* 55%

    It’s been months since Eryx rejected me, and I’m slowly letting him go. Some days it feels like peeling my own skin away, others it feels like drowning and surfacing over and over again. I thought the bond between us would tether me forever, but it turns out rejection really can carve you hollow and force you to fill yourself with something else, anything else, just

    to survive.

    Maybe if I didn’t love him to begin with it would be easier? Now it’s impossible. But it’s slowly going, I’m slowly learning to breath without thinking of him or craving him.

    It’s not easy, far from it. But I have to move on, for the baby.

    Damon’s hand strokes across my stomach, slow and steady, and I catch the flicker of his smile in the corner of my eye. His parents have been gone for ages now, moving between their two packs. Damon’s father leads this one, while his mother rules her own territory further south. Damon’s next in line here, though, which means more and more he’s left to shoulder responsibilities alone.

    It also means his parents aren’t hovering, and the house feels lighter without their presence. I don’t feel watched. I don’t feel judged. I can breathe easier. It’s feeling like home, which I never thought would happen/

    I don’t hide may pregnancy anymore. I couldn’t if I tried. My stomach has rounded, growing steadily each week, and though

    I once thought shame would burn me alive if anyone saw it, I’ve reached a ce where I can touch my belly and know it isn’t shame I feel, it’s defiance. It’s life.

    “How are you feeling?” Damon asks, his voice low, gentle.

    I shrug and lean back against the couch cushions, closing my eyes for a moment. “Better. Tired, but better.”

    His hand leaves my stomach only to trace along my arm. He lingers at the bend of my elbow before moving lower, and the touch is so casual, so unhurried, that I don’t even flinch anymore. It makes me shiver, though, because I’ve gotten used to the warmth of his touch, the way he makes space for me instead of taking it by force.

    “You’re doing amazing,” he says, and there’s pride in his voice that unsettles me. Pride for me, not the baby, not for everything else, but me. I’ve only had that with Eryx, and it’s nice for someone else to show it.

    Lopen my eyes and nce at him. His hair is a little messy tonight, falling over his forehead. He looks tired but not hardened. Not haunted. I don’t know what it is that makes him feel so different from Eryx. Maybe it’s that Damon doesn’t carry his battles in his eyes the way Eryx did. Or maybe it’s that Damon never promised me forever and then tore it away like it meant nothing

    “Am [?” I ask, my lips quirking slightly. I don’t feel like I am, I feel like I’m just going through this and hoping I chose the right path bat /bevery option I’m given.

    “You are.” His eyes flicker down to my stomach and then back to mine. “You’re stronger than you think.”

    Iugh softly, but it’s bitter around the edges. “I don’t feet strong. I feel broken most days. I feel like I’m surviving because! have no choice, not because I have strength.”

    ???, 55%

    +23

    “Surviving is strength,” he says simply.

    I stare at him for a long moment. The truth in his tone makes me ache. Damon has been nothing but sweet, nothing but steady, and he hasn’t once asked for anything in return. He’s just… here. Present, reliable and after everything I lost, that’s something I can’t take lightly.

    After I asked him months ago to try calling Eryx again, to tell him about the baby, I listened as Damon sat me down and exined the calls with guilt in his eyes. Eryx’s words were cruel and sharp, nothing like the man I remembered. He said things no mate should say, no father should say, and it shattered whatever fragile hope I had left.

    It’s like I don’t know Eryx anymore. Or maybe I never did. Maybe I built him in my mind iinto /isomeone he wasn’t.

    Damon shifts closer, his hand still brushing mine. The silence between us stretches, but it isn’t heavy. Not anymore. There was a time when silence left me restless, panicked even, but now with Damon it feels… safe. Like I can rest in it.

    “You know,” he says finally, his voice dipping into something softer, “I meant what I told you before. I’ll look after you. I’ll look after the baby. No matter what.”

    The words strike something deep in me. I blink, my throat tightening as I whisper, “That should’ve been Eryx promising that.”

    Damon’s eyes soften, but he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t push me away for saying it. “Not all men are made to be fathers,” he says after a moment. “And not all mates are made tost. Sometimes the best thing someone can do is walk away, even if it feels cruel in the moment. Sometimes… it’s for the best.”

    I want to argue with him, want to cling to the ghost of the bond I once felt, but I can’t. Not anymore. Not when months

    have passed and Eryx hasn’te, hasn’t fought, hasn’t cared. The hole he left in me has been filled by something else. By Damon’s quiet steadiness. By the life inside of me.

    “Maybe you’re right,” I murmur.

    “I am righti,/ii” /ihe says, smiling faintly. “Because I see you. I see what you’re going through. And I won’t leave you to face it

    alone.”

    The words bring tears to my eyes. I blink them back, but one still escapes, slipping hot down my cheek. Damon reaches out and wipes it away with his thumb, his touch careful, reverent.

    “Don’t cry,” he whispers. “You’ve done enough of that. You deserve better.”

    I swallow hard, caught in his gaze. His face is close now, closer than it’s ever been. My heart pounds in my chest, but it isn’t panic this time. It isn’t fear. It’s something else. Something terrifying in its own way, but not because it hurts, because it

    doesn’t.

    “I don’t know how to start again,” I whisper.

    “You don’t have to knowi,” /ihe says softly. “You just take the first step. And then the next. And I’ll be right there.”

    His hand cups my face fully now, tilfing it toward him. My lips part, my breath shaky. I should pull back, should remind myself this isn’t what I nned, this isn’t what I dreamed. But months of loneliness, months of rejection, months of silence from the one who should have been here, they’ve worn me down. And Damon has been the one lifting me up.

    – 2/3

    09:32 Sat, 30 Augu

    His lips brush mine before I realize what’s happening. The kiss is gentle and questioning, lingering just long enough for me to feel the warmth of it. My chest aches, my stomach flips, and my hands tremble as I clutch the cushion beneath me.

    When he pulls back slightly, his eyes search mine. “April,” he whispers, like he’s giving me a chance to stop this.

    But I don’t. I can’t.

    Because for the first time in months, I don’t feel abandoned. I don’t feel like a burden. I feel wanted.

    So I lean back in, and this time I kiss him.