The door creaked open wider, and Jake stepped into his ancestral home , his cold, mocking smile illuminated by the faint glow of the symbols carved into the room. Damien moved instinctively, placing himself between Sofia and Jake, his body taut with tension, like a predator ready to pounce. "Well, well well," Jake drawled, his eyes flicking between Sofia perched on the desk and Damien standing protectively in front of her. "I thought you'd moved on, Sofia, but I didn't realize you were this eager to replace me." "What the hell are you doing here, Jake, are you stalking sofia?" Damien's voice was low and dangerous, his golden eyes starting to gleam with the telltale light of his wolf. Jake ignored him. He locked his gaze on Sofia. "You've changed," he said, his tone shifting from mockery to something almost reverent. "I can feel it. Whatever he's done to you, it's starting, isn't it?" Sofia swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the desk to steady herself. "You don't know what
“I knew you’d try something,” he said, his voice a growl. Sofia’s heart sank as he stepped closer, his claws flexing. “Jake, please, let me go” “Don’t,” he snapped, his eyes glowing with anger. “Don’t make me hurt you.” “You don’t have to do this,” she said, her voice trembling. “You can let me go. We can end this.” Jake laughed bitterly. “You think it’s that simple? You think I can just let you walk away? You don’t get it, Sofia. I’ve already sacrificed everything for you. My humanity. My soul. You’re all I have left. Jake looked away, his shoulders slumping. “My sister. She... she looked just like you. She was strong, like you. She never gave up, even when the world tried to break her. And I couldn’t save her. I let her die, Sofia. But I won’t let that happen to you.”
The drive back to the penthouse was silent. Sofia leaned against the car window, her body exhausted, her mind even more so. The city lights flickered past in a blur, but she barely registered them. The mark on her skin still pulsed faintly, a reminder that the battle wasn’t over. That something inside her was still changing. Damien sat beside her, his hands gripping the wheel tighter than necessary, his jaw locked in silent rage. He hadn’t spoken since they left the estate. He was too lost in his own thoughts, his own war. When they finally reached the penthouse, Damien helped her inside, his touch lingering longer than necessary as he steadied her. Neither of them spoke. Sofia exhaled slowly, looking around the familiar space, but something felt... different. As if the battle had followed them here, clinging to the walls, hiding in the shadows. She turned to Damien, her voice softer than she intended. “We made it.” His golden eyes flicked to her, unreadable, before he gave
Damien’s eyes darkened as he pulled away from Sofia, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that made her shiver. ”There’s a prophecy,” he began, his voice low and weighted with something unspoken. ”One that ties your bloodline to the origins of the curse. It’s been whispered among the packs for centuries, but I never thought—” He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if the words were too heavy to say aloud. Sofia’s heart raced, her pulse thrumming in her ears. ”My bloodline?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. ”What does that mean? How could my family be connected to this?” Damien’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin in a gesture that was both comforting and possessive. ”Your ancestors were not just human,” he explained, his tone grave. ”They were part of the first pack. The original werewolves. The curse didn’t just affect us—it started with them. And now, with you, it’s come full circle.” She felt as if the ground had shifted beneath h
"Damien," she finally said, turning to face him. He stood in the center of the room, his hands braced against the marble counter, his head bowed as if waging an internal war. At the sound of her voice, he lifted his gaze, and the moment their eyes met, Sofia felt it—that pull, sharp and inescapable. A muscle ticked in his jaw. "You should rest." She swallowed. "I don’t think I can." Damien pushed off the counter and stalked toward her with slow, deliberate steps. "You’re still shaking." Was she? She hadn’t even noticed. All she could focus on was him—on the way his golden eyes darkened, on the heat radiating from his body as he came closer. Her breath hitched when he reached her, towering over her, his presence overwhelming. His fingers ghosted over her arm, sending a shiver through her. "You're still burning up from the fight,"
The morning after their passionate night, Sofia had laid out her plan, telling Damien exactly what she thought they needed to do next. She hadn’t expected him to agree so easily, but he had. And that’s what led them here. Jake’s apartment had been abandoned for weeks, the air inside stale with the scent of something long forgotten. It felt wrong being here, stepping into a place that had once been his sanctuary. A place where she had once belonged. But that was a different life. A different Sofia. Determined, she sifted through his old belongings, searching for anything ....any clue that could explain why Jake had changed, why he had aligned himself with the hunters, and what it all meant for her and Damien. Jake's body was never found, but he is alive and watching them, waiting for the right moment to strike. He knows their every move, every weakness, and he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Sofia’s fingers trembled as she unfolded the old, faded parchment, th
