and lift others. He knows who he is, what he is, and there's no need for him to fight for dominance. He exudes that authority without even trying.
And my body’s reaction is a natural response to his presence, his mere existence.
I sigh as I turn back to Dianna, only to find her still watching me intently.
“He feels the same way about you,” she whispers, and I shake my head with hesitance, or maybe resistance.
“He doesn’t—”
“Good morning!” Damian beams from the doorway, and I purse my lips, mulling over what Dianna just said and my response to it.
Why do I feel insecure about his feelings for me?
Maybe it’s because, with everything that’s been happening, Damian hasn’t attempted to—
“I'm sorry….”
Damian's voice, his apology, pulls me out of my thoughts and prompts me to lift my head.
“Huh?”
“I’m gonna get back to class,” Dianna says, offering her brother a smile. “James is showing the kids how to fly kites today.”
“Have fun,” Damian tells her, wiggling his brows suggestively, which earns him a jab to his ribs before Dianna leaves. Damian chuckles as he turns toward me, but a frown flits over my face because I’m confused.
With his sister, he’s so playful, but when it comes to me, he’s so…so serious.
I probably only have myself to blame for that. I was the one who put a mountain of distance between us.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t come to the clinic sooner. The council…” his voice tapers off, and he sighs with relief. “The council is convinced that you don't need training anymore,” he continues, pausing to give me some time to process this.
Just a few days ago, they'd been adamant that training was a requirement, but now they've changed their minds. I return my eyes to my hands around the coffee mug, frowning.
I can't blame the council for changing their minds, and neither can I blame them for wanting me to train initially. This firepower is unknown territory for everyone involved—myself included—and we can't be sure about how it works.
Not unless I gain some form of control over them.
“I still want to go through with training,” I respond with a sigh, curling my fingers toward my palms. “I have to understand these powers better. I can’t rely on the threat alone to trigger them. Conan is right—”
“You don’t know Conan the way I do. Don’t listen to him.”
“But he has a point, Damian,” I insist. “I am a danger if I don’t know how to control my powers. You know how to control yours. So, teach me.”
Damian stares at my face for a long moment, and I’m not sure if it’s because of reluctance or hesitation, but he nods slowly. “If it’s what you want, Sophie…I mean, you have to be sure, and not feel pressured.”
“It’s what I want, Damian,” I assure him, to which he nods.
“Then we’ll start with training tomorrow.”
“Good.”
There’s a moment of silence that stretches between us, as we stare into each other’s eyes, and the mate bond seems to hum beneath my skin, my heart pulling as if there’s a magnetic force that wants to draw me closer to him.
It takes every ounce of consciousness not to cave and set the mug down and walk over toward him and fall into his arms, but there’s a restraint he’s showing that keeps me away.
“I should get back to the patients,” I say, and Damian clears his throat.
“Yes, right, the patients,” he stammers, blinking as if he’d forgotten how to blink altogether. “I’m gonna go check up on my soldiers at the training camp. See you back home tonight.”
I nod, the silence nearly deafening with all the things I want to say, combined with the things I hope he wants to say. Maybe I’m just making things up in my mind, or letting my insecurities get the best of me, but I look forward to our training.