Damaged Goods Ao3 Novels & Stories

Author’s POV. Damien sat on the edge of the stone wall, blood dripping from his shoulder and painting the ground dark red. The sky above him was gray, heavy with clouds that smelled like rain. His breathing was ragged, shallow. Every time he tried to move, pain bit deeper into his side. He tore a strip from his shirt and pressed it against the wound, gritting his teeth as the cloth soaked through. The fight with Kai had left him battling for his life and the black magic somehow made it worse.

Minha directly looked at silenced Theodore and Hazel. "You are kidding, right? Please, tell me, my younger brother had not raped anyone." Even the forbidden word alone was making terror and trauma to pool in Minha's eyes. She was a victim of that henious crime. Who could understand that pain better than anyone else. "I'm sorry, ma'am." Theodore's voice was monotonous. "But that's exactly what your brother has done." Mr & Mrs Arnold and along their daughter's world crashed.

I hissed, my legs weak and feeling like jelly as I paused in my track, replaying scenes of what I saw inside that room. For real, my supposed fated mate has been found and this is how it all happened and ends. Like a joke. My neck hurts from the tight grasp of the same man that should be my protector, and each swallow was hard and painful, but what pained me the most was the fact that it was my mate who hurt me. I hissed in frustration, feeling so angry at the moon goddess for what she just did to me. How could she offer a dickhead to me as a mate?

I spit bitterly, glaring at him. He shrugs and then goes on to say, “they are just clothes. She left them behind because they did not matter.” She? April fuckin’ Anderson. “Don't ever make me wear another woman's clothes, ever again! And burn these!” I snap, before stomping out of the room. If he replied, I never heard it.

Damien's expression shifted slightly as he took in her disheveled appearance. Blood streaked down her neck, and bruises marred her delicate skin. Her forehead was still bleeding from a gash, and her swollen cheek was evidence of the violence she had endured. The temperature in the warehouse dropped and everyone felt a murderous aura while Damien hands balled into fists at his sides as anger flared within him—not at her, but at the ones who had dared to hurt her.

Something that seeped into my bones and stayed there. The memories came rushing back—not warm now, not comforting. Twisted. Dark. Damon, fighting beside me on the cliff, taking wounds meant for me. Damon, holding me in the dark, promising forever. Damon, kissing my tears, swearing he'd never let anyone hurt me again. Was any of it real? Or was it all just damage control? Guilt dressed up as love? I thought of my pack. Of Marta, bleeding in that dungeon. Of Elara, her arm in a sling. Of Finn, limping, barely alive. Of all the wolves who'd died because no help came.

he groaned, shaking his head as he stormed off to deal with the mess. ***************** As Damian carried Aurora up the winding staircase to his quarters, he glanced down at her. Her face was pale, her once rosy lips bruised from whatever hell she had endured. Her long lashes fluttered faintly, as though even in unconsciousness, she was fighting to stay strong. She looked so vulnerable in his arms, so different from the fiery woman she had been before all this. **What have they done to you?** Damian thought bitterly, his heart heavy with anger and guilt. He knew his family were capable of cruelty, but this... seeing her like this... it stirred something inside him he couldn’t quite name.

Carefully, he unfolded one brittle parchment after another, spreading them across the table. His eyes stopped on a faded drawing of a young woman standing under the full moon. Silver light surrounded her body. Damien’s breathing became uneven as he quickly turned the page. He slowly lowered the parchment, his face gradually losing all color. “No…” he said in a low voice, his heartbeat speeding up. “That can’t be possible.” **** The wounded attacker knelt on one knee, blood dripping onto the stone floor beneath him. His shoulder was badly burnt where Maya’s power had struck him and his arm was still shaking from the blast.

He gently brushed his palm down his daughter’s long, blonde hair. “Guards…” I parted my lips, yet Julius Campbell interrupted. “Alpha, calm down, please.” He bowed. “To tell you the truth…Damian has lost his mind. Three years ago, he got into a huge car crash while working abroad. Unfortunately, he lost his fated mate in the crash. She had long blonde hair like Serena. Ever since then, he thinks every blonde-haired girl is his true mate.” “Forgive him, Alpha.” He knelt on the ground and pleaded, keeping his gaze on the mud.

Sharp perfume, sharper eyes. “Heartless. Wicked,” she hissed. “Absolutely unhinged. Have you lost your mind?” “I…she….” “You’ve been acting crazy,” she cut me off. “After all, Damian finally brought someone Amara can call mother, and you nearly killed your own child. Do you even understand what’s happening to you?” I froze. The words from the hospital echoed in my head: Cognitive Identity Regression Disorder. They said I forget myself, lose control. But never not my daughter. Never her.