Chapter 11
Apr 17, 2025
“Felicia,” Damien’s deep, commanding voice cut through the buzz of the Full Moon Festival, stopping her in her tracks. She froze, clutching Danny and Max’s hands tightly. “We need to talk. Now.”
Felicia straightened her shoulders and turned to face him. Her heart raced as her steel-gray eyes met his piercing green gaze. He looked just as he always had—strong, authoritative, and painfully handsome. But his stare wasn’t on her. It was locked on the two boys hiding behind her legs.
“I have nothing to say to you, Damien,” she replied, her voice firm yet trembling slightly. “Excuse me.”
But he stepped in front of her, blocking her path. His towering presence felt suffocating, yet it didn’t intimidate her. It never had. Felicia’s pride wouldn’t allow it. Still, the fire in his eyes made her chest tighten.
“Don’t play games with me, Felicia,” Damien growled. His gaze flicked down to the boys before returning to her, burning with suspicion. “Who are they?”
Felicia’s hand tightened on Max’s small fingers, and she stepped forward protectively. “They’re none of your business,” she snapped, her tone icy. “Now step aside.”
“The hell they aren’t my business.” His voice dropped to a menacing whisper, low enough that the children wouldn’t hear but sharp enough to pierce through her. “Those boys… they look exactly like me.”
Felicia swallowed hard, her resolve wavering for just a moment before she forced herself to stand firm. “Don’t be ridiculous, Damien,” she said, keeping her voice calm and collected. “The world doesn’t revolve around you. Not every child with green eyes belongs to you.”
Damien’s eyes narrowed, and a muscle in his jaw ticked. “Don’t lie to me, Felicia. I can feel it. The way they look… the way they move… I know.”
She refused to meet his gaze, focusing instead on Danny, who was tugging at her hand nervously. “Come on, boys,” she said, trying to guide them past Damien. “Let’s go find Uncle Orion.”
But Damien’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist—not forcefully, but enough to stop her in her tracks. She glared at him, her body tense with anger. “Let me go, Damien,” she hissed.
“Not until you tell me the truth.” His voice softened, but the edge of desperation crept in. “Felicia… are they mine?”
Her heart sank, but she refused to let him see the storm raging inside her. She wrenched her arm free and stood tall, her chin lifting defiantly. “No,” she said coldly. “They’re not.”
Damien’s face hardened, but his eyes betrayed the hurt beneath. “You expect me to believe that?”
Felicia felt her walls starting to crack, but she clung to her composure. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she said. “You forfeited any right to know anything about me or my children five years ago.”
His fists clenched at his sides, but he said nothing. Felicia used the opportunity to guide the boys away, her hands shaking as she held onto them. She didn’t look back, even though she could feel Damien’s gaze boring into her back.
Later that evening, as the boys played quietly in their shared room, Damien remained on the festival grounds, pacing near the bonfire. His mind raced with a thousand unanswered questions. He couldn’t let this go. Not when everything inside him screamed that those boys were his.
He turned to leave but stopped when he noticed Max’s jacket lying on a nearby bench. Frowning, he picked it up, intending to return it. But as he grabbed it, a small piece of paper fell from the pocket.
He bent to pick it up, freezing as he unfolded it. His breath caught in his throat.
It was a crayon drawing, simple but clear. A family of wolves. Two small wolves, one slightly bigger wolf labeled “Mommy,” and the largest wolf… a spitting image of him, labeled “Daddy.”
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