The Scorned Luna-Chapter 34: Rage

Sofia didn’t smell the familiar scent of Damien. Instead, a familiar, kind scent filled the air.

It was Matthew.

He knelt beside her, quickly pulling a hidden bundle from under his cloak. Inside was a bowl of warm stew and a small vial of healing medicine.

"Sofia," he whispered, his eyes filled with pain. "Eat this. Quickly."

"Matthew, no," she gasped, her voice trembling with fear. "He told everyone... no food. If he catches you, he’ll kill you. Please, just leave me."

"I don’t care about his orders," Matthew said firmly. He ignored her pleas and began to spoon the warm liquid into her mouth. For a moment, the warmth of the food and the medicine made Sofia feel human again. Matthew wiped a stray tear from her cheek, his touch gentle and full of the affection Damien had thrown away.

Suddenly, the door didn’t just creak—it shattered off its hinges.

Damien stood there, his eyes glowing a predatory gold. He looked at the bowl in Matthew’s hand, then at the way Matthew was cradling Sofia’s head. The air in the tiny room became thick with killing intent.

"I gave an order," Damien said, his voice a low, vibrating growl.

"Your order was a death sentence!" Matthew stood up, facing his Alpha. "She is dying, Damien! Look at her!"

"Get out," Damien hissed. Then he paused, a cruel smile touching his lips. "Actually, stay. Let’s finish this. Not as Alpha and Beta. No titles. Just two men. Maybe when I’m done beating you, you’ll finally stay away from my property."

Suddenly, the room exploded into violence.

They didn’t wait. Within seconds, the sound of tearing fabric and breaking bones filled the small space as both men shifted into their wolves. Damien was a massive black beast with fur like midnight, and Matthew was a sleek, powerful grey.

Sofia screamed, pulling herself into a corner as the two wolves tore into each other. They were destroying everything—her small table snapped, her bed was tossed aside. Outside, guards and maids rushed to the doorway, but none dared to interfere.

Damien was a "Special One"—a wolf gifted with unnatural strength. He was a monster in combat. Matthew was a skilled fighter, but he was no match for the raw power Damien possessed. The black wolf pinned Matthew against the wall, his claws sinking deep into the grey wolf’s shoulder.

Sofia saw the blood. She saw Matthew weakening. She knew if she didn’t do something, Damien would kill him in his blind rage.

"Stop it! Please!" she shrieked.

Driven by desperate, foolish courage, Sofia rushed forward. She threw her body between the two snarling beasts just as Damien’s massive paw swung through the air, aimed at Matthew’s throat.

Damien didn’t see her. He couldn’t stop.

The heavy, clawed blow landed squarely against the side of Sofia’s head.

Her body was thrown across the room like a rag doll. She hit the floor and went limp instantly, her eyes rolling back as darkness claimed her.

The room went deathly silent.

The massive black wolf froze. The red haze of rage vanished, replaced by cold, soul-crushing horror. Damien shifted back into his human form instantly, standing naked and trembling in the middle of the wreckage.

"Sofia?" he choked out, his voice breaking.

He scrambled across the floor, his knees hitting the wood hard as he pulled her broken body into his arms. Blood trickled from her temple, staining her pale skin.

"Sofia! Wake up!" he roared, his heart shattering as he felt how cold and still she was.

"Healer! Get the healer now!" Damien’s roar echoed through the stone hallways—a sound of pure, unfiltered agony that made every guard and servant freeze in their tracks.

He scooped Sofia’s limp body against his bare chest. She felt terrifyingly light, her head lolling against his shoulder. He didn’t care that he was naked, and he didn’t care about the blood staining his skin.

Behind him, Matthew shifted back into his human form, gasping for air. His shoulder was a mess of deep gashes, and his face was bruised, but he didn’t look at his own wounds. He stared at the doorway where Damien had disappeared, his eyes filled with hollow fear for the girl they both, in their own twisted ways, loved.

Damien reached his grand chambers and kicked the door open. He laid her gently in the center of the massive bed—the same bed where, only hours ago, he had claimed her in anger. Now, she looked like a broken porcelain doll against the dark silk sheets.

"Stay with me, Sofia," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Don’t you dare leave. Not like this."

He moved with frantic, restless energy. He yanked on a pair of black sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt or shoes. His skin was still hot from the shift, but his heart felt like ice.

He began to pace the length of the room, his claws occasionally unsheathing and clicking against the floor. Every time he passed the bed, he looked at her pale face, searching for a twitch of an eyelid or a change in her shallow breathing.

The guilt was killing him. He had gone to her room to check on her—actually check on her. On his way there, he had pulled Martha aside and demanded she prepare a tray of the best food and the strongest healing tonics for Sofia. He had been ready to walk in, act cold, and force her to eat so she wouldn’t fade away.

But he had found Matthew there instead. And his jