Chapter 35: Fog

The healer finished binding Sofia’s head with a soft linen wrap. She turned to Damien, her expression worried but calm. “The blow was heavy, Alpha. She will be fine, but when she wakes, her mind will be in a fog. She will likely forget the last few years for a little while. Don’t worry—it’s only for a few hours. Once she sleeps and wakes again, her true memory will return.”

Damien nodded, his throat tight. After the healer left, the room fell into a suffocating silence. He sat in a chair pulled close to the bed, watching her. For the first time in months, he wasn’t looking at her as a traitor or a slave. He was looking at her as the girl he had loved in secret for years.

A soft groan broke the quiet. Sofia’s eyes fluttered open. They were hazy at first, but then they cleared, landing on Damien.

She didn’t flinch. She didn’t look at him with hate. Instead, a small, weary smile touched her lips. “Damien,” she whispered softly.

Damien felt a pang in his chest so sharp he could barely breathe. He didn’t know what to say. He knew she wasn’t herself; she was living in a past that no longer existed.

Sofia tried to sit up, her brow furrowed as she looked down at the scratchy maid uniform. She touched the bandage on her head. “What happened? My head… it hurts so much.”

Damien opened his mouth, but the truth felt like a poison he couldn’t swallow. Before he could speak, Sofia’s eyes filled with tears.

“It was my mother, wasn’t it?” she choked out, her voice trembling. “She… she got angry again. Why can’t I remember it? Why does she hate me so much, Damien? Why am I never good enough for her?”

She began to cry—deep, soul-aching sobs. Damien sat on the edge of the bed, his heart breaking. He realized her mind had filled in the blanks with the trauma she already knew. She thought her abusive mother had done this to her. He just stared at her, paralyzed by the fact that he was now the monster in her life, just like her mother had been.

“You have a concussion, Sofia,” he said, his voice sounding hollow and strange to his own ears. “That’s why you can’t remember. Just… just rest.”

But Sofia wasn’t listening. Her eyes moved to his chest and shoulders, seeing the raw scratches and bruises from his fight with Matthew. “Oh no,” she gasped, her crying pausing for a moment. “You’re injured. You were trying to protect me, weren’t you?”

“Sofia, don’t—”

Before he could stop her, she slid out of the bed. Her feet hit the floor, and she stumbled, but she pushed through the pain. She walked straight to the cabinet in the corner. Without a second of hesitation, she pulled out the first-aid box.

Damien swallowed hard, the sound loud in the quiet room. She knew exactly where the box was. She had been here so many times before everything went wrong—bringing him tea, laughing with him, tending to his training wounds.

She walked back to him, smiling warmly. She sat on the bed beside him, opening the box with shaking hands. “Stay still,” she whispered, her voice full of the tenderness he thought he had destroyed. “I’ll fix it.”

Sofia dipped a clean cloth into the antiseptic, her touch as light as a feather. She began to dab at the red gashes on his shoulder, her brow pinched in concentration. To her, this was a Tuesday night three years ago, and the man sitting before her was her best friend and the man she had secretly loved.

“You’re always getting into trouble for me,” she murmured, a small, sad smile playing on her lips. “But it won’t be like this forever, Damien. Just a few more months.”

Damien sat like a statue, his muscles corded and tense. Every time her soft fingers brushed his skin, it felt like a brand.

“Once you take over from your father and become Alpha,” she continued, her voice gaining a bit of strength, “everything will change. You promised, remember? You said you’d make me one of your pack warriors. I’ve been practicing so hard. I know I’m not as fast as the others, but I’m strong.”

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with a heartbreaking innocence. “Once I’m your warrior, I can finally leave my parents’ house. I won’t have to hide from my mother’s temper anymore. I’ll have a place where I belong. A place where I’m safe… with you.”

Damien swallowed hard, the lump in his throat feeling like a stone. He wanted to scream. He wanted to tell her that the future she was dreaming of was already dead.

He was the Alpha now. But he hadn’t made her a warrior. He hadn’t given her a place of honor or safety. He had taken her freedom, dressed her in a servant’s rags, and forced her to scrub floors until her hands bled. The “safe place” she imagined with him had become her private hell.

