DAMIEN’S POV
I sat behind my desk, staring blankly at the mountain of paperwork in front of me. My hands hovered over a document I’d been pretending to review for the past hour, but the words just blurred together into meaningless scribbles.
Every tick of the clock sounded like a gunshot in my ears, each second a cruel reminder that I hadn’t been to see her.
The door to my office creaked open, snapping me out of my trance.
Nathan stepped in, his expression unreadable. As soon as I saw him, I shot to my feet, my heart racing.
“How is she?” The question burst out of me before I could even think.
Nathan closed the door quietly behind him. Instead of answering, he strode across the room and dropped into the chair in front of my desk.
He leaned back, folding his arms over his chest, staring at me like he was trying to figure me out.
“Why are you avoiding Anna?” he asked bluntly.
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I clenched my jaw and looked away, sinking slowly back into my chair.
I didn't owe him an explanation.
Nathan leaned forward, his voice low but sharp. “You should go see her, Damien. She’s not just ‘hurt,’ she’s in a bad shape. She’s broken, and you could give her strength. You should give her strength.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I wanted to go. Every damn second since we rescued her, I had wanted nothing more than to see her, hold her, tell her I was sorry.
But the guilt was like a chain around my neck, dragging me down, whispering that she was better off without me.
“I’m busy,” I muttered, looking away.
Nathan let out a short, humorless laugh. “Busy?” he echoed, rising to his feet. “Three days, Damien. Three days since you watched her get carried into the hospital half-dead. Three days of silence from you.”
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
Nathan shook his head in disbelief. “You made me promise not to tell her you came with me. You made me swear she wouldn’t know you were there... why? So you could pretend you’re some cold-hearted bastard who doesn’t care?”
I stiffened in my seat, the weight of his words pressing down on me.
“You love her,” Nathan continued, voice rising slightly. “You damn well love her. I remember you rambling like a lovesick fool about how you’d burn the world down for her.”
He mimicked my voice, throwing my own words back at me with biting sarcasm.
"I’ll burn the world down for her, Nathan. She’s my mate, my everything."
Hearing my own voice twisted like that, hearing the truth that I was now running from, was too much. I shot to my feet, grabbing my briefcase roughly off the desk.
“I’m heading home,” I said stiffly.
Nathan stepped aside, but his eyes didn’t leave mine. “At least check on Anna before you go,” he said quietly.
I said nothing. I just walked past him, my steps mechanical, my heart a heavy stone in my chest.
The moment I stepped outside, the cool air hit me, but it didn’t soothe the burning in my lungs.
I slid into the backseat of the black SUV and barked out a terse, “Home,” to my driver.
The ride was silent. Too silent.
I stared out the window, barely seeing the passing streets. All I could think about was Anna.
Her soft laugh. Her softness.
The way her eyes lit up when she was passionate about something. The way she had looked at me, with so much trust, when I promised to protect her.
And now?
Now she was lying in a hospital bed, battered and bruised, because of me.
Because of me.
I dug my fingers into my hair, leaning forward with a groan. I didn’t know if I could survive another night without her. I didn’t know if I could survive another minute.
But the logic, the brutal, cruel logic, told me I had to let her go. Our engagement was public now.
Every rival, every enemy would see her as a target. If they thought we weren’t together anymore, maybe... maybe they’d leave her alone.
The car pulled into the driveway, and the driver killed the engine. I sat there for a moment, gripping the handle but not moving.
Finally, with a resigned breath, I opened the door and stepped out. I walked up the steps, reaching for the door handle. The second I opened it, her scent hit me.
My heart stopped.
I froze, my hand still on the door, my brain struggling to catch up. The soft, delicate scent of roses and vanilla, the scent that haunted my dreams, filled the air.
Slowly, I stepped inside.
There she was.
Anna.
Sitting on my sofa, looking so small and fragile it made my chest ache. Her arm was still in a thick bandage. Her eyes were puffy and red, as if she had been crying for hours.