Alpha Damon (Sienna) novel Chapter 55

Damon:

The sounds of fists hitting flesh and the dull thud of bodies hitting the ground echoed through the training field. The crisp morning air was filled with tension, the scent of sweat and exertion heavy between us.

The park had been quiet and calm for the past few weeks. If anything, nothing out of the ordinary seemed to happen. We seem to be living at a peace that I was actually thankful for, one that seemed to have disappeared for a while.

Sienna had been pushing herself harder these past few weeks, and I had to admit, she was improving. No longer the fragile girl who once collapsed in my arms, she was now a force to be reckoned with. Even the pack members had started noticing her growing strength.

And I had been noticing her.

And it was different when I noticed her. With each passing moment I could feel something happening, something different, something more… dangerous.

Ethan had been helping her too, only this time it was a little less intimate than I believed it to be before. He was being genuinely kind with helping her. But was also maintaining a safe distance.

Her movements were sharper, more controlled. Her stamina had increased significantly. And today, for the first time, she was fighting with the kind of determination that made my wolf stir with something unspoken.

Something I wasn’t sure I wanted to acknowledge.

Each one of the pack members had done their duty to help her. The betas have helped her with training. The gammas have even noticed her strength and were willing to offer a few tips as to ensure that she did not end up falling or weakening. And I knew that if it was anyone else, she would have risen to more power. Her rank would have been different. It would have been higher than her simply being an Omega. 1

And I knew that this was something that even the pack members wanted or maybe were waiting for me to make as a decision. But I was not helping her train because I wanted her to rise in her rank. She was the mother of my daughter. And that was something that was proud of. I was making sure that she understood that, that everyone understood it. She lunged at me, her form fluid, her muscles tightening as she went in for a punch. I dodged her first hit, but she was quick, quicker than I expected. She pivoted on her heel and struck again, her fist coming dangerously close to my face. This was not the first time. It was a few times where she nearly slapped me or punched me in the face. Thankfully, each time I managed to dodge her blows, only this time I knew that had it been a split second extra, I would have gotten the punch in my face.

I caught her wrist at the last second, twisting her arm just enough to throw her off balance. She gasped as I spun her around, pressing her back flush against my chest, my grip firm around her wrist. I put my hand on her waist, looking down at her for a few moments, inhaling her scent, a small smile forming on my lips as I did.

The second she was against me, something shifted.

The sparring field around us seemed to disappear, the onlookers fading into the background. It was as if it was just the two of us. No one around mattered. There was no one by our sides. It was just me and her.

I could feel every breath she took, her chest rising and falling against mine, her body heat seeping into me. Her scent filled my senses, something sweet and infuriatingly familiar.

Her muscles tensed beneath my grip, but she didn’t pull away. She did not try to move away from my grip, nor did I try to loosen it.

I leaned in slightly, my lips close to her ear, my voice low.

“Dead,” I whispered, my hot breath hitting her ear and neck. “Again.”

She shuddered.

I could feel it. The way her breath hitched, the way her fingers flexed as if debating whether to fight me off or stay exactly where she was.

For a brief second, I almost didn’t let her go.

And two months since Isla had finally been freed from the incubator and nursing care.

She was healthy. Strong. Thriving.

And so was her mother.

I studied Sienna for a moment, watching as she brushed a few loose strands of hair from her face, pretending like the moment we had just shared hadn’t affected her.

Like it hadn’t shaken her.

I knew better.

And as she turned to grab a towel from the bench, muttering something under her breath, I allowed myself a small, knowing smirk.

She wasn’t the only one shaken.

And that was dangerous.