~Lyra~
I know you’re probably wondering why Damon wasn’t fast enough. Why he didn’t grab me, shield me, kill her before she even got close. And trust me, I get it. You’re pissed. You’re screaming at the ceiling right now like.
“How the hell did the big bad Alpha just stand there while his girl got ambushed by a coke-dusted ex with a death wish?” I get it. I really do.
But you need to breathe and sit your ass down because I’m telling you now-don’t be mad at Damon. Please don’t. If you were in that room, if you had felt what I felt, if you had watched everything go down the way it did, you’d understand.
The thing here is that it happened so fucking fast. Too fast.
I didn’t even see it coming. One second I was laughing, full-on throwing verbal knives at Camilla like the little cocky Omega I am, still dripping, still panting, still high on the way Damon had been holding my breast.
My pussy was literally still pulsing from the sound of his voice in my ear. And then the next second-boom. My whole world cracked in half.
That bitch slammed something into my nose, and my body betrayed me. I gasped. I inhaled. I didn’t even mean to, but the powder went up fast and fierce, and everything went blurry, hot, and loud in my head.
So no, I won’t blame Damon. I won’t hate him for not stopping it. I won’t accuse him of freezing. Because you know what he did?
The second he realized what happened? He turned into death. Straight-up destruction. And he made sure she never took another breath again.
Well yippee that bitch is dead. A moment of silence for her y’all. May her soul rest in chaos not peace. lol.
Now back to my story, So if you’re mad at him, let it go. I’m not. I’m alive. I’m fine. I’m awake now.
We were back in the house. Not beside a corpse. But in Damon’s room. His bed. Our space. I felt his presence before I even opened my eyes. His arms. His warmth. His voice.
“Lyra,” he whispered.
My lips parted slowly. My throat burned. My body felt like it had been dragged through fire and ice and then dunked in fog, but I found the strength.
“Damon,” I whispered.
His hand was on my cheek instantly. Gentle, Rough and Warm. All the things he always is. I opened my eyes and met his, and I swear, I saw the entire fucking universe collapse and rebuild in his gaze.
“Hi, kitten,” he breathed, like the sound of my voice had just pulled him back from the edge of hell.
“Hi, baby.”
He was staring at me like he couldn’t believe I was really awake. Like he was afraid to blink in case I disappeared again. “How do you feel?” he asked as he reached to cup my face.
“I am so sorry I didn’t react faster than I should have. I am very sorry, baby. I should have seen it. I should’ve moved. I should’ve…”
“Stop,” I said softly, my fingers brushing his lips.noveldrama
He froze.
“You did what needed to be done,” I told him. “You didn’t just react. You ended it. You made sure she never got the chance to do it again. You didn’t hesitate. You saved me. That’s what matters.”
His throat bobbed like he was trying not to choke on emotion. I’d never seen Damon this wrecked. Right now, he wasn’t the big bad Alpha. He was just a man. A man who almost lost his girl.
“You were so still,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to mine. “Your body went limp. You weren’t breathing right. I thought I lost you. I swear to God, Lyra, I almost lost my fucking mind.”
I pressed my hand to his chest.
“You didn’t,” I said. “You didn’t lose me.”
“I’m fine,” I whispered as I tried to sit up, even though my head was spinning and my limbs felt like they’d been replaced with wet noodles.
My whole body felt like it had been tossed in a blender and then microwaved, but I was determined. I had to see him. I had to touch him. Damon was holding me like I was made of glass, but I could feel the tension in him. Like he wasn’t just scared-I mean, yeah, scared-but also… ashamed?
I reached out and cupped his face with my hand, my palm barely steady enough to not shake as I slid my thumb across his cheekbone. His skin was warm. His stubble was rough against my fingers. His eyes were so dark they looked almost black in the dim light of the room.
And then I noticed something.
His lashes were wet.
My brows furrowed and I tilted my head, squinting up at him as I blinked slowly through the fuzz still clouding my vision. “Were you crying?” I asked softly, staring right into his face like I was trying to catch him in the act of being human. And then-poof.
He stood up so fast I almost fell back into the bed.
He cleared his throat in that obnoxiously masculine way, the kind of throat-clearing that said, I’m a man and I definitely wasn’t just showing any emotion like a human being because I am made of steel and rage and testosterone and unprocessed trauma.
“Impossible, kitten,” he said, suddenly pacing like the floor was going to catch fire if he didn’t walk across it fifty times.” How would a big bad Alpha like me cry? Hmm? I kill. I destroy. I burn kingdoms and bury secrets. I don’t do…” He waved a hand dramatically. “I do not do any such thing as crying.’
I stared at him.
Seriously?
“
He was really out here pulling the ‘big strong Alpha who doesn’t cry’ card like I didn’t just see the man holding me like I was the last breath in his lungs not even five minutes ago.
“Damon,” I called out, my voice sharp but small, hoping he’d just stop for a second and look at me. He didn’t.
He kept talking like he was reading his own edgy mafia romance cover.
“I have carved out throats with my claws. I have torn apart packs. I’ve silenced men with one look. Crying?” He let out a short, dismissive sound. “Please. I do not have tear ducts. I have shadows. I have darkness. I have-“
“Damon,” I said again, louder this time, interrupting his tragic little villain monologue before he started quoting poetry and brooding out the window like we were in some gothic werewolf novel with rain tapping on the glass.
Then he stopped.
“I was scared, kitten.”
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