Chapter 6

Damian's POV

I sat in my office, my hands clasped together on the polished oak desk, my head bowed under the weight of thoughts I couldn't escape. The office was too quiet, the hum of the fireplace offering no real comfort. Even the crackle of flames seemed to mock me, a reminder of the warmth I no longer felt.

“We're in a mess. Let's think up ways we can get her back. If Rylan is not letting her out of his sight, that's real trouble.”

It was my wolf. I sighed.

It had been weeks since Lyra left. 

Perhaps, I'd not expected things to play out the way they'd eventually played out. How had I let Eloisa get under my flesh and make me do the things I'd done?

Until the moment Lyra had left the pack in her humiliation, it hadn't occurred to me how much pain I'd be going through without her. 

I ran a hand through my hair, groaning softly. The day she'd left replayed in my mind like a nightmare on repeat. I hadn’t realized how far I'd gone astray until it was too late. Eloisa. Her name was a bitter taste on my tongue now, even though I had once convinced myself that she was a comfort in my grief. Lyra had lost our son, but so had I—hadn’t that given me a right to solace, too? I thought it had, then. 

But looking back, I could only see my failure. The way Lyra’s face had crumpled when she saw me with Eloisa on that podium that evening. She hadn't suspected anything until the moment she'd seen Eloisa standing next to me. The agony in my eyes as she ran out of the pack hall—had left me questioning a lot of choices I'd made in the past times. 

And now, she was with the rogues. With Rylan. The one man who had once tried to usurp the throne. 

My jaw tightened at the thought of the man. Rylan, the self-proclaimed rogue king, who had always wanted Lyra for himself. And now, she was in my his arms. The mental image alone was enough to make my wolf growl inside me. 

A soft knock interrupted my spiraling thoughts. I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Eloisa. Her scent, all honey and jasmine, filled the room as she let herself in.

"Damian," she purred, her tone honeyed but laced with a possessiveness I couldn't ignore even if I wanted to.  She walked toward me, her hips swaying deliberately. 

“You’ve been locked in here for hours. I thought you might need... company."

"I’m fine," I replied sharply, my voice colder than I intended. I didn’t look at her, keeping my eyes on the fireplace instead.

She placed a delicate hand on my shoulder, her touch too familiar, suddenly unwelcome. 

"You don’t seem fine," she murmured.

 "You’re carrying so much weight, Damian. You don’t have to do it alone." 

 Her other hand brushed against my chest, lingering.

I don't have to do it alone indeed. 

If only she knew what it was that was messing with my head. If only she knew that involving her in this would shatter her. 

My patience snapped as her hands lingered on me. I stood abruptly, shaking her off. 

"Eloisa, stop." The words came out harsher than I'd meant, but i didn’t regret them. 

“I don’t need your help. I don’t need you as much as you like to think I do."

She flinched, her lips parting in surprise. I saw the flash of anger and then pain in her eyes. But it was the last thing to bother me now. My wolf pranced about inside me. It wanted to meet with Lyra. Every minute of every day left my wolf even more restless. It needed to be joined with Lyra again.

"Damian, I’m just trying to—"

"To what?" I turned to face her, my eyes blazing. "Fix me? Make me happy because you think that's exactly what you're here for?”

The room fell into a tense silence. Eloisa’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she quickly masked her hurt with indignation. 

"I was there for you when you needed me to be," she snapped. 

"When she couldn’t be, when she was too immersed in her grieving, I was there with you. I warmed your bed and comforted you when she shut you out. Don’t forget that."

"I haven’t," I admitted, my voice softer now but no less firm. 

"But that doesn’t mean I was right to let you be."

I turned away from her, walking to the window. The moon hung low in the sky, its silvery glow casting shadows across the pack lands. Somewhere out there, Lyra was living a life without me. With rogues. With Rylan. The thought burned, but I couldn’t blame her. Not after everything I'd let her go through.

"Damian," Eloisa said again, her voice smaller this time.

"What’s wrong? Why won’t you let me help you? Why won't let me be a part of your life completely?"

I shook my head, my hands gripping the windowsill until my knuckles turned white. 

"It’s nothing," I said.

The room felt suffocating with her presence, but I refused to look at her again. I couldn’t deal with her misplaced affections, not now, not ever. My heart wasn’t hers to claim. It never had been.

"Get some rest, Eloisa," i said finally, my tone dismissive.

For a moment, she hesitated, as if she might argue. But then she sighed and left the room, her footsteps soft but deliberate. The door clicked shut behind her, and i exhaled heavily, pressing my forehead against the cool glass.

I closed my eyes, letting the silence envelop me once more. My wolf stirred restlessly, clawing at my mind. 

“We need her. She’s ours. Get her.”

The thought echoed through me, the words that had haunted me since the day Lyra left the Blood Nest Pack.

But how could I get her back? How could I undo the damage I'd done? And if i couldn’t, would she ever truly be safe with Rylan?

The uncertainty gnawed at me. It worried me so much that it kept me up late at night, a cruel reminder that my choices had led me here. Alone.