Chapter forty Two
Damon’s POV
The stranger’s parting words churned in my mind like a storm brewing on the horizon, but what unsettled me most was Eve. The way her body had tensed, her breath hitching, it wasn’t just fear; it was recognition.
Damien was already pacing the room, his mind likely running through every possible strategy to secure the pack. That’s who he was: the planner, the protector. Me? I dealt with things differently.
“We don’t even know who this guy is,” I said, leaning against the edge of Damien’s desk. “Or what game he’s talking about.”
Damien stopped mid-step, his sharp gaze snapping to me. “Does it matter? He’s a threat.”
“Of course, it matters,” I shot back. “We can’t fight what we don’t understand, Damien.”
Eve sat quietly in the corner, her arms wrapped around herself, her head lowered as if trying to make sense of it all. That wasn’t like her. The fire she’d shown in the Council chambers was no longer there..
I crossed the room and crouched in front of her, catching her gaze. “Eve,” I said softly, “do you know who he is?”
She blinked at me, her expression torn, before shaking her head. “No, but…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked away, her hands twisting in her lap.
I frowned. “But what?”
Damien’s voice cut through the tension. “Let her breathe, Damon.”
I shot him a glare over my shoulder. “We don’t have time for breathing, if she knows something, she needs to tell us.”
Eve’s head snapped up then, her eyes blazing. “I said I don’t know who he is,” she snapped. “But I recognize the scent. It’s familiar, like… like something I should remember but can’t.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. If this stranger was tied to her past, then this wasn’t just about the pack, it was about her.
Damien’s jaw tightened. “We’ll figure it out,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.
.
Later that night, I found myself getting restless, I ended up in the kitchen, gulped down a glass of whiskey. The house was quiet, save for the faint creak of footsteps behind me.
“You’re up late,” Eve said softly, her voice cutting through the silence.
I turned to find her standing in the doorway, wrapped in one of Damien’s oversized hoodies, her hair messy, with streaks of dried tears on her face.
“So are you,” I replied, gesturing for her to join me.
She hesitated for a moment before crossing the room and sliding onto the stool beside me.
“Can’t sleep?” I asked, pouring her a glass of water instead of whiskey.
She shook her head, her fingers tracing the rim of the glass. “I keep thinking about him, trying to rack my head about who he is, and what he said, and also Callie.”
I stayed quiet, letting her speak, pour it all out.
“I know I never really liked Callie, truth be told, I hated her, her guts and the fact that you had once been intimate, I just could not bring myself to like her.” She sniffed, then continued, “But I’m sad she ended up the way she did, also Now this.”
“Do you think he’s right?” she asked, her voice a whisper. “That we’re losing?”
I hated the doubt in her voice, the way it made her shoulders slump, I reached out, my fingers brushing hers. “No,” I said firmly. “We’re not losing. We’re just figuring out how to win.”
She gave me a small, tired smile, and for a moment, I prayed I had done a good job convincing her, because I was not sure myself.
“You’re a good liar, Damon,” she teased softly, though her eyes sparkled with something close to gratitude.
I grinned, leaning closer. “Who said I was lying?” Hating the fact that the rogue had done a good job casting doubts and unbelief in our plans.
The laugh that escaped her was quiet, but it was enough. It was enough to remind me why I’d fight tooth and claw to keep her safe.
The next morning, Damien was already up, barking orders to the pack’s warriors, I watched from the sidelines, my arms crossed, as Eve watched from the house.
She was still scared, I could see it in the way she held herself, but there was alertness and strength there too. And damn if it didn’t make me want to drop everything and pull her into my arms, draw her infor a kiss.
Damien turned to me, his expression grim. “We’re taking a team to scout the borders. I want you to stay with Eve.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t trust me on the frontlines?”
“I trust you to protect her,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Eve looked between us, her brows in a frown. “I don’t need protecting,” she said, her voice smug
I smirked. “Maybe not, but hum
or us.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, and for that, I was grateful.