Chapter 441 Damien

Chapter 441 Damien
Damien - 101 years earlier Part 2

The rogue crawls backward.

I follow.

“Damien.”

Rian again.

I don't answer.

The man's heart beats faster.

My hands curl.

I could crush him.

The realization arrives with absolute certainty.

Bone would be nothing.

Muscle nothing.

I could tear through him.

Part of me wants to know if I'm right.

“Damien!”

A hand grabs my shoulder.

I spin and catch Rian by the throat.

Silence.

His eyes widen.

Mine probably do too.

For one horrible second, I don't recognize him.

Threat.

Interference.

My grip tightens.

Then—

“It's me, you fucking idiot.”

I blink.

Rian.

I release him immediately.

He stumbles backward, rubbing his throat.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“I nearly—”

“Yeah.”

I look at my hands.

The exhilaration cools.

The beast doesn't disappear.

It's there.

Watching.

Waiting.

That's considerably less fun.

Rian studies me.

“You in control?”

I bare my teeth.

“Obviously.”

He looks pointedly at his throat.

“Mostly.”

“Damien.”

“Yes.”

“In control?”

I breathe.

Everything is still too loud.

Too sharp.

But I force myself to focus.

Rian.

My unit.

Threats.

Choices.

Me.

Not the thing beneath my skin.

“Yeah.”

I roll my shoulders.

“I'm good.”

A rogue chooses that exact moment to run at us.

I punch him once.

He drops unconscious.

Rian looks down at him.

Then at me.

I smile.

“Now I'm good.”

The healer makes me sit on the examination table for forty-seven minutes.

I know it's forty-seven because I can hear the fucking clock three rooms away.

“This power is terrible.”

The healer pauses.

“You've complained for years that yours hadn't manifested.”

“Yes.”

“And now you're complaining because it has.”

“I can hear someone chewing downstairs.”

She tries not to smile.

“They're eating an apple.”

That gets her.

She laughs.

I glare.

“I'm suffering.”

“You're going to live.”

“Unfortunately.”

She shines a light into my eyes.

I stare back at myself in the mirror beside her.

Silver.

Completely silver.

They've always been darker before.

Now they look like molten metal.

My canines haven't changed much. Maybe slightly longer, but they've always been pronounced.

The rest?

That's different.

Strength.

Speed.

Hearing.

Smell.

Reflexes.

The healer thinks my body may heal faster too.

And then there's the beast.

I don't mention how much I enjoyed it.

That seems like the kind of confession that results in additional healers.

Rian is leaning against the wall.

“Tell her about my throat.”

I glance at him.

“Don't be dramatic.”

“You tried to crush it.”

“I stopped.”

“You're welcome,” the healer says dryly.

I point at her.

“See? Positive thinking.”

Rian mutters something obscene.

She checks my eyes again.

“Your power seems instinctive. Predatory, almost. It'll take discipline.”

I groan.

“Of course it fucking will.”

Rian smiles.

Finally, revenge.

The healer looks confused.

“What's funny?”

“He hates discipline.”

“I don't hate discipline.”

Rian laughs.

“You were assigned to my patrol because you started a fight in the dining hall.”

“He insulted me.”

“You kissed his sister.”

“She was really fucking hot.”

The healer's mouth twitches.

I smile at her.

She notices.

Rian notices me noticing.

“No.”

I look at him.

“What?”

“Do not flirt with the healer while she's assessing whether there's a beast living inside you.”

“I can multitask.”

The healer laughs.

Excellent.

Still got it.

Rian rubs his face.

Then the door opens.

A tired-looking attendant pokes her head inside.

“Damien?”

Something in her expression makes me straighten.

“What?”

“It's Ezra.”

Immediately, every joke leaves me.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. He's fine. He just won't settle.”

I stare at her.

“You came to the healer's wing because the baby is crying?”

“He's been crying for almost two hours.”

“And?”

“And you're the only one who can usually calm him.”

Fuck.

I slide off the table.

The healer catches my arm.

“We're not finished.”

“We are now.”

“Damien—”

“My brother needs me.”

“He needs someone to hold him.”

“Exactly.”

Rian makes a sound suspiciously like laughter.

I point at him.

“Not a fucking word.”

His eyebrows rise.

I leave.

Because my parents aren't there.

They decided Ezra, Rowan and I were too much trouble, or they wanted their freedom, or whatever excuse they're using for abandoning their newborn son.

I don't fucking care.

They're gone.

Ezra isn't.

Which means, somehow, at twenty-six years old, between patrols and training and women and fights and a life I've always lived exactly however the fuck I please, I have a baby brother depending on me.

And a teenage brother who is developping powers faster than me.

And apparently a newly awakened beast inside me.

Fantastic.

I can hear Ezra before I reach the Verrath wing.

His cries cut through every other sound.

My new senses immediately fix on them.

Then on his heartbeat.

Fast.

Safe.

I slow.

That's strange.

The beast inside me settles almost instantly.

Not gone.

Just—

Listening.

I enter his room.

“There you are.”

Ezra is furious.

Tiny red face.

Tiny fists.

Massive fucking opinion about something.

I lean over his cradle.

“What's all this?”

He screams at me.

“Excellent explanation.”

I pick him up.

Carefully.

Very fucking carefully, because I've already discovered today that I don't know my own strength.

He settles against my chest.

The crying stops.

Just like that.

I look down.

“You're joking.”

Ezra makes a tiny snuffling noise.

I narrow my silver eyes.

“You've been screaming for two hours because you wanted me?”

His fist curls into my shirt.

Fuck.

Something painful and warm twists behind my ribs.

I sigh.

“That's pathetic.”

I sit with him.

He presses closer.

My senses are overwhelming everywhere else.

With him, they aren't.

I hear his heart.

His breathing.

Feel his tiny warmth.

And the beast beneath my skin becomes utterly still.

Not tame.

Never tame.

I understand that instinctively.

But focused.

Like everything violent inside me has found something it considers more important than violence.

Something to guard.

I look down at Ezra.

“You know, I've just discovered I'm extremely dangerous.”

He yawns.

“Show some respect.”

His eyes close.

I stare at him.

“I broke a man's wrist with one hand.”

Nothing.

“Threw another into a tree.”

Asleep.

“Silver eyes.”

Still nothing.

I shake my head.

“Unbelievable.”

But I don't put him down.

I lean back, one hand spanning almost his entire back, listening to his tiny heartbeat.

Wild.

That's what everyone calls me.

Reckless. Messy. Impossible to control.

Maybe they're right.

Maybe whatever power finally woke inside me is proof that they are.

But holding Ezra, I understand something else too.

Wild doesn't mean without purpose.

The beast inside me doesn't want rules.

It doesn't want restraint.

It wants something worth protecting.

I look at the abandoned little brother asleep against my chest.

Well.

Apparently I've got that now.

"One day, little brother, I'll make sure you get everything you've ever wanted."