Sofia's POV

Damien shoved the burning coal into the man's thigh again, and the scream that came out didn't sound human. My whole body shook, tears running without stopping.

"D-Damien, please—" I sobbed.

He still didn't look at me.

Didn't blink in my direction.

Didn't even breathe differently.

His rage filled the entire room like a storm.

Then suddenly, he spoke.

Not to me.

To the guards.

"Take her out."

His voice was so cold… so sharp and authoritative. It sliced right through my chest.

Two guards stepped forward instantly.

I stepped back. "No—I'm not leaving! Damien, I'm not leaving!"

The guards hesitated, glancing at him.

Damien turned… and the look he gave me—

One look.

One single look.

And my legs almost gave out.

It wasn't anger.

It wasn't hatred.

It was emptiness.

A cold, hollow emptiness that said:

Don't test me.

My wolf whimpered and lowered her tail so fast it stunned me.

I swallowed hard and stepped back, nodding even though it broke something inside me. The guards took me gently—almost respectfully—out of the basement.

When the door shut behind me, another scream shook the floor.

I froze.

Then the screams stopped.

Silence.

Terrifying silence.

Did he kill him?

I hugged myself tightly, shivering in the hallway. My heart refused to calm down. I couldn't breathe properly.

I forced myself to move to the sitting room. I sat on the cold couch, tapping my fingers, biting my lip, shaking uncontrollably.

Ten minutes passed.

Fifteen.

Twenty.

Then finally—

Footsteps.

Slow. Heavy. Dragging slightly.

I jumped to my feet.

Damien walked into the sitting room, his expression unreadable. His hair was messy, his shirt soaked in sweat and blood—some his, some not. His hands were still shaking from the rage.

I rushed to him.

"Damien," I cried. "How did you find out? I—I got a scheduled email from Rebecca, and she—"

He walked right past me.

Like I wasn't talking.

Like I wasn't even there.

He headed straight for the stairs.

"Damien, please," I begged, following him quickly. "Just listen to me! I didn't know! I swear to you I didn't know—"

He climbed the stairs.

I followed.

He entered his room.

I followed.

He stopped only when he reached the center of the room.

I stood behind him, shaking. "Damien, I'm begging you. Say something. Please say something. I'm sor—"

Then he finally spoke.

His voice was deep, rough, cracked… tired.

"Rebecca has been trying to call me," he said without turning around. "For months."

My breath hitched.

"She used different numbers," he continued quietly. "Unknown lines. Foreign lines. Hidden IDs."

He let out a bitter laugh.

"I never picked."

Guilt punched me straight in the heart.

He turned to face me.

His eyes were red. Not from crying—Damien doesn't cry—but from sleeplessness, rage, and guilt.

"I thought she was one of my disturbances," he whispered. "I get too many calls. Too many questions. Too many requests from other Alphas. I thought she was another one."

He swallowed hard.

"I ignored them."

Tears blurred my eyes.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing shakily. "The day she escaped, she was running toward my pack. She called. I picked. She was talking… crying… screaming something… but I couldn't hear her clearly."

He shook his head, jaw clenching.

"The line kept breaking. Then it cut. Just like that."

I pressed a hand over my mouth, sobbing quietly.

Damien continued.

"I tried tracking her number… but I was too late."

His voice dropped into a pained whisper.

"A few minutes later… my border guards called."

My heart stopped.

"They said a body had been dropped at the border."

He looked down.

"When I got there… it was Rebecca. Her head was gone. Her body was dumped like trash. And I had no idea who did it. I had no idea who held her captive. No one knew where she was. Not even the seers could track her exact location."

I cried harder.

My whole heart ripped open.

He closed his eyes, his voice nearly breaking.

"And because of my selfish reasons…" he whispered painfully, "I exchanged her body with Olivia."

My breath froze.

"I shouldn't have. It was wrong. Very wrong. I didn't want you to see Rebecca like that. I didn't want to break you. I didn't want you to know she died running to me."

Damien's shoulders dropped… slowly… heavily… like every word he spoke pulled him lower and lower.

The room was silent.

Too silent.

My tears came harder, but he still didn't look at me. It felt like there was a thick wall between us—one made of pain, guilt, and everything we never said.

His jaw clenched as he finally continued.

I wiped my face, shaking. "Damien… please—"

He held up a hand.

Not to stop me.

To steady himself.

His voice cracked as he spoke next, the sound deeper, tired in a way I had never heard before.

"Since that day… I have been investigating her death."

My eyes widened.

He finally met my gaze.

"And not because I wanted to prove myself innocent."

He shook his head slowly.

"But because I needed to find the monster who took her from you… from me… from all of us."

I pressed both hands to my mouth as another sob escaped.

Damien walked to his desk slowly and opened the top drawer.

Inside were papers—tons of them. Documents. Maps. Phone logs. Pictures. Names. Threads.

Months of work.

He pulled some out and threw them onto the table.

They scattered like falling leaves.

"I searched everywhere," he said quietly. "Every pack. Every border. Every abandoned land. No clue led to the right man. Every trail died halfway."

I stared at the papers, my stomach twisting.

Maps were marked in red ink.

Photos of people. Wolves. Forests.

Damien's handwriting circled names.

Notes scribbled everywhere.

I whispered, "You… did all this alone?"

He nodded. "I didn't find a clue. Not one. Not until two months ago."

I blinked. "Two… months?"

He nodded. "One of my warriors intercepted a message. A whisper. A rumor of a human woman trapped in the Thorn Pack. Tortured. Pregnant. Abused."

My heart dropped.

"That was the first time I suspected," he whispered. "Just suspected… that maybe her killer was there."