Chapter 33 CHRISTMAS MIRACLE

Chapter 33 CHRISTMAS MIRACLE
Hazel P.O.V.

He clenches his jaw, still unwilling to give in, still trying to find a way to stop me without revealing his truth.
"Cat got your tongue?" I taunt him, throwing his own words back at him.
His frown deepens, but he still doesn't utter a word.
"I guess that's it, then," I say in a nonchalant tone. "Good luck with your revenge."
I increase the pressure on my throat. The pain from the wound and blood loss is starting to bother me. And that's when he cracks. I stop.
"Emma," he whispers, loud enough for me to hear.
His revelation hits me like a bolt of lightning.
In my life, I've known only one Emma. And Derek did indeed kill her. So it must be her. She was Alpha of the Black Mountain Pack, which is now under Derek's control.
"Emma Davis?" I croak out, wanting confirmation.
He nods, his jaw tight and a look of endless despair in his eyes.
I put the porcelain shard down and press my hand to the wound, trying to stem the bleeding—which would be much easier if I had my wolf.
Without a word, Danny picks up the towel I used to dry myself and presses it against my wound.
"Thank you," I say feebly. But he doesn't acknowledge me. He keeps his gaze on the towel, which is now turning crimson.
"I'm sorry for your loss," I say honestly. Losing a mate is the kind of pain that can destroy a person. And although I can't find it in myself to forgive his misdeeds, I can somehow understand where he's coming from.
Derek strangled Emma to death in her office after she kidnapped him with the intent of marrying him and ruling both packs, while selling me to a group of werewolf traffickers.
I ended up in a cage back then too. A sad coincidence—or probably a way for Danny to remind me of what happened.
I hated Emma. She antagonized me from the very beginning, always trying to belittle me, to get between me and Derek. She nearly beat me to a pulp once, but I burned her like a turkey as payback. So we were kind of even.
She never mentioned a mate, though. And why would she go after Derek if she already had one?
"Did she know you two were mates?" I ask Danny. I avoid saying, "How were you okay with her cheating on you with Derek?" No speaking ill of the dead—especially not to their grieving mate.
He laughs bitterly, knowing exactly where I'm going with this.
"It was our plan. She would draw Derek in, secure her position as Luna, and then we'd kill him and rule both packs together."
Just… wow. Emma was even more wicked than I thought. And I'd bet my life that she never meant to rule together with Danny. She would have ruled alone, as the egocentric bitch she was.
"I know what you're thinking," Danny says, still bitter and now a little irritated too. "That I'm just delusional. That she would never have let me stand by her side officially. But you don't know her the way I did. There's so much to her that no one knew."
I refrain from commenting. It wouldn't go well, and I'd just sound petty. I still think she fooled him, used him for her own gain—though maybe there were real feelings between them. I can't imagine Emma taking a Beta wolf as her consort. Perhaps she meant to keep him as her little dirty secret. Poor Danny.
"Stop looking at me like that!" he seethes, fists clenched. I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "I don't need your fake pity. You know nothing!"
His demeanor changes like English weather. In a matter of moments, the hand that was clutching the towel to my wound now squeezes my neck painfully hard, reopening the cut and making it difficult to breathe.
"Soon you'll know what it feels like to lose a mate."
His breath fans my face. His eyes pierce mine like daggers, revealing a bottomless black pit of rage.
I know he's not going to kill me right this moment. But the deranged state he's in makes me dread what he has in store for Derek and me. All this hatred he's harbored for years—what will it make him do?
Then something catches my attention from the corner of my eye. Someone is at the top of the stairs. The door is open.
I immediately shift my gaze back to his smoldering one, not wanting to tip him off. I'm not sure who that person is—friend or foe—but if it means I might get out of here, I don't really mind.
I need to keep his attention on me.
"I already know what it feels like to lose a mate," I say calmly, choking a little on my words. His hand around my neck isn't making it easy to talk. "What do you think all those nightmares were about?"
His eyes widen for a second. He wasn't expecting that. He always wanted to know what my dreams were about. Now that he does, I wonder what he's thinking.
Then his gaze hardens again, as does his hold on my neck. If he doesn't let up soon, I'm going to pass out.
"Dreaming about it and living it aren't the same. Don't even try to compare." He sounds menacing, aggravated—as if I've personally offended his pain with my words.
"You're right. I'm sorry. Now let me go, please." Diplomacy. The key to getting out of here.
He eyes me for a second, not trusting what came out of my mouth. He knows me too well. He knows I never back down during an argument. Like when we argued about the best cereal—he rooted for Cocopops and I for Cinnamon Toast Crunch. We kept arguing for days. No one wanted to concede. In the end, we called it a draw.
Finally, he releases me and takes a few steps back. His hand is dripping with my blood. He wipes it hastily on the discarded towel, like he's afraid of catching a disease.
Then, all of a sudden, two figures dart out of the shadows and jump on Danny, immobilizing him on the floor.
He roars in rage and struggles, but he's not strong enough to overpower them. Before he can break free, the man on top of him plunges a needle into Danny's neck. It doesn't take long for his body to go slack, for his eyes to close.
While all the action unfolds, I just stand there, feeling — nothing, really. Disconnected. Like this has little do with me. 
Until two strong pairs of arms gather me in a tight hug while other wolves storm the basement, searching for more threats.
Cocooned  in their familiar scents and soothing warmth, the idea that finally I’m safe, that I’m free, slowly settles.
Bothered by my silence, both men step back to look at me. My eyes focus on the man to my left. How could he be here? He was poisoned. He should still be under compulsion.
"Earth to Hazel," Damon jokes, waving a hand in front of my face. "Are you still in there?" He taps his forefinger on my head, like he's knocking on someone's door.
On my right, Lukas examines the wound on my neck and the choker.
"Damon?" I ask tentatively, my voice still raspy from the pressure applied to my throat.
He smiles widely—all white teeth and jokes. "Who else? Do I look like Santa?"
I laugh at his stupid joke, more out of happiness at finally seeing him again, in his right mind and in one piece. Then I fling my arms around his waist and hug him as tightly as I can. He hugs me back, tenderly, making me feel safe and loved. I haven't felt this way in so long.
If he's back to normal, that means Derek might be back too! But if he were, wouldn't he be here with them?
I pull back, wanting to ask about Derek, but I'm interrupted by Lukas, who slides a small key into the lock of my choker. It clicks open, and he gingerly removes it. He’s being incredibly gentle, like he’s afraid I’m going to crack if he applies to much pressure.
"You should shift. It will help you heal faster," he mutters, not looking me in the eyes. He sounds grumpy, and maybe a little angry too.
What's up with him?