“Sofia, stop,” he rasped, his voice thick with a mix of desire and devastating guilt.

“Don’t be modest,” she teased gently, moving the cloth to a cut on his chest. She leaned in closer, her scent—vanilla and rain—filling his senses. “I know you’ll be a great Alpha. You’re too kind to be anything else. You’ll look after everyone. Especially me.”

She leaned her forehead against his shoulder for a brief second, a gesture of pure, trusting affection. “I can’t wait for you to become Alpha.”

Damien shut his eyes tight, a single, hot tear stinging the corner of his eye. He looked at her—this woman who saw a hero where a monster now sat. He realized that in a few hours, the fog would lift. She would remember the cold shower, the prevention pill, the hunger, and the way he had just used her against the wall.

He reached out, his hand hovering over her hair, wanting to pull her into his arms and beg for a forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve, but he held himself back.

Damien’s heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. The weight of his secrets and his cruelty felt like a mountain between them, yet here she was, tending to his wounds with the same gentle love she had always shown him.

Sofia paused, her hand trembling slightly as she held the cloth against his chest. She didn’t look up, her gaze fixed on the marks she was cleaning. “I have a confession, Damien,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackle of the fireplace.

Damien held his breath. “What is it, Sofia?”

“I love you,” she said, finally lifting her eyes to meet his. They were swimming with tears and a raw vulnerability that destroyed him. “I’ve been in love with you my whole life. I was always too scared to tell you because… look at me. I’m not like the other girls in the pack. I thought you could never find someone like me attractive. I thought you just saw me as a friend to protect.”

The irony was a jagged blade in Damien’s gut. He reached out, his hand cupping her face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. The anger he had carried for years vanished, replaced by the truth he had tried to bury.

“How could you say that?” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion. “Sofia, do you have any idea how attractive I find you? Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

Sofia blinked, shocked by the sudden intensity in his voice. “Damien…”

“I’m serious,” he continued, his words pouring out like a dam breaking. “Have you never noticed how men stop and stare when you walk past? Have you never seen your own face in the mirror? You’re beautiful, Sofia. And your body…”

His gaze raked over her, remembering the curves he had held so tightly and cruelly that morning. “I love your curves. Do you know what it does to me when you wear those fitted gowns or those pants that show off your hips? You’re soft, you’re lush, and you’re more woman than anyone else in this pack. I’ve spent years wanting you. Years wanting to touch every inch of you.”

He was telling her everything he had been too proud and too scared to say three years ago. He was confessing his obsession to the version of her that still believed he was a good man.

“You are a goddess, Sofia,” he whispered, his face inches from hers. “And I have been a fool for ever letting you think otherwise.”

Sofia’s breath hitched. The love in her eyes flared into something hungry. She didn’t wait for him to say another word. She leaned in, her hands tangling in his messy hair, and pressed her lips against his in a kiss that was desperate, sweet, and full of the years of longing they had both hidden.

Damien groaned into her mouth, pulling her closer until her soft curves were crushed against his hard chest. For a moment, nothing existed—only them.

Sofia pulled back just an inch, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed a deep rose. She was breathless, her eyes searching his. “That was my first kiss,” she whispered, a shy but proud smile on her face. “I always wanted you to have it. I didn’t want anyone else.”

Damien felt a physical stab of pain in his chest. If only she knew, he thought. If only she knew that the girl from this morning had been treated like a slave, her “firsts” taken in an act of rage and hate. But here, in this temporary fog, she was giving him her heart all over again.

Before he could pull away out of guilt, she leaned back in, kissing him with a new, sudden boldness. She climbed onto his lap, her rounded thighs straddling his waist. Damien’s large hands acted on instinct, sliding down to grab the lush curves of her body, pulling her flush against his growing hardness.

Sofia gasped against his lips, feeling the power of his cock beneath her. In her mind, she was a virgin, terrified and excited all at once. “Damien,” she whimpered softly, “please… I don’t want to wait anymore. Make me a woman. Make me yours. Fuck me.”

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