Alpha Damon novel Chapter 112

Damon:

She was still asleep.

Sienna was curled up on my chest, the soft rise and fall of her breathing the only sound in the room besides the faint rustle of the sheets. Her fingers rested just above my heart, her legs tangled with mine beneath the blankets. She was wearing nothing but my shirt, barely buttoned, and even in her sleep, she held onto me like she belonged there.

And damn it, she did.

Just as I belonged to her. I knew that she belonged to me and I did not want to change it. I did not want this to be any other way.

I didn’t know how long I just lay there, watching her sleep, memorizing the way her lashes fanned across her cheeks, the peaceful parting of her lips. Her face was softer than I’d seen it in weeks, maybe months. No tension in her brows. No sadness in her eyes. Just peace. Just contentment. She was not fighting to prove a point, and she was not trying to protect something. It was just her doing the moment, living the peace of it, and I found myself wanting to admire every moment of it.

It made something tight in my chest ease.

And I knew, this was what I wanted to wake up to every single morning. That this was not something that I wanted to lose. No matter what was going to happen, I wanted to hold on to it.

I gently shifted, careful not to wake her, and slipped out from under her. She stirred but didn’t wake. The blanket slipped down her shoulder, exposing the curve of her collarbone and a glimpse of the mark I’d left there the night before.

Mine.

It was a love bite. I knew that it did not have it in myself to mark her. Not that way. Not after she had reminded me of what I did to her. I was just thankful that we managed to somehow past that moment. But I was going to be sure to remind her that she was mine and I was hers until the end of time, until I knew that she could trust me enough not to feel the pain of my first rejection.

I smiled as I buttoned the shirt she wore properly and tucked the blankets around her. I kissed her forehead gently, letting my lips linger there for a moment before pulling on some sweatpants and heading into the kitchen.

Breakfast.

I didn’t give a damn about meetings or emails or anything else. Not today.

Today, I was going to make her breakfast.

Well, technically I was going to need the maids to help me make breakfast as I knew that I never stepped inside the kitchen to cook once at least. At least, not a proper romantic meal I knew to make the basics, but I wanted something that was special.

She’d been through hell. She’d fought harder than anyone I knew. And for once, she deserved a morning where everything was easy.

I wanted something to remind her that she was going to be mine, to show her that I was going to do everything that it took to prove it to her, to prove it to everyone that was around.

I kept it simple, just eggs, toast, fresh fruit, and tea. I knew she liked her tea light, with just a hint of honey. I remembered.

And while the food warmed, I walked down the hall to where Isla was laying in the nursery. One of the maids was taking care of her, and judging by mom’s fresh scent, I knew that

The moment she saw me, she let out a soft coo.

“Hey, princess,” I whispered, scooping her up. “Let’s go surprise Mommy.”

She fit perfectly in my arms now, no longer that fragile newborn. She was still small, still precious, but stronger, just like her mother. And I knew that she was only going to be stronger. The older she grew, the more powerful she was going to become. And I was going to be sure that the world feared her.

I was going to be sure that each and everyone who bothered just respect her or her mother paid the price.

When I returned to our room, Sienna was stirring, her brows furrowed as if the sunlight streaming in was too much. She rolled over, groaning softly before her eyes fluttered open.

She blinked.

Once.

Twice.

I fed Sienna strawberries while she nursed Isla.

She rested her head against my shoulder while I played with Isla’s tiny fingers.

We didn’t talk about responsibilities. Or Giovanni. Or Lysandra. Or the pack.

It was just us.

A man.

A woman.

And the little girl who somehow brought us back together.

Sienna eventually dozed off again, Isla nestled in her arms. I lay beside them, one arm around both of them, holding onto the only peace I’d ever known.

This, this right here, wasn’t something I ever expected to find.

But I had it.

And I wasn’t letting it go.

Not now. Not ever.