Alpha Damon (Sienna) novel Chapter 32

“Okay,” I whispered, my voice small. “I’ll go.”

Evelyn squeezed my shoulder gently. “Good. I’ll have one of the maids prepare some fresh linens. You’ll have privacy, and if you need anything, just ask. You needn’t worry, I am going to be here, and by your side to help teach you. I was a first time mother too, I know how hard it can be if you feel alone.”

I managed a nod, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over me. “Thank you.”

She lingered for a moment, her gaze searching mine. “Sienna, this isn’t a punishment. You need to understand that. Damon… he’s struggling too. He is trying to accept the fact that he has a daughter and with everything being new to him, it is going to take time.’

A cold shiver ran down my spine at the mention of his name. “I’m not sure I care how he feels.”

Evelyn didn’t press further. She simply gave me a small, understanding smile and turned toward the door. “When you’re ready, I’ll walk you there. I am sure that it is going to be a path that the two of us can take carefully together.”

As the door closed behind her, I let out a shuddering breath. My fingers gripped the windowsill, my knuckles turning white. I looked back at Isla, her tiny form a beacon in the sterile room beyond the glass.

“I’ll be close by, little one,” I whispered. “I won’t leave you. I promise.”

Gathering what little strength I had left, I forced my legs to move, each step taking me further away from the glass window and closer to the room where my childhood still lingered.

The journey down the hallway felt like stepping back through time. The walls bore the same muted colors, the same worn edges where years of hands had brushed against them. It was like nothing had changed, yet everything was different.

I sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight. My fingers traced the faded pattern of the quilt, memories bubbling to the surface, each one a reminder of who I used to be.

But as I lay back, staring at the ceiling, I knew that the girl who once lived here was gone. In her place was someone else, someone who had been hurt, broken, but who still had a fight left in her.

And for Isla, for my daughter, I would find the strength to use it.