"Damien… you are here…" Sofia's voice shook as soon as the gate opened. Her teeth chattered, her blue dress clung to her body, and her wet hair stuck to her face. She gripped the bars like her life depended on it, her lips pale, her breathing shaky.
Damien walked in with a hard look on his face. His boots splashed in the water on the floor. He stopped in front of her cage and frowned, staring down at her.
"Please…" Sofia whispered, her voice breaking. "Please, Damien, you have to believe me. I didn't push her. I swear I didn't."
Her words came out in sobs.
Damien's jaw tightened. "Don't lie to me," he said coldly. "I saw the video. I saw you push her."
Sofia shook her head wildly, water dripping from her hair. "No! That video is a lie!" Sofia snapped, her voice trembling but fierce. "She grabbed me first—you know it. They cut the truth out. Damien, look at me—do you really believe I would ever hurt her?"
Damien's hands curled into fists. His wolf stirred inside him, restless, whispering that something was off. That she didn't smell like a liar.
But Damien ignored the pull of his wolf. His wolf had always liked Sofia, so it was easy to dismiss the reaction as nothing unusual.
Forcing the thought away, he leaned in, his green eyes burning with rage. "You will pay for this, Sofia… not only for killing Lola but for what you did to me."
Sofia gasped. "What I did to you? What are you talking about? I'd never hurt you, Damien. Never."
His chest ached as he bent closer to the bars, his voice rough and edged with pain. "You think I don't know," he growled. "I know, Sofia… I know exactly what you did."
Sofia's brows pulled together, confusion clear on her face. She didn't understand. What was he saying? Hurt him? How? She would never… Damien had been her whole world once.
"Damien, what are you talking about?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
His teeth ground together as anger flared in his chest. He wanted to spit the truth at her, throw it in her face—the wound she left in him two years ago. But the words caught on his tongue. His pride wouldn't let them out.
Instead, he leaned in close, his green eyes burning with fury.
"You'll die tomorrow," he hissed. "And when you do, I'll paint the walls of this pack with your blood."
Sofia's lips parted in shock, her body trembling harder as her breath broke in sobs.
Damien straightened, his jaw tight, and turned on his heel. His boots splashed in the shallow water as he walked toward the door.
But then his wolf stirred.
"Damien," Lucas growled in his mind, sharp and worried. "She won't make it through the night in this cage. She'll drown before morning."
Damien's fists clenched. "I don't care," he muttered under his breath.
"You care," his wolf snapped back. "You want her alive. Don't lie to yourself."
Damien froze at the doorway, his chest heaving. His wolf's voice wouldn't let go. He shut his eyes, fighting against it, but in the end, the words left his mouth before he could stop them.
"Take her out of the water cage," he ordered the guards without turning around. His voice was cold, authoritative. "Put her in a normal cell. She needs to be alive for the beheading tomorrow."
The guards bowed their heads quickly. "Yes, sir."
Damien walked away. His excuse was clear: she had to live until her execution.
But deep down, he knew the truth.
It wasn't about the execution.
It was because no matter how much he told himself he hated her… he couldn't bear the thought of Sofia dying before tomorrow.
Damien's boots echoed against the polished floor as he stormed back toward his wing. His shirt was still stiff with dried blood, his chest tight with rage and something else he couldn't explain.
When he reached his door, he froze.
Matthew was waiting.
Damien's jaw clenched. Without a word, he pushed the door open, and Matthew followed him inside.
The room was dim, lit only by the glow of the fireplace. Damien ripped off his bloodstained shirt and tossed it aside. The smell of Lola's dried blood clung to his skin, making his stomach churn.
He went straight for the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. His hands shook slightly as he poured himself a glass, the amber liquid sloshing inside. He downed half of it in one gulp before slamming the glass onto the table.
Matthew's eyes followed him carefully. His voice was low and cautious.
"Damien… something's wrong."
Damien stilled, his shoulders tense.
Matthew stepped closer. "The video—it was too clean. Too perfect. You and I both know how those cameras glitch, how they miss angles. But this one? It showed exactly what they wanted us to see."
