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Damian’s dark eyes search my face, a tender vulnerability flickering across his expression. He seems to be gauging my reaction.
I gaze up at him, my own heart pounding with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. Had he really said those three little words?
Or is it simply my own desperate desire to hear them manifesting in my mind?
23
ALEXIS
Over the next few weeks, I can’t stop thinking about what happened at the Carter house. How could I have been so stupid as to go back there?
I cringe as I remember the terror I had felt when Mark grabbed me and dragged me into the house. But the part that weighs heaviest on my heart is the memory of pulling that trigger, of taking a life, even if it was Mark’s.
I’m not sorry that Mark is gone. He had been a vile, abusive man who had been planning to sell me to The Brotherhood. At that moment, I knew I had no choice. It was either kill him or he would kill me.
And yet, the guilt still gnaws at me. I had never taken a life before, not even in self-defense. The weight of that responsibility is crushing. I know that taking a life—even a wretched one like Mark’s—will change me forever. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.
Damian had found me trapped under Mark’s body, terrified but alive. He held me and soothed me, trying to tell me that the first kill is always the hardest.
Like he expects me to do it again.
I can’t shake the feeling that I had crossed some invisible line, that I lost a piece of my own humanity.
As much as I know my actions had been justified, I can’t silence the voice in my head that keeps asking, what kind of person am I now? The thought of having to take a life again, to defend myself or the people I love, fills me with a deep, unsettling dread.
I need to learn how to protect myself, to be strong and capable. That moment in the Carter house where I became the wolf feels like a fluke, like it was just a survival instinct.
But the price of that power now feels far too high. With a heavy heart, I resolve to find another way, one that doesn’t require me to become a killer.
I seek out Damian first. Since that night, I feel like our relationship has changed. He seeks me out more, and I’ve started spending some nights in his room. My cheeks turn red as I recall how many times Damian and I have had sex since then, too. He’s insatiable, but I also can’t get enough of him.
“I need you to teach me how to defend myself,” I tell Damian in his office.
He looks up at me, an eyebrow raised. To my dismay, he flatly refuses. “Absolutely not. I’m not letting you out of my sight ever again. You’re staying right here where it’s safe.”
I bristle at his patronizing tone. “That’s not a good enough reason! I was able to defend myself against Mark?—”
“That was luck, Alexis,” Damian says sharply, setting down his pen. “Not skill.”
“I’m not a child, Damian! I need to be able to take care of myself. I can’t just rely on you to protect me all the time.”
But Damian’s unmovable.
Gritting my teeth, I storm out of the office and run into Nat. Thankfully, once Nat hears my request, she immediately acquiesces.
“Of course you should learn how to shoot a gun! You can’t just rely on the men to save you, especially my idiot brother.”
Nat wastes no time in roping Edo into helping teach me some self-defense moves. “Edo’s the best person I know when it comes to this stuff,” Nat says confidently. “He’s going to show you some killer techniques.”
We meet in the home gym, and Edo gestures for me to stand facing him. “Okay, let’s start with some basic strikes. The key is using your whole body, not just your arm.” He demonstrates a sharp jab, pivoting his hips to generate power. “You try it.”
I mimic the movement, my fist snapping forward.
“Good, but really put your weight into it. Use your legs to drive the strike.” He repeats the motion, his powerful muscles contracting. He nods approvingly as I repeat the punch, my eyes narrowing in concentration.
Next, Edo shows me how to block an incoming strike. “When someone comes at you, don’t just try to stop their hand. Redirect the force.” He has me practice parrying his own strikes, guiding them safely aside.
“Now let’s work on escapes. You’ve had way too many fucking people grab you recently. If someone grabs you—” Edo suddenly lunges forward, his hand closing around my upper arms. In one fluid motion, I pivot, pulling free and striking the side of Edo’s neck with the heel of my hand.
