The rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle by the time Damien turned the car into the driveway of the safe house. The building loomed quietly in the dim glow of the streetlights, modest yet fortified, a sanctuary that promised safety but whispered secrets in the shadows. My hands tightened around Leo as I watched Damien kill the engine, the silence of the car now heavy with unspoken tension.
He didn't speak immediately. Instead, he stared ahead, his jaw tight, hands resting firmly on the steering wheel. Even in stillness, his presence was suffocating and commanding, a silent assertion that here, in this car, with this boy sleeping in my arms, he was the protector, the Alpha, the one in control. And I… I couldn't deny the pull he had on me. Not for a second.
"Stay in the car for a moment," he finally said, his voice low, measured. It carried that quiet authority I had learned to obey without question. "I need to make sure it's secure."
I hesitated, eyes narrowing. "Damien, we're not staying in some random building in the middle of nowhere. Leo—"
"He's fine," Damien cut me off, sharper than intended. Then, softer, almost a growl, he added, "Trust me. You don't need to worry. Not right now. Not about anything."
I knew better than to argue further. His Alpha presence was suffocating, irresistible, and infuriating all at once. My hands trembled slightly as I adjusted Leo in my lap, staring at the rain-soaked driveway, and let him step out. I could feel the heat of him even through the closed doors, the authoritative way he moved, scanning the perimeter with precision, every step measured, confident.
Minutes passed, long and tense. I didn't breathe until I heard the click of the lock, the sound of the car door opening. Damien's gaze locked onto mine immediately, sharp and piercing, and I realized my pulse had been racing without me noticing.
"Inside," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. I obeyed, climbing out with Leo nestled in my arms, the night air cool against my damp skin. Damien's hand brushed against mine briefly, almost accidentally, sending an electric thrill through me that I couldn't hide.
The house was silent as we stepped inside. Warmth from the small heater greeted us, a stark contrast to the damp chill outside. I felt a flicker of relief, but it was fleeting because Damien's gaze never left me, assessing, commanding, dominant. He moved with a predator's grace, shutting the doors behind us, checking the windows, securing every possible entrance with an intensity that made my heart race.
Finally, he turned, and the sharp edge in his eyes softened slightly as he looked at Leo. "He'll be safe here," he murmured, crouching slightly to meet the boy's eyes. Leo stirred, sensing the gentleness in Damien's voice despite the raw power he exuded. "You're safe. I won't let anyone hurt you."
Leo blinked up at him, sleepy but comforted, and I felt a pang of something I couldn't name—gratitude, relief, and an aching desire to lean on Damien in ways I hadn't before.
I set Leo down on the couch, smoothing his hair, murmuring softly. "You stay here. I'll… I'll get some blankets for you," I whispered, but Damien moved faster than I expected.
"I'll take care of him," he said, and I froze. His voice carried authority, but also an undercurrent of intimacy that made my stomach clench. "You focus on yourself. Don't worry about him for one second."
I opened my mouth to argue, but no words came. There was no arguing with him—not when his eyes, dark and commanding, bore into mine like he could see every hidden thought, every unspoken desire. I swallowed hard, the flush rising in my cheeks, and finally nodded, retreating toward the small hallway where the spare bedroom had been prepared.
I could hear Damien moving behind me, and the sound was deliberate, almost predatory. Every footstep, every soft grunt of exertion as he set blankets and prepared the living room for Leo, carried a silent tension that made me hyper-aware of his presence, his dominance.
Finally, I entered the bedroom. The room was modest, warm, dimly lit by a single lamp. My back pressed to the door as I closed it, and I let out a shaky breath. My heart still thundering, my body still buzzing from the tension in the car.
And then I felt it—the weight of him behind me. Damien leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, posture relaxed but every inch radiating authority. "You can't hide from me, Lia," he said softly. "Not here. Not anywhere. You can try, but it won't work."
I swallowed hard, turning slowly to face him. "I'm… I'm not hiding," I whispered, though my heart betrayed me with its rapid pace.
"No?" he said, stepping closer. The soft click of his boots against the floor was like a drumbeat, steady, commanding. "Then why do you keep trying to resist what's between us?"
I looked away, heat rising to my cheeks. "Because it's… complicated," I admitted, voice barely audible. "I… I don't… I—"
He closed the distance between us in two measured strides, his hand brushing against my arm in a way that was light, almost casual—but electric, burning. I shivered, instinctively leaning slightly toward him even as I tried to resist.
"Complicated?" he repeated, voice low, dangerous. "Lia, nothing about us is simple. But you're here. With me. And I can promise you… I will take care of you. Not in some distant, half-hearted way. I will protect you. Claim you. Own every part of you… if you let me."
My pulse raced. I tried to pull back, but his presence filled the room, dominating the space, pressing against my defenses until I felt exposed, vulnerable, and… yearning.
"You're insane," I whispered, shaking my head, yet unable to look away.
He smirked, leaning just slightly closer, so close that the heat from his body brushed mine. "Maybe," he admitted. "Or maybe I just know what I want… and I've waited long enough. I'm not letting you slip away, Lia. Not again."
The words sent a shiver down my spine, igniting something deep inside me. I wanted to run. I wanted to resist. I wanted to fight the pull between us. But I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough. Not against him. Not now.
He stepped even closer, his hand lifting to rest near my waist, hovering without touching, yet commanding my attention. "You feel it too, don't you?" he murmured. "The tension… the desire… the pull?"
"Yes," I admitted, voice trembling, heart hammering. "I… I can't stop it."
His smirk widened, dark and knowing. "Good," he whispered. "Because neither can I. And I won't. Not for a second."
And then, finally, the tension broke—not with a kiss, not with touch, but with a silent acknowledgment of what simmered between us. He backed up slightly, giving me just enough space to breathe, yet his presence filled every corner of the room, a silent promise that he was here, and he wasn't leaving.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair, trying to calm the heat that burned through me. Damien remained by the door, watching me, the quiet strength of him grounding me even as the pull between us threatened to consume everything.
Minutes passed in silence, each second thick with anticipation, desire, and unspoken words. Then, finally, he spoke.
"Rest," he said softly. "Leo and you need it. Tomorrow… we deal with the rest. But tonight… you are safe. With me."
I nodded, unable to speak, heart pounding, body still alive with every brush of memory, every echo of his presence. And as I lay back, closing my eyes, I realized something terrifying and exhilarating: I wanted him. All of him.
And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't afraid.