Chapter 23 His Guilt
The steady crash of waves filled the silence, rhythmic and relentless. I lay there for a moment, trying to convince myself that I hadn’t dreamt everything, the confrontation, the way Darius had looked at me as though my pain somehow wounded him too.
But the faint redness on my arms reminded me it had all been real.
I had no idea how long I’d been alone when the soft click of the door jolted me upright.
A woman entered, not Darius, but someone else. Her presence immediately felt different: calm, professional, gentle in a way that didn’t set my nerves on edge. She was tall, graceful, with silver hair tied into a low bun and eyes the color of sage. She wore a white coat over a sea-green dress, a tablet in one hand and a small leather medical case in the other.
“Good evening,” she said softly, voice smooth as silk. “I’m Dr. Amara.”
Her tone was kind, but measured, the type of voice used to soothe frightened creatures. And perhaps that’s exactly how she saw me.
“I’m here to check on you, Luna” she continued, offering me a small, reassuring smile. “Alpha Darius said you might be in some discomfort.”
Luna. The title felt heavy, like something that didn’t belong in the same sentence as my name.
I nodded wordlessly, pulling the robe tighter around me.
She approached slowly, setting her bag down on the bedside table. “May I?” she asked, gesturing toward my arm.
I hesitated before extending it. Her fingers were cool and gentle as she examined the skin, her brows knitting slightly as she traced the faint red marks that had already begun to fade.
“It’s not too bad,” she murmured, half to herself. “You’ve irritated the epidermis from over-scrubbing. It’ll heal quickly, within a day or two. I’ll prescribe a soothing balm to reduce sensitivity.”
Her touch was careful, but clinical. I could tell she was assessing more than just the physical, the tension in my posture, the way I flinched when her hand neared my collarbone.
“Thank you,” I managed to whisper.
She gave a small nod and reached into her case, pulling out a small glass jar filled with a faintly shimmering salve. “This will help,” she said, handing it to me. “Apply it twice today, and once tomorrow. You should feel better soon.”
As she straightened, her gaze lingered on me longer than before. Her eyes softened with something like curiosity.
“You’re different,” she said quietly.
I blinked. “What?”
Her lips parted as though she were about to explain, but then she caught herself. “I’ve treated hybrids before,” she said instead, voice low and thoughtful. “But none quite like you.”
A chill rippled down my spine.
I sat up straighter. “What do you mean by that?”
She hesitated. “Never in my life have I ever thought I’d see a vampire and werewolf hybrid.”
“That’s enough.”
The single word cut through the air like a blade.
I hadn’t even heard him come in, but suddenly, Darius was there, leaning against the doorway, dressed in dark slacks and a fitted shirt rolled up to his elbows. His blue eyes gleamed faintly in the low light, sharp and unreadable.
Dr. Amara straightened immediately, bowing her head slightly. “Alpha,” she greeted softly.
He moved closer, the air in the room seeming to tighten with every step. “You’ve done your job,” he said evenly. “You can take your leave.”
The doctor’s eyes flicked to me briefly, full of something that looked almost like an apology, before she closed her case. “Of course,” she said quietly. “If she needs anything, call me.”
Darius gave a curt nod.
As she moved toward the door, she paused just long enough to meet my gaze again. “Rest,” she whispered, so softly I almost didn’t hear it. “You’ll need your strength.”
And then she was gone.
The door closed behind her, leaving me alone with him once more.
The silence that followed was heavy, pressing against my chest like a weight. Darius stood there for a long time, simply watching me. The lamplight caught the planes of his face, sharp jaw, shadowed cheekbones, and the faint scruff on his chin. He looked as though he’d been carved from night itself.
I clutched the small jar of balm in my hands, focusing on the cool glass. “Why did you dismiss her?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“She was taking too much,” he said.
“She was just curious.”
He took another step toward me. “I don’t care”
Something in his tone made me frown. “You think I’m some kind of secret that needs to be hidden away?”
He didn’t answer right away. His gaze softened, but only slightly. “No,” he said quietly.
Darius didn’t move for a long moment. Then, with a sigh, he walked to the balcony doors and pushed them open, letting the sound of the ocean flood the room. The night wind stirred his hair, carrying with it the scent of salt and something faintly metallic, power, danger, the essence of him.
I hated the way my pulse quickened when I looked at him.
Silence fell between us again, but this time, it wasn’t suffocating. It pulsed with something unspoken, heat, frustration, and longing. I could feel the bond tugging at me like an invisible thread, drawing me closer even as my mind screamed to stay away.
Finally, Darius reached for the jar in my hands. His fingers brushed mine, sending a shock of electricity through my skin. “Let me,” he murmured.
“I can do it myself,” I said quickly, but my protest sounded weak even to my own ears.
He ignored me. His thumb grazed the back of my hand as he unscrewed the lid. The balm inside shimmered faintly under the light. He dipped two fingers into it, then met my gaze, silently asking permission.
For some reason, I didn’t stop him.
He touched my shoulder first, spreading the cool ointment over the raw patches of skin with slow, deliberate care. The salve soothed the burn instantly, but it wasn’t the balm that made me shiver, it was him.
His touch wasn’t rough, or demanding. It was reverent, almost hesitant. As though he were trying to undo the damage his presence had caused.
When he finished, he set the jar aside, his hand lingering for a moment too long against my skin. Then he spoke softly, his voice a whisper that barely reached me.
“I will never hurt you,” he said.
I swallowed hard. “You already did. When you took away the most important person in my life”
He nodded once, as if accepting the truth. “Then I’ll spend the rest of my life atoning .”
And before I could respond, before I could tell him that I didn’t want his vows or his guilt, I wanted him to let me go so I could continue with my life, he turned away and walked to the door.
The sound of it closing behind him was soft. But somehow, it still left the room feeling emptier than before.