Alpha Damon (Sienna) novel Chapter 313

Carter:

It was over.

Her effect on me was now gone.

At least… for now.

But I knew that it wouldn’t last for long. She was going to try again and I might have to fight again. But I knew now that I could, that I didn’t need to keep running away, but I did not need to keep hiding.

The mist was gone from my skin, but it lingered in my chest. It made me alive, but I knew that I couldn’t do anything about it. I just watched in silence as the memory played in my mind. A cold memory. Like ash after the fire. I could still hear her sometimes, in the silence between blinks, in the hollow spaces of my breath.

It was hard for me to keep thinking about it, but I knew that if I did not hold on to it, I wouldn’t be able to stop. All of this was not going to stop.

But I’d resisted. I resisted her.

I’d stopped myself. I didn’t kill Lysandra.

I didn’t charge her like she wanted me to. I did not listen to the voices that played in my mind.

And that had to count for something… right? At least to me it did.

My body hurt. Every inch of it screamed. My knuckles were raw, fingers bandaged. My ribs felt like they’d caved in and forgotten how to hold me up. I had fought harder than I did before, but I knew that it was worth it one way or the other. It was something that I felt like was worth it.

I sat on the edge of a cot, bare chest heaving, sweat slicking my skin. The cell was no longer locked, not because they trusted me, but because Lysandra said she didn’t need a lock. Because she said that she trusted me.

She was here now.

Her eyes meeting mine as she walked inside the room, her eyes being fixed on me as she spoke gently. She was the one person that seemed to trust me more than anything, that was willing to take care of me.

She kneeled in front of me, a bowl of warm soup in her hand, a damp cloth resting on the table beside her. Her hair was tied back, simple, out of her face. But her eyes… god, those eyes.

They didn’t flinch anymore. She didn’t try to run away anymore.

“You’re staring,” she said without looking up. “And you have been for the past few moments.”

“Can you blame me?” I rasped. “After everything, can you really think about being more for how I feel?”

She glanced at me, lips twitching. “A little, yeah. Because you don’t need to know anything about it. What I did, there was nothing.”

“Are you still going to feed me?” I asked, choosing to change the subject.

“Only because I don’t want to scrub your blood off the walls again.” She said, making my eyes soften.

I chuckled. Winced. Even that hurt.

She dipped the spoon into the soup, blew on it gently, then held it up to my lips.

I paused. “I can…”

“Eat,” she said simply. “I’m not here to argue with you or to allow you to question this. I’m going to do it. You need to eat and you need me to help you.”

So I did.

The broth burned on the way down, but it grounded me. It gave me something real to focus on besides the chaos in my head.

“You didn’t have to help me,” I muttered, swallowing thickly. “Everything that you did, you didn’t have to do it.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you still here?”

She didn’t answer immediately. She dipped the cloth in the basin, wrung it out, and gently touched it to the cut on my temple.

Her fingers were warm.

Steady.

She was careful as not to hurt me as she gently dabbed the cloth on my forehead.

She pulled back slightly. Her eyes flickered over my face, uncertain.

“Is this okay?” she asked softly. “If I…”

I didn’t let her finish.

I kissed her.

It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t perfect, either.

It was healing.

It was quiet.

Her lips were soft against mine, cautious at first, then stronger, as if we were both realizing that we didn’t need to be afraid of what came next.

I rested my hand against her cheek, and she leaned into it.

When we pulled apart, she didn’t move far.

Neither of us spoke right away. We didn’t need to.

But eventually, she whispered, “You should rest.”

I nodded. “Stay?”

She stood and climbed into the cot beside me, careful of my wounds, resting her head against my shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And for the first time since this war began… I believed someone when they said it.