Chapter Forty One

Chapter Forty One
Jhelani's POV:

“Aah!” I screamed, clutching my chest.

It was so late at night and the things that closed my head was the event that took place last night. I still was unable to get myself to stop thinking about that.

I checked my bed side clock, trying to figure out who was paying me a boost by this time of the day. It was already eleven pm and the boys showed up today.

So much for caring about me.

I threw the blanket off me and went to the kitchen, making sure to grab a fry pan as a way to protect myself. Probably not the best thing to use against an unknown entity, but this was all I got at the moment.

I went to the door, letting the door ring again. I braced myself up, closing my eyes to prepare myself for whatever I'm going to see. Also secretly praying that it turned out to be nothing of that sort.

“You can do this, Jhelani,” I assured myself.

I opened the door, ready to hit the ret on whoever it was until his louder caught me on guard. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I slowly put down the fry pan after realizing that the person wasn’t anyone dangerous. It was just Damon, and once I was able to digest that information, the nerves kicked in.

I immediately got conscious of what I was wearing. I was dressed in simple flannel pajamas and I hated myself for wanting to change into something better just because he arrived.

He chuckled softly. “Were you just about to hit me with a frying pan?” He asked, clearly amused.

I rolled my chest and walked back inside, and didn't stop until I heard the sound of the door closing behind him. “I didn't expect to have any guests by this time of the day. So, pardon me for trying to protect myself.”

He quickly grabbed on the sarcasm intended in my tone. “Why are you getting all feisty?”

I crossed my arms together, unable to believe that he's asking me that. “You come in here scaring the shit out of me and then you dare to ask me why I'm so feisty or let me help you rephrase—Why I'm so pissed at you right now—Maybe, it's cause you haven't shown up in the past days and when you did, you decided to show up like some kind of batman.”

He gave a small laugh, tilting his head as his eyes swept over my annoyed expression. “You’re cute when you’re angry, you know that?” he teased, leaning against the wall with that stupid half-smirk that could both irritate and melt me at the same time.

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms tighter, trying to look unaffected. “Don’t start with me, Damon. I’m really not in the mood for your jokes right now.”

He lifted his hands in mock surrender, but there was a faint chuckle in his voice. “Alright, alright… no jokes. I get it. You’re mad. I deserve it.”

His voice softened at the end, and for a moment, it threw me off balance. I didn’t expect him to admit it that easily. He took a few steps closer, and I could smell that familiar scent of pine and smoke that always seemed to linger around him. It made my chest tighten in the worst way.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his tone more serious now. “I should’ve come sooner. Things got… complicated.”

“Complicated?” I repeated, trying not to let my voice shake. “That’s all you have to say? You disappear without a word, and then you show up out of nowhere at eleven at night and tell me it’s complicated?”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. For once, he didn’t try to meet my eyes. “If I told you everything that’s going on right now, you’d hate me for keeping you out of it. But if I don’t tell you anything, you’ll still hate me for not trusting you.”

I stared at him quietly, not knowing how to respond to that. He finally looked up, and the tiredness in his eyes made me hesitate. Something about his face told me he wasn’t just being dramatic.

Still, I looked away and muttered, “You could’ve at least texted.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “I know.”

There was a pause—one of those moments that stretched too long, where you don’t know whether to speak or walk away. I tried to hold onto my irritation because it was easier than admitting I’d missed him.

“Damon, just… go home,” I said finally, walking past him toward the couch. “You shouldn’t even be here. You said it yourself—things are complicated.”

He didn’t move. “Jhelani.”

I froze mid-step.

That voice—the way he said my name so low, so soft—it hit something in me I didn’t want to feel. I missed the sound of my name on his tongue. It's been so long. Then he added that one word, the one nickname he hadn’t called me in weeks.

“Snowfire.”

The sound of it broke whatever wall I was trying to keep up. My chest ached as I turned to face him. He looked different—gentler, almost vulnerable, as if saying that name had stripped away the Alpha mask he always wore.

“Don’t call me that,” I whispered, even though a part of me didn’t mean it.

He took another step toward me, closing the space between us. “I missed you,” he murmured, and before I could say anything, his hand brushed my cheek, thumb tracing just below my eye. “I know I messed up disappearing like that. I just didn’t want to drag you into everything.”

My heart was racing too fast. I hated how easily his presence could do that.

“Damon…” I started, but my voice trailed off when he pulled me closer, his other arm resting around my waist. I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against mine, and it made my thoughts blur.

“I promise,” he said quietly, “I’ll explain everything soon. But right now, I need you to trust me.”

He stepped back slightly and glanced at my feet. “Grab your shoes.”

I blinked, confused. “What? Why?”

“Because,” he said, already moving toward the door again, “we’re going somewhere.”

I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “It’s almost midnight, Damon. Where could you possibly want to go at this hour?”

He turned halfway, his lips curving into that same faint, knowing smirk. “You’ll see.”

And even though every sensible part of me screamed not to follow, something in his eyes—something raw and serious—made me hesitate.

I sighed, muttering under my breath as I grabbed my sneakers. “If this turns out to be one of your weird Alpha things, I swear I’ll hit you with that frying pan next time.”

He chuckled softly, opening the door for me. “Fair deal.”

And just like that, I found myself stepping out into the night beside him—heart pounding, questions burning—but unable
to deny that tiny, dangerous spark of curiosity that came alive every time I was with him.