329 My Decision Damien’s POV

I left the room, and outside I saw Olivia waiting. The moment I saw her, I released a deep sigh and approached her. “Thank you for your help,” I said sincerely.

Because if I let myself go there—if I let myself be the man who loved her instead of the man she’d betrayed—then every decision I’d already made would shatter. I needed her to understand the weight of what she’d done. I needed to keep the upper hand, to make sure she knew I wasn’t asking anymore, that I was taking.

“I’ll come with you,” she said, her voice low but unwavering.

Her eyes lifted to mine, and for one heartbeat too long, I let her see it—the truth I was trying to hide. The love. The longing. The part of me that had never stopped wanting her, even when I should have.

I wanted her with me. Hell, I’d wanted her with me every day since the moment she left, since the moment I realized she’d taken not just my son but a part of me I could never get back. And despite the fury boiling in my veins, despite the sting of betrayal and the poison of our families’ history, my feelings for her had never changed.

“I thought-” she began, but I cut her off with a sharp, bitter laugh.

I watched her go, every muscle in my body tense with the effort it took to stay where I was instead of following her in.

“And she has a good reason for that,” Olivia interrupted softly. “You can want all the rage you want, but you can’t deny the fact that most women would have done what she did.”

I stared at her, my brows knitting. “She kept my son from me-”

I couldn’t.

She looked pale, eyes still red from crying, but there was a steadiness in her that hadn’t been there before. Her gaze flicked briefly to Olivia, then landed on me.

“Damien…” her voice was calm but carried a weight that made me pause, “don’t be too harsh on her.”

But I didn’t move.

I tore my gaze away before she could read it all. Before she could use it to get to me.

I watched her, the way her hands trembled against her skirt, the way her lashes clung together from tears. My wolf howled in my chest, wanting—needing—to close the space between us, to wipe those tears, to pull her against me and bury my face in her hair until the scent of her was burned into me again.

And yet, holding myself back felt like trying to stop myself from breathing. My chest burned with it, my jaw ached from clenching too hard. Every shaky breath she took chipped away at the wall I’d built, and I hated how badly I wanted to destroy it myself. “The decision is yours to make… it’s whether you come with us back to my home, or you come visit him whenever you want,” I said, my voice a low growl meant to mask everything else inside me. Then I turned my back to her, because if I didn’t, I knew I’d break my own damn rules.

Her eyes widened as the realization dawned on her that this wasn’t a negotiation. “I’m taking him back home with me, and it’s left for you to decide if you want to come with us or not,” I spat.

I gave a curt nod, forcing my voice to stay even. “Good. Then pack whatever you need. We leave as soon as the healers clear him for travel.”

Her tears fell harder, her lips trembling, but it didn’t soothe me. If anything, it fueled my anger.

My hands trembled, not from weakness, but from the force it took to stop myself from putting a hole through the wall. I had just walked out of an operating room, given a part of myself for my son, and instead of relief, all I could taste was the bitterness of the years I’d lost. I stared at Sofia, every breath like a growl I had to choke back. She stood there, clutching herself like she could hide from the truth, from me. My wolf clawed against my skin, furious and wild.

For a long moment, the room was nothing but the sound of her unsteady breathing and the pounding of my own pulse. My wolf settled slightly, satisfied with the truth laid bare, but my rage was far from gone.

I leaned down slightly, my voice dropping to something cold, something that made her shiver. “You can hate me. You can fight me. But you will never—never—take him away from me again. If I have to burn down the world to make sure of that, I will.”

Something in my chest shifted. There was still anger there, but it tangled with something softer. My wolf surged, almost triumphant, and it took everything in me not to show just how much her words meant to me.

But even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were a damn lie.

Her words struck deeper than I wanted to admit. My jaw tightened, but I didn’t argue. She was right, damn it.

“You thought you knew better than me? You thought you had the right to decide I didn’t exist in his life?” I stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet my gaze. “I am his father. And if you think for one damn second I’m going to step aside and let you keep him from me again, you’re out of your mind.”

The truth was, they’d only gotten worse. More consuming.

Before I could reply, the door to the room behind us opened. Footsteps approached, and when I turned, there she was—my Sofia.

She swallowed hard, her chin lifting just slightly. “I can’t stay away from him, Damien. I can’t… I won’t. He’s my son. If you’re taking him home, I’m coming too.”

She nodded but didn’t say a word, but I knew I had a lot to say to her. “I’m sorry for all the things I did to you… I know apologizing will not change the fact that I did terrible things to you, but I just want you to know that I am sorry. I was just a man in love, which resulted in me doing stupid things,” I apologized sincerely.

Yet Olivia didn’t respond. She just stood there, her eyes steady on mine, as if she was deciding whether my words were worth accepting. Then, finally, she spoke.

She nodded once, then glanced down at the floor, as if gathering herself, before brushing past me to return to our son’s bedside.

I straightened, my jaw locked. “From this moment on,” I said slowly and deliberately, “he’s with me. I don’t care about your excuses, your fears, or our family’s damn feud. He’s mine. And I will be in his life—every day, every second—whether you like it or not.”

For a second, I thought I’d misheard her. “What?”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t move away this time. She stood there, rooted, as if my words pinned her in place.

“You don’t understand what you’ve done,” I said, my voice low but vibrating with barely restrained fury. “You stole moments I can never get back. His first steps. His first words. The first time he called for his father-” My voice caught, and I hated myself for it. I swallowed hard, shoving the weakness down. “Those are mine, Sofia. They were mine, and you threw them away.”