Damien's jaw tightened as he slowly turned to Matthew, his green eyes darkening.
"And you think what, Matthew?" he growled. "That she's innocent? That Sofia didn't push her?"
Matthew didn't flinch. "I'm saying something isn't right. You're letting your anger blind you. You saw her face, Damien. You heard her voice. She wasn't lying."
A muscle in Damien's jaw twitched. He barked a sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it.
"I knew it," he spat. "I knew you've always liked her."
Matthew's brows furrowed, but Damien's anger only grew.
His teeth ground together. His wolf stirred, restless, but he shoved it down. Deep inside, the jealousy he'd buried clawed its way back. He remembered how Sofia's face used to light up when Matthew made her laugh. How sometimes she'd smile at him in ways he never liked. He remembered hating it then, hating the twist in his chest every time Matthew stood too close to her. The same ugly feeling was flaring now.
He turned away, pouring himself another drink.
"You're blinded, Matthew," Damien spat. "You can't see her for what she is. But I can. She'll die tomorrow… and I'll make sure of it."
For the first time, Matthew's calmness cracked, his voice snapping with frustration.
"You're a fool, Damien! You're so blinded by your pain—by what happened two years ago—that you can't even see what's in front of you! Something isn't right, and you know it!"
Damien's hand tightened around the glass so hard it threatened to shatter. His wolf stirred inside him restlessly, torn, but Damien shoved it back.
His eyes narrowed, burning with anger. "Leave, Matthew. Before I forget you're my friend."
Matthew's jaw tightened, but he didn't move.
"I'm not leaving, Damien. Not until you listen."
"I said leave," Damien growled, stepping closer. His green eyes burned, his fists trembling at his sides.
Matthew stood his ground. "No. You're so blinded by anger that you can't see the truth. That video was too perfect, too clean. Something isn't right, and you know it!"
Before Damien could think, rage exploded in him. He grabbed Matthew by the collar and slammed him hard against the wall. The shelves rattled, and a glass shattered on the floor.
"Don't you dare question me!" Damien snarled, his face inches from Matthew's. "Don't you dare defend her!"
Matthew shoved back, the two of them locked in a deadly stare, their wolves pressing at the surface. The air grew thick with power, hot and heavy, as if the room itself would split apart if one of them let go.
For a heartbeat, it seemed Damien might actually attack his own brother-in-arms.
Then—
A thud!
Someone pounded on the door. "Sir, Damien! Is everything alright?"
It was a guard.
The sound broke the moment. Both men froze, breaths sharp, jaws tight. Damien's grip loosened, but his glare stayed fixed on Matthew.
Matthew's voice dropped low, almost a whisper. "One day, Damien… you're going to see you're wrong."
Damien let go of him with a shove, his chest heaving.
"Get out," he snapped.
Matthew straightened, his jaw locked, his eyes still fixed on Damien. At last, he turned and walked out, leaving Damien in the wreckage of his rage.
Damien sat in his chair after Matthew left, the firelight flickering across the room. His chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths. He poured himself another drink, but it didn't help.
Every time he closed his eyes, he didn't see Lola.
He saw Sofia.
Her wet hair plastered to her face, her trembling lips, her voice breaking as she begged him.
His jaw clenched so hard it ached. He shot up from his seat, pacing the room, his fists curling at his sides.
"Damn you, Sofia," he growled, slamming his fist against the wall. The stone cracked from the force, but the burn inside his chest didn't fade.
He couldn't stay here. Not in this suffocating room. Not with her voice echoing in his head.
Grabbing his cloak, Damien stormed out of his chambers and into the night. His boots hit the dirt hard as he crossed the courtyard and pushed into the woods. The cool air hit against his skin, but it wasn't enough. He needed space. He needed to breathe.
Branches snapped under his feet as he walked deeper into the dark forest, muttering curses under his breath, trying to outrun the torment inside him.
Then—he froze.
Up ahead, in a clearing near the road, stood a figure.
A lady.
Dressed in a black jumpsuit, her head covered. Her height, her build… everything about her was—
"Lola…" Damien whispered, his blood running cold.