I sit staring at the table, specifically Sophie’s unfinished meal, listening to the sounds of her movements as she enters her bedroom and shuts the door.
There’s still more movement, some shuffling about the floorboards, until it stops, and I can tell she’s gone to bed.
I let out a drawn-out sigh, as if I’d been holding my breath until I was certain she was safe.
Safe from me?
Maybe.
I guess that’s what this is about. Protecting her from me. She can take care of herself when it comes to the demons—she’s proven that time and again—but when it comes to me, tous,she’s always getting her heart broken.
I’d hate to see it happen again.
But I think I’m doing just that by keeping my distance. I saw the sadness in her eyes just now, saw the pain tearing through her while she tries to fight it. I saw her heart breaking all over again, and I hate myself for it.
I slide the chair back and get to my feet, my ankles feeling like they’re being held by the leaded weights I’ve secured around them with my hesitation. Grunting, I drag myself to the bar cabinet in the kitchen, muttering a string of curses at myself as I pour out a glass of whiskey.
The spicy sweetness of oak travels down my throat, burning my irritation away only mildly before the liquor burns out of my system thanks to my wolf’s quick-working metabolism. I pour myself another glass, then another,staggering back to the table for my fourth. Or the rest of this bottle.
I’m drinking myself to shit. That’s what I’m doing. Or at least, attempting to do that, so I don’t wallow in self-loathing simply because I’m too much of a coward to take things further with Sophie. Maybe it’s because I promised myself that I wouldn’t until she was ready. But then, didn’t she make it sound like she is?
The bottle is empty, and I need another one, my head spinning, but not enough to push the intrusive thoughts away. I’d been so close to kissing her the other night, and now all I can do is think about her lips, imagining what would have happened if we weren’t interrupted.
Groaning, I stand up to get another bottle, pulling open the cabinet door and sulking behind it as I choose my next fighter. I’m still deliberating between vodka and another whiskey bottle when I hear padding footsteps approaching. I stick my head out to the side, only to see Sophie eyeing me suspiciously.
“Oh, so now you’re punishing yourself…” Sophie scoffs before she proceeds to the sink, glancing at the empty bottle on the table as she passes it. But it’s like she can read my thoughts and feelings even without telepathy.
“I’m not punishing myself,” I defend, brows furrowing as I step away from the cabinet and turn to face her, bracing my hands on the counter on either side of me, acting calm when inside, I’m losing my mind.
She’s wearing a silk nightdress in a shade of white that softens her features while adding to her ethereal allure. Gazing at her instantly sobers me up, but sends me into a spiral of sinful thoughts.
She turns to me with a glass of water in hand, eyes burning into my soul as if she still reads my mind, and I feel like I’m being accused of a heinous crime.
“I can’t do this anymore…” she says, shaking her head as she takes an angry sip of water. “I can’t.”
“You…do you want to leave?” I ask, voice trembling the way my heart does.
“Leave?!” Sophie exclaims with a bitter, raw chuckle as she flings her glass into the sink and turns to me, stepping closer and narrowing her eyes at me. Heat seems to permeate from her pores, and it feels like anger.
“I am here, Damian! I am right here! I accepted everything that was needed of me, and I chose to stay here, because of you,” Sophie huffs, tucking her hair behind her ears with rigorous force as she narrows her eyes at me. “Training. The clinic. The demons. All of it. For you! And you have the nerve to tell me that you’re afraid? You’re a coward, Damian. That’s what you are.”
She breathes as if a weight has lifted from her shoulders, but she doesn’t stop glaring at me fiercely. All I can do is stare at her thoughtfully, blinking as I try to find the right response. I deserve it. Every bitter word of resentment, I deserve it all and so much more. But when she’s standing right in front of me, challenging me with that look in her eyes, and tempting me with the scent of her pheromones that fill the air, something inside me shifts.
“You’re right, I am a coward,” I say, stepping forward and towering over her until she has to crane her neck to stay locked with my eyes. “But it’s only ‘cause if I kissed you again, I wouldn’t be able to stop.”
Her breath hitches, and the anger in her eyes instantly extinguishes, her lips softening when they part. I take another step forward, shielding her face from the overhead light so that the only thing she sees is the genuine desire in my eyes.
“Damian…” she breathes, flustered as she blinks at me.
“Yes, Sophie?”
“I never said it would be a problem. If you never stopped, I mean.”
She gulps hard as I reach a hand up to cup her cheek, pupils dilating, her lips parting on a sigh as my fingers touch her cheek, sliding back to cradle her face in my palm.
“I know it isn’t a problem for you…” I whisper as I lean forward, our eyes locked, breaths mingling in the air between us. “But it’s a problem for me. You turn me into a madman, Sophie…crazy…I am wild for you, don’t you see?”
Sophie leans into my touch, nuzzling her face into my palm and letting out a breath that sounds and feels more like a sigh of relief. That’s all it takes—her one breath—that undoes me, and I crush my lips to hers in a fervent, passionate kiss that feels like a reunion between our souls. Our lips and tongues dance in sync as I push her up against the kitchen counter, the beast unleashing from deep within with a rumbling growl that pushes itself from my chest out and into Sophie’s mouth.
