Damon's POV
Pain. Living thing.
Writhed under my skin. Magma. Vision blurring. Red creeping in. Swallowing the world.
Feral State. Level 3.
Sat on the edge of my bed. Penthouse. Clutching a glass of water. Shattered. Water spilled. Mixed with blood. Didn't feel it.
"Sir." Elias's voice. Distant. Terrified. "Doctors preparing the sedative..."
"No sedatives." Snarled. Voice a wreck. Gravel. Glass. "Don't work. Nothing works."
Stood up. Swaying. Room spun.
The fight. Vault. Adrenaline. Her scent.
Triggered madness. Faster. Triggered something else.
Craving.
Deep. Hollow hunger. Nothing to do with food. Everything to do with her. Knee in the liver. Billion-dollar serum.
Lyra.
Name made the wolf howl. Not anger. Need.
Source. Mate. Cure.
"I need..." Gasped. Leaned against wall. Plaster cracked. Fingers.
"What do you need, Alpha?" Elias. Stepping back. "Blockers?"
"Soup." Whispered.
Elias blinked. "Soup? Sir, chefs left—"
"Not their soup." Growled. Pushed off wall. Stumbling. Elevator. Legs heavy. Lead. "Hers."
"Hers? You mean... neighbor?"
Didn't answer. Hit button. 40th floor.
Descent agonizing. Hammer blow to skull. Wolf clawing. Hunt. Kill.
Control. Chanted. Do not kill her. Do not scare her.
Beg.
Elevator pinged.
Stumbled out. Hallway quiet. Smelled of floor wax. And...
Lavender. Rosemary. Sage.
Scent hit me. Physical wave. Knees buckled. Apartment 40-A.
Walked. Heavily. Dragging feet.
Didn't knock. Leaned forehead against wood.
"Lyra." Rasped.
Silence.
"I know you're in there." Voice barely audible. "Hear your heart. Fast. Scared."
Click. Click. Slide.
Locks disengaged.
Door opened. Crack. Chain still on.
Amber eye. Suspicious. Guarded.
"What do you want, Damon?" Steady voice. Smelled adrenaline. Tactical suit lingering.
"Help."
Hardest word.
Slid down doorframe. Strength giving out. Sitting on welcome mat. Looking up. Through the crack.
"Dying, Lyra."
Stared at me. Sweat drenching shirt. Black veins pulsing on neck. Blood from nose.
"Good." Cold. "Deserve it."
Started to close door.
"Please." Whispered.
Not command. Surrender.
Door stopped.
Looked at me. Really looked. Flicker of woman from dungeon. Washed wounds. Pitied beast.
"Idiot." Muttered.
Undid chain.
Door opened fully.
"Get in. Before you bleed on my carpet."
Crawled inside. Literally. Couldn't stand.
Apartment warm. Cozy. Smelled of home. Toys scattered. Headless doll. Circuit board. Plastic sword.
Guided me to sofa. Collapsed.
"Don't touch anything." Ordered. "Don't look at files."
Didn't look. Closed eyes. Breathing.
Kitchen. Clink of pot. Hiss of gas.
returned.
Held bowl. Steam rose. Wolf whimpered. Gratitude.
Chicken broth. Ginger. Secret ingredient.
"Drink." Shoved bowl into hands.
Drank.
Liquid fire. Burned throat. Good burn. Chased away cold rot.
Greedily. Slurping. No manners. Need.
Pain receded. Vision cleared. Black veins faded.
Finished. Sighed. Long. Shuddering exhale. Emptied lungs. Six years of tension.
"Better?" Standing over me. Crossed arms.
"Yes." Eyelids heavy. Sedative strong. "Drugged it."
"Obviously. Not having feral Alpha in living room without insurance."
Chuckled weakly. "Smart girl."
Looked up. Oversized pajamas. Messy hair. No makeup. No mask.
Beautiful.
"You're the Shadow Lord." Not a question.
"And you're a junkie." Countered. "We all have flaws."
"Why didn't you kill me?" Asked. "Had the shot."
Looked away. "Kids need father. Even monster."
"Only reason?"
Didn't answer. Took empty bowl.
"Go home, Damon. Soup won't last forever."
"Don't want to go." Mumbled. High. Soft cushions. "Cold upstairs."
"Not my problem."
"Lyra." Reached out. Grabbed hem of pajama shirt. "Stay."
Froze.
"Right here." Softly.
"No." Closed eyes. Drug pulling. "Stay... forever."
Felt hand brush hair. Gentle. Hesitant.
"Sleep, wolf." Whispered. "Tomorrow, enemies again."
"Okay." Breathed. "Tomorrow."
But tonight... safe.
Drifted off. Lavender. Heartbeat.
Nightmare over.
For now.