The door creaked open, revealing a figure silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway. Sofia’s breath hitched, her fingers clutching the edge of the desk as Damien stepped in front of her, his dagger gleaming in the low light. “Who the hell are you?” Damien growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent shivers down Sofia’s spine. The figure stepped into the room, and Sofia’s eyes widened in disbelief. It was Jake. But... how? His body was never found, but she had assumed... Jake, his face pale and drawn but his eyes gleaming with a chilling intensity, let out a low chuckle. "well isn't it cozy ,Long time no see, Sofia." Damien’s grip on the dagger tightened, his body tensing as he moved to shield Sofia once more. "You’re dead," Damien snarled, his voice low and deadly. "How…?” Jake smirked, his gaze flicking between them, a cruel amusement in his eyes. "Let’s just say I have a knack for survival." He took a step forward, his eyes narrowing. "And I’v
The room was a blur of motion as Damien and Jake collided with the force of a storm, their bodies crashing into furniture and sending shards of wood flying through the air. Sofia stumbled back, clutching the dagger tightly in her hand, her chest heaving as she watched the two men exchange savage blows. Damien’s movements were fluid, almost predatory, every strike calculated and precise. Jake, on the other hand, fought with a reckless abandon, his desperation evident in the wild swings of his fists.Sofia’s heart raced, her mind spinning as she tried to make sense of the chaos unfolding before her. This can’t be happening, not again, she thought, her breath catching in her throat. She took a step forward, the dagger trembling in her grip, but before she could intervene, Damien grabbed her arm and pulled her close.“Stay back,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. His eyes were dark, almost feral, as they locked onto hers. “This is between me and him.”Sofia opened her mouth to pro
(Damien’s POV – Three Moons Without Her)Time moved differently without her.Slower.Heavier.Like the minutes were dragging their feet through wet concrete.Three days had passed since the ritual.Since I bound my name to another woman to deceive ancient spirits.Since I whispered goodbye into the ear of the only woman who ever made this cursed blood of mine feel worthy.I still felt her breath on my neck.Still caught her scent in the folds of the sheets.Still expected her to walk barefoot into the kitchen every morning with a sleepy smirk, teasing me about my obsessions.But she didn’t.And she wouldn’t.Not for three moons.And I was starting to forget how to breathe without her.---The penthouse was too quiet.I left it behind after the second day.I couldn’t walk into that room without hearing the machines beeping beside her bed. Without seeing the imprint of her body on the pillow. Without smelling cinnamon and honey on the linens.So I returned to the Blackwood manor—a place
(Damien’s POV – Past Mates, Unforgiven Memories)The curse didn’t begin with Sofia.She was just the first I refused to let go.But before her—There were others.And sometimes, when the world is too still, when my soul is too loud, their names crawl out from the cracks in my mind.Three names.Three scars.Each one carved into the walls of my heart.Each one a grave I never buried deep enough.---Liora.The first.I was eighteen. Still barely learning what it meant to lead, still finding my wolf, still believing the Blackwood curse was a lie whispered by cowards who didn’t know how to love hard enough.She was a scholar’s daughter.Quick-witted. Sharp-tongued.She challenged me at every turn. She was the first to look me in the eye and say:"You're going to be dangerous someday. I want to see it."We were bound by a youthful rush. Not fated. Not chosen by the moon. But something felt real. Enough that I trusted it.We danced between duties and stolen glances. I kissed her beneath th
(Damien’s POV – Past Reflections)The night after the ritual, I didn’t sleep.Couldn’t.Even with Sofia stabilized—her heart no longer at war with itself—I didn’t feel peace.Because I had offered another woman my name. My bond.Even if it was a lie.Even if I’d done it for the right reasons.I’d still crossed a line I never believed I would.And I felt it like a wound in my chest.So I sat alone on the balcony of an old, forgotten wing of the estate—far from her. Far from anyone. Just the moon and me.And my memories.The ones I swore I’d buried.But pain has a way of digging up bones, especially when you realize—your curse didn’t start with her.It started with me.With my name.With Blackwood.---My family wasn’t always powerful.We weren’t always rulers, Alphas of vast territories or wolves feared across continents.We were, once, a small bloodline—touched by a gift we didn’t understand.The first Blackwood, Elias, was said to be born with golden eyes that glowed under moonlight.
