The storm had calmed by morning, but the silence it left behind was worse.
Too still. Too heavy.
Every creak of the cabin, every rustle of wind against the windows made Isabella flinch. She sat by the fire, wrapped in a blanket that smelled faintly of cedar and smoke, her eyes fixed on the faint glow of the dying embers.
Luca moved quietly across the room, his presence steady, almost grounding.
He'd changed into dry clothes black shirt, sleeves rolled up, damp hair falling into his eyes. But the exhaustion in his face betrayed that he hadn't slept.
"Eat something," he said, setting a steaming mug in front of her.
She didn't move. "I can't."
"You have to keep your strength up, Isabella."
Her eyes snapped to his. "For what? Waiting to find out if he's alive?"
The words hung between them like a curse.
Luca didn't flinch, but his jaw clenched. "You think I haven't thought of that? That I don't want to know if he.."
He stopped himself, pacing away, hands gripping the back of a chair.
Isabella rose slowly, the blanket falling from her shoulders.
"You keep saying I don't understand him. That I don't know what he's capable of." Her voice trembled. "Then tell me, Luca. Tell me what I'm not seeing."
His eyes lifted to hers dark, conflicted, almost pained. "You wouldn't believe me if I did."
"Try me."
He exhaled hard, turning away as if gathering the right words. "Damian wasn't born a monster, Isabella.
He was made into one. Every scar, every command, every drop of control he hasit's because he's never had a choice."
She blinked, confusion warring with disbelief. "Then why does he treat me like one of them? Like property?"
"Because you make him feel something he can't control," Luca said quietly. "And men like Damian… they destroy what they can't control."
Her breath caught. The truth hurt, even when it made sense.
The silence stretched again only this time, it wasn't empty. It was thick with something unspoken.
Luca stepped closer, his voice lowering. "He's not here now, Isabella. You're safe."
But the way he said safe made her heart twist.
Because there was something in his gaze that felt far more dangerous than the storm outside something raw and forbidden.
He stopped inches from her, his hand lifting as if to touch her cheek, but he froze midair. "You should rest."
She swallowed hard. "I can't."
Their eyes locked and the space between them pulsed like a heartbeat.
Then…
A soft, rhythmic tap.
Both their heads turned sharply toward the window.
Three knocks. Slow. Deliberate.
Luca's hand went instantly to his gun. Isabella's pulse spiked.
He motioned for her to stay back and moved to the door, silent as a shadow. The tapping came again, this time lower,closer.
He peered through the side window. The faintest shape stood beyond the mist , still, drenched in rain.
Then, a single whisper cut through the quiet.
"Open the door, Luca."
The mug in Isabella's hands shattered against the floor.
She knew that voice.
Damian was alive.
And he had found her.
Luca froze at the sound of Damian's voice. For a long, heavy second, neither of them moved. The rain outside hammered against the roof like a warning drum.
Then slowly Luca unlatched the door.
It swung open with a groan, and the storm seemed to bow around the man standing there.
Damian.
He was drenched, blood streaking one side of his jaw, shirt torn at the shoulder, eyes burning with something primal. His presence filled the room like smoke and thunder alive, furious, and utterly unstoppable.
For a heartbeat, Isabella couldn't breathe. She had imagined him dead, broken, lost in the explosion but here he was, standing in her doorway like a nightmare she could never escape.
Damian's gaze swept the room, landing on her. The tension that crackled through the air was alive, hot, dangerous.
Luca moved first, stepping forward. "You shouldn't be on your feet."
Damian's voice was low, dark, threaded with pain and fury. "You should've taken better care of what's mine."
The words sliced through the space like a blade.
Luca's hand tightened around his gun. "She's not…"
"Finish that sentence," Damian warned, eyes narrowing. "I dare you."
The firelight flickered, throwing sharp shadows across his face.
His clothes clung to his body, the scent of blood and smoke mixing with rain.
Isabella's knees went weak not from fear alone, but from the storm of emotions colliding inside her.
She took a step forward, her voice breaking the standoff. "Damian, stop. You're hurt…"
"I've been worse," he growled, but his gaze softened just slightly when it met hers. "You ran when you thought I was dead?"
Her lips parted, trembling. "Luca said it was too dangerous. That we had to hide…"
His jaw clenched. "From me?"
"No!" She moved closer now, her voice rising. "From whoever tried to kill you!"
The silence that followed hit like a whip.
Damian's expression shifted something flickering behind the fury in his eyes.
He looked away, chest heaving, as if struggling to contain the storm inside him.
Then, he staggered his knees buckling slightly before Luca caught him.
"Sit down before you collapse," Luca muttered, forcing him into the chair near the fire.
Damian glared but didn't resist. His breathing was shallow, blood seeping through his torn shirt.
Isabella knelt beside him, her fingers trembling as she reached for the wound.
He caught her wrist midair. "Don't."
"Damian.."
"I said don't," he repeated, his grip tightening, though his voice cracked with exhaustion. "I don't need your pity."
She met his gaze, her chin trembling. "It's not pity. It's fear. You almost died, and you think that doesn't matter?"
Something in his expression faltered raw, human for the briefest heartbeat.
Luca turned away, giving them space but never lowering his guard.
Damian's hand loosened, his fingers brushing her skin instead. "You shouldn't care, Bella.
" His voice softened to a dangerous whisper. "Caring for me will destroy you."
Her throat tightened. "Maybe I already am."
The fire cracked between them, throwing sparks. The air was charged too heavy, too intimate.
Damian leaned closer, his breath ghosting against her lips. "Don't say things you don't mean."
She whispered, trembling, "What if I do mean them?"
His lips hovered a breath away from hers. "Then you're already mine in every way that counts."
Luca's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "Enough."
They both turned. He was standing by the window, the gun in his hand, his jaw tight. "We've got company."
Isabella's pulse spiked.
Damian was instantly alert, all weakness vanishing. "How many?"
"Three cars. No headlights." Luca's tone was clipped, ready.