Chapter 8: Then How About, I Give You Half of My Bed?
1236 Words
Chapter 8: Then How About, I Give You Half of My Bed?
(Damien Blackwood's POV)
I lowered my eyes, watching her delicate hands work on my wound.
Her porcelain-white face was remarkably close to my abdomen, so close that I could feel the gentle brush of her breath against my skin. The sensation was oddly intimate, making something in my chest tighten.
She must have just bathed. A faint, elusive fragrance of moonlight herb emanated from her hair, noticeable with just a slight dip of my head. The scent was clean and pure, unlike the heavy perfumes most she-wolves preferred.
Her fingers moved with practiced precision as she cleaned the wound. Despite her youth and apparent inexperience, her touch was confident and gentle. Each movement was careful, mindful of causing me additional pain.
I found myself studying her face as she worked. The furrow of concentration between her brows. The slight purse of her lips. The way her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks in the dim light.
After some time, Seraphina finished re-bandaging my wound, her hands smoothing the edges of the fresh bandage with a satisfied nod.
"All done," she said, straightening up to admire her handiwork, her eyes curving into crescents. The pride in her voice was unmistakable.
"Be careful not to get the wound wet recently, and especially avoid any strenuous movements, or it might tear open again." Her voice was soft but firm, the tone of a healer who expected her instructions to be followed.
Hearing her gentle instructions, my Adam's apple bobbed unconsciously. A strange feeling settled in my chest – something unfamiliar that I couldn't quite name.
"I'm sorry," I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them.
My apology clearly caught her off guard. Her eyes widened slightly, lips parting in surprise.
"I misunderstood you before," I continued, feeling compelled to explain. "About the camera."
(Seraphina Vance's POV)
The sudden apology left me stunned.
I looked up and met his dark, profound eyes. They were as placid as an ancient well yet as deep as the moonlit sky, impossible to fathom in a single glance. Something in his gaze made my heart skip a beat.
"It's... it's okay," I managed to say, my voice softer than I intended. "I didn't expect my ex-fiancé to be the one who installed it. It's normal for you to misunderstand."
I wanted to say I hadn't held it against him, that I understood his suspicion given the circumstances. But the words caught in my throat, trapped behind a sudden swell of emotion.
In that instant, all the grievances, anger, fear, and unease I had painstakingly buried deep inside swelled up like a balloon. Damien's simple apology had just pierced it.
The weight of everything crashed down at once – Julian's stalking, the violation of my privacy, the constant fear I'd been living with. The realization that if Damien hadn't been here tonight, Julian might have...
Overwhelmed, my eyes began to sting as emotions surged uncontrollably. I tried to blink back the tears, not wanting to break down in front of this man I barely knew.
I turned my face away, hoping he wouldn't notice. The last thing I needed was for him to think I was weak or emotionally unstable.
Just then, the lodge suite was plunged into darkness. The power had gone out.
The tears I had been desperately holding back finally broke free, streaming silently down my cheeks. In the darkness, at least he couldn't see my moment of weakness.
"It's okay, this happens often here," I said to Damien, my voice hoarse as I tried to sound normal. "The power should be back soon."
I cried without a sound, a quiet storm contained within me. Years of holding everything in, of being strong for my family, of enduring Julian's possessiveness – it all came pouring out in the safety of the darkness.
It wasn't until a few hot teardrops splashed onto the back of Damien's hand that he realized I was crying.
I heard him shift on the sofa, the leather creaking beneath his weight. The silence between us grew heavy.
He pursed his lips and stood up, moving somewhere into the darkness of the living room. I could hear his footsteps, steady and sure even in the blackness.
I frantically tried to stem my tears, wiping them away with the back of my hand. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me in such a state when the lights came back on.
Suddenly, the overhead light flickered back on. I blinked in surprise, my gaze locking with Damien's. He was standing by the light switch, his expression unreadable.
My eyes were red and puffy, almost like a rabbit's. There was no hiding the evidence of my tears now.
Damien stared at me for a moment, his silver eyes taking in my tear-stained face. Then, without a word, he calmly flicked the switch off again, plunging us back into darkness.
His deep voice followed from across the room. "You can cry slowly. I won't turn on the light."
I was left speechless. Who even says something like that?
I was caught between anger and an urge to laugh. It was such an odd thing to say – so blunt and awkward, yet strangely considerate in its own way.
But strangely, the heavy, negative emotions that had been weighing on my heart dissolved like foam, washed away by my tears and his unexpected gesture.
I sat in the darkness for a few more minutes, letting the last of my tears fall. The release felt good, like lancing a wound to let the poison out.
"You can turn the light on, I'm okay now," I finally said, my heart feeling significantly lighter.
When the room was illuminated again, I stood up and nonchalantly changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on my moment of vulnerability.
"I wonder if he installed surveillance anywhere else," I said, glancing around the room with renewed suspicion. "Could you please help me check?"
Damien gave a simple "Mm" in response, his face betraying no emotion.
We conducted a thorough search of the suite, checking every corner, light fixture, and piece of furniture. Thankfully, our search revealed no more hidden devices.
I was most relieved to find that my bedroom and bathroom were secure. The thought of Julian watching me in my most private moments made my skin crawl.
The last place to check was the room meant for Damien. As I opened the door, I began to explain, "I didn't think you'd be moving in so soon, so I haven't prepared a lot of things yet..."
My voice trailed off as we both stared at the empty room. There was no bed, just a small dresser and a chair. I had planned to furnish it properly before he moved in, but events had accelerated faster than I anticipated.
"So I'm sleeping on the floor tonight?" Damien interrupted.His dark eyes remained unreadable as he surveyed the empty room.
My face flushed with embarrassment. I bit my lower lip, conflicted.
The thought of letting a wounded wolf sleep on the hard floor pricked at my conscience. But the only other bed in the suite was in my room.
Before I could properly think it through, the words tumbled out of my mouth: "Then how about, I give you half of my bed?"
- Writer