(Damien’s POV – Present Day)The room was too quiet.Not the peaceful kind. Not the kind that lulls you into sleep.This silence was cruel. Heavy. Mocking.Sofia’s body lay motionless in my arms, her head tucked beneath my chin, skin growing colder by the minute. The foam at her lips had stopped, but so had the color in her cheeks.She was slipping.And I was out of time.I cradled her closer, burying my face in her hair.“You said you’d never leave me,” I whispered, my voice cracking at the edges. “So don’t do this. Don’t make me live in a world where I can’t hear you laugh again. Don’t make me…”I broke.The words dissolved into silence.Because no vow. No bite. No rage could undo what fate had done.Unless I did the one thing I swore I’d never do.Unless I gave in.---The wind shifted again.And just like before, the shadows in the room stretched, curled, and thickened.A soft hum began to vibrate in the air, low and ancient.Then, she appeared.Saria.Sofia’s mother. The spirit w
(Damien’s POV – Present Day)The sound came first.A wet, choking gasp.Followed by a gurgle—unnatural and terrifying.My heart stopped.I was in the hallway, reading through a worn scroll when I heard it. At first, I thought I imagined it.But then came the second sound.A soft thud.Like someone struggling.Like someone dying.I ran.The door to the bedroom burst open under my hand.And there she was.Sofia.My Luna.Convulsing.Her body was seizing, her fingers curled tight into the sheets, and her mouth—her mouth was foaming, white and thick, choking her with every breath.“No—no, no—Sofia!”I dropped everything and rushed to the bed, grabbing her shoulders, trying to steady her.Her eyes fluttered open, wide, glassy.Empty.“Sofia—breathe, baby. Just breathe—stay with me!”She didn’t respond.Only gurgled again, thick saliva spilling from her lips. Her back arched violently.“Jaxon!! Ethan!!” I screamed so loud it shook the room. “Get in here now!”The door slammed open.“Goddess
(Damien’s POV – Present Day)She didn’t wake up.I waited. Hours.Held her hand, pressed kisses to her knuckles, whispered every memory we ever made into her ear like they were spells that might pull her back.She didn’t even twitch.Not even when I said the words she always leaned into:“Mine. You’re mine, Sofia. Come back to me.”But her chest only rose and fell in that same shallow rhythm, her pulse barely flickering beneath my fingers.She was here. Her body, warm. Alive.But her spirit—buried somewhere deep, unreachable.I refused to accept it.I stood up slowly, brushing her hair back from her face. “You made me promise not to leave you,” I whispered. “I didn’t. I came back. I’m here now. And I’m not losing you. Not again.”I pressed my forehead to hers. My voice cracked.“You hear me? I’m going to fix this. Even if I have to burn through time itself.”---The room darkened as I stepped into the hallway, my pack silent outside the door. They looked up, their eyes lined with the
(Sofia’s POV – Dreamworld / Final Memory)The snow had stopped falling.But the cold—**the kind that settles beneath the skin, into the soul—**remained.I stood in the great hall alone.No laughter.No footsteps.No fire burning in the hearth.Just the echo of a home that had already made up its mind to forget me.The tapestries that once told the story of our bloodline hung limp and grey. The same colors I’d worn during my rites. The same colors they had wrapped around me like a gift, pretending it was honor—when all it had ever been was a burial cloth.---At dawn, I woke to a whisper.Orin.He stood at the edge of my bed, already dressed in riding leathers. His hair was tousled, eyes dim with something that looked too close to guilt.“They’re leaving,” he said quietly. “Now.”I sat up. “And you?”He didn’t answer right away.“I fought them on it,” he said. “Tried to tell them it wasn’t right. But…” He looked away. “Mother says there’s no time.”There was always time.They just didn
(Sofia’s POV – Dreamworld / Past Memory)The snow came early that year.It blanketed the mountaintop estate in a white hush that made the world feel quiet—too quiet. The gardens where Mira once played were still. The air held a cold that slipped into your bones and made you forget what warmth ever felt like.I stood beneath the veranda wrapped in a fur-lined cloak, watching smoke curl from the eastern tower.It was the beginning of the end.I could feel it.The sickness had started to spread beyond whispers. It came with the cold, they said. It moved through the blood, through touch. And no one knew what it truly was—only that it took fast and left slower.But that wasn’t the worst part.The worst part was that my mother had changed.Her once-smooth brow was creased with something deeper than worry. Her silver hair had dulled, her presence felt brittle. Like a candle burning at both ends.She used to walk the halls with silent command, her word absolute. Now she paced. Fussed. Watched
(Sofia’s POV – Dreamworld / Past Memory)The first thing I noticed was the scent.Freshly crushed lavender beneath my bare feet. The air was heavy with spring—honeysuckle, warmed earth, the distant salt of sea wind.I stood on grass that hadn’t felt my touch in years.Not since I was a girl.Not since they were alive.Before war. Before abandonment. Before I learned what it meant to be alone.The house loomed ahead—not the penthouse, not Damien’s cold marble and glass, but home. The ancestral estate of my bloodline, all soft limestone and curling ivy and balconies framed with carved wolf insignias.Sunlight caught on the stained-glass windows like gold dancing over water.Too perfect.Too whole.This place was gone. Burned. Buried. Yet here it stood, untouched. And I…I was young again.I looked down at my hands—small, unscarred. My nails neatly trimmed, the white robe of ceremony brushing my ankles.No blood. No bruises.Just innocence.But something inside me—the woman I am now—knew