Chapter 20: He Came

Sofia was on the floor, her clothes torn, and above her was the slave master trying to force his way on her.

Damien froze in the doorway.

The room felt like it stopped breathing.

Sofia’s eyes lifted—and when she saw Damien, they widened in shock. Fear and disbelief mixed in them.

“D-Damien…” she whispered.

The slave master turned slowly, his face going pale when he realized who was standing in the doorway.

“Alpha….”

Damien’s wolf roared inside him.

Rage flooded his veins so fast it made his vision darken.

“What,” Damien said slowly, his voice shaking with pure fury, “are you doing?”

The slave master stepped back, hands raised. “I—I was just punishing her, Alpha—she disobeyed—”

Damien moved.

One second he was at the door.

The next, he had the man by the throat and slammed him into the wall so hard the whole room shook.

“You touched her,” Damien growled.

The slave master gasped for air, feet barely touching the floor. “N-No—I swear—”

Damien’s eyes burned.

“I smelled your filth on her,” he growled and slammed the slave master’s face into the wall.

Once.

Twice.

Blood splattered across the stone.

The man screamed.

Damien’s wolf was howling inside him, begging to tear, to rip, to kill.

“You think you can touch what is mine?” Damien snarled, slamming the man again. “You think you get to lay your filthy hands on her and breathe another second?”

The slave master was choking, barely conscious.

“P-please—Alpha—”

Damien raised his fist again—

“Damien!” Sofia cried weakly.

He froze.

Her voice was thin and shaking, but it cut straight through his rage.

“You… you will kill him…” she whispered.

Damien turned slowly.

Sofia was still on the floor, her body trembling, her arms trying to cover herself, her torn clothes barely hiding her. She looked terrified—not just of the slave master, but of Damien too.

Something in his chest cracked.

He released the man, letting him fall to the ground in a coughing, bloody heap.

Damien sucked in a sharp breath, forcing the rage back down.

“Guards!” he roared.

Heavy footsteps rushed toward the storeroom.

“Take this filth to the dungeon,” Damien ordered coldly. “Chain him. Starve him. And if he survives the night, I’ll decide what to do with him myself.”

The guards dragged the slave master away as he screamed and begged.

When the door finally closed, the room fell quiet.

Damien turned back to Sofia.

Her upper body was exposed. Her skin was pale. Her lips were split. Her eyes were wet and scared.

She was shaking so hard she could barely sit up.

Damien took one slow step toward her.

Then another.

“Sofia…” he said quietly, his voice no longer angry—only rough.

She flinched.

And that hurt him more than anything else had.

He stopped moving.

“Are you that scared of me?” he said through gritted teeth.

Her eyes stayed on him, wide and full of fear.

Damien slowly removed his coat and held it out to her, keeping his distance.

“Cover yourself,” he said softly.

Sofia reached out with shaking hands and took the coat.

It felt heavy. Warm. But it smelled like him.

She wrapped it tightly around her body, pulling it over her bare skin like a shield. Even with how sour their relationship was, his smell still gave her that comforting aura it usually did. She never told him, but Sofia usually stole Damien’s clothes whenever he was training and wasn’t watching. After training, Damien would look for his shirt but wouldn’t find it. He would assume one of the other warriors stole it, and since he had many, he never bothered. But unknown to him, Sofia used it as a pillow at night. Well, that was a secret only she knew.

Damien watched her, his heart sinking.

Her lips were split. There was dried blood at the corner of her mouth. Red marks were already forming on her arms. Her shoulders were shaking, not just from cold—but from shock.

Even with her chubby figure, she still looked small.

Not like a criminal. Not like a murderer.

Just a broken girl sitting on a dirty floor, trying not to fall apart.

Something twisted painfully in Damien’s chest.

Sofia felt his gaze on her and slowly lifted her eyes and realized he wasn’t looking at her with anger. He wasn’t looking at her with hatred.

He was looking at her like he didn’t understand what he was seeing. He was looking at her the way the old Damien did…

Her lips parted slightly. “I…” she tried to speak, but no words came out.

Damien looked away.

Fast.

He turned his back to her and took a few steps away, dragging a hand through his hair. His breathing was rough, uneven.

He couldn’t look at her.

If he did, he knew he would break.

So he walked away.

His boots scraped against the floor as he left the storeroom without another word, the door swinging shut behind him with a dull thud.

Sofia flinched at the sound.

For a few seconds, she just sat there, wrapped in his coat, breathing in shallow, shaky breaths. Her whole body still felt like it was trembling from the inside out.

Slowly, she pushed herself up.

Every movement felt painful. Her head throbbed.

She stepped out of the storeroom, eyes down, Damien’s coat wrapped around her. The workers in the yard had gone silent. Some stared. Some looked away. No one dared to speak.

Sofia kept walking.

Down the dusty path. Past the tools. Past the work lines.

All the way back toward the small room she had woken up in earlier.

When she reached it, her hands were shaking so badly she almost dropped the handle. She pushed the door open and went inside.

She walked to the bed and sat down slowly, still wrapped in the coat. It felt safe. It smelled like him.

Before she could even begin to process what had happened…

A knock landed on the door.

Sofia froze.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

She slowly got up and walked to the door, her hand hovering for a moment before she opened it.

Matthew stood there.

His eyes widened the moment he saw her.

“Sofia…” he said softly. “I just found out what happened. Are you—” His voice broke. “Are you okay?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

Mathew stepped closer without thinking and gently lifted a hand to her cheek, brushing away a tear that had slipped down. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “You didn’t deserve any of this.”

Sofia’s lips trembled.

But before she could speak—

A cold, familiar presence filled the hallway. Matthew stiffened.

Slowly, he turned.

Damien was standing there.

His face was unreadable. His eyes were dark.

They went straight to Mathew’s hand on Sofia’s cheek.

The air between them went tight and suffocating.

“Take your hand off her,” Damien said through clenched teeth.

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