Matthew slowly removed his hand.
Sofia felt the warmth leave her face as he stepped back.
Damien’s gaze went straight to her. She was still wrapped in his coat. Still shaking.
For a second... sothing painful flickered in his eyes.
Then it was gone.
"Leave," Damien said to Mathew, his voice flat.
Matthew hesitated. "Damien, she—"
"Leave," Damien repeated, sharper this ti.
Matthew looked at Sofia, worry written all over his face. "I’ll co back," he whispered to her.
Then he walked away.
The door closed softly behind him.
Sofia and Damien were alone again.
And the silence between them was louder than any scream.
"What was that?" Damien asked with a barely controlled rage.
Sofia didn’t answer.
His eyes darkened at her silence.
"So," he went on, his voice turning cold, " having you wasn’t enough? You needed him too?"
Sofia’s head snapped up. Her eyes widened. "No—"
But the words died in her throat.
The fear.
The shock.
The exhaustion.
She just stood there, silent.
That silence was like a match to dry fire.
Damien’s anger exploded.
In two long strides, he was in front of her. He grabbed her arm and shoved her back against the wall. The impact knocked the breath out of her.
"Don’t you forget why you’re still breathing," he growled, his face inches from hers. "You are alive because of . Because I chose you. You belong to . I am the reason you’re still here."
Sofia’s back pressed into the cold wall. Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst.
She stared at him.
Not with anger.
Not with fear.
But with confusion and hurt.
This was not the boy she had grown up with.
This was not the Damien who used to smile at her, who used to protect her, who once promised she would never have a reason to be afraid.
Slowly, she lifted her hand.
Damien froze when her fingers touched his cheek.
Her touch was soft. Gentle.
"What happened to you?" she whispered.
For a split second, Damien’s breath hitched.
For a split second, the anger cracked.
But then he slapped her hand away.
"Don’t you ever touch ," he snapped.
His eyes burned. "You will be punished."
Sofia swallowed. "For what?" she asked quietly. "What did I do?"
His face darkened.
"For letting another man touch you."
Her heart sank.
Matthew...
All he had done was show concern.
Sofia looked at Damien again and wondered how the kindest boy she had ever known had turned into this monster standing in front of her.
"You will kneel under the sun," he said coldly. "Until I say otherwise."
Sofia’s breath caught.
"Kneel?" she whispered.
But Damien was already turning away.
He didn’t look back.
The door slamd behind him.
Sofia stood there for a mont, stunned, the words still ringing in her ears. Then her legs gave out. She sank slowly to the floor, not crying, not screaming—just empty. Too tired to even feel the pain.
Monts later, two guards stepped into the room.
They didn’t need to say a word.
Sofia nodded weakly and rose on shaking legs. She followed them through the halls, wrapped in Damien’s coat, her head low.
Outside, the heat of the yard hit her at once.
The guards led her to the center of the open ground and stopped.
"Kneel."
Sofia lowered herself to the dirt.
Around her, servants and slaves paused in their work. So stared with cold judgnt. So looked away. A few watched with sothing that looked too much like pity.
Sofia kept her eyes down.
Her knees pressed into the hard ground. The sun burned her skin. Her body was already weak, already bruised, and now it felt like the heat was sinking straight into her bones.
Ti passed.
Minutes.
Long, painful minutes.
Her legs began to tremble. Her back ached. Her head felt light.
Then the air shifted.
The sky darkened.
A low rumble rolled through the clouds.
And suddenly—
Rain.
Heavy drops fell from the sky, soaking the ground in seconds.
Sofia flinched as the cold water hit her skin.
No.
Her breath hitched.
Rain was the worst for her.
Her body was sensitive to it. Even light rain made her sick. Heavy rain made her weak, dizzy, feverish.
And this—
This was pouring.
Water soaked through Damien’s coat. Her hair clung to her face. Her thin clothes stuck to her skin.
Everyone was inside the mansion. Only Sofia was outside.
Her teeth began to chatter. Her arms wrapped around herself, trying to keep in what little warmth she had left. Her body shook harder and harder as the rain kept falling.
People watched.
So with cruelty.
So with helpless pity.
But no one stepped forward.
High above, on the balcony...
Damien stood.
His hands were clenched on the railing as he watched the rain drench her pitiful figure below.
His wolf paced inside him, restless, uneasy.
And even though his face stayed hard, he felt unease.... No matter how much he told himself he hated her, sothing in his chest hurt in a way he did not want to understand.
Unable to stand and watch her, he turned and left the balcony.
He walked back into his room and slamd the door.
A glass of dry gin was already on the table. He grabbed the bottle and poured without care, the liquid splashing against the sides, his hands shaking.
"Get a grip," he muttered to himself, lifting the glass. "Don’t let her fool you. Don’t let that pitiful look deceive you."
He drank.
The burn in his throat did nothing to quiet his heart.
"She’s a liar," he told himself. "A girl who hides behind an innocent face. A traitor. A murderer."
He sat down, but he was not at rest.
His mind betrayed him as mories from years ago replayed in his mind.
The sky had been dark that day, heavy with clouds. He was nineteen, and Sofia was fourteen.
"Sofia, let’s run," he had said, laughing as the first drops fell. "Co on!"
She had hesitated.
Just for a second.
He rembered how her soft, curvy body had shifted nervously beside him, how her lips had parted like she wanted to say sothing.
She could have told him.
She could have said no.
But she hadn’t.
She had smiled instead.
"Okay," she had said softly. "Let’s go."
They had run through the rain, laughing, splashing through puddles, spinning like fools under the sky.
But after twenty minutes, he noticed sothing was wrong.
Sofia’s steps had slowed.
Her face had gone pale.
Her lips had started to tremble.
"Hey," he had said, catching her hand. "What’s wrong?"
She had tried to smile.
"I’m... I’m fine..."
But then she had swayed.
And collapsed.
He rembered how his heart had nearly stopped as he caught her before she hit the ground. How cold her skin had been. How weak her breathing sounded.
Rain allergy.
That was what the healer said.
Since that day, Damien had never let her be in the rain again.
Whenever clouds gathered, he made sure she was already inside.
And now...
Damien’s hand tightened around the glass.
Now she was kneeling alone in the rain because of him. A scary thought passed through his mind... what if she dies in the rain?
"No," he whispered sharply, standing up.
He moved back toward the balcony, his steps fast, his heart pounding.
He needed to see her.
He needed to make sure—
He stepped out.
And froze.
The yard was empty.
The place where Sofia had been kneeling was bare. Only wet ground and rain remained.
She was gone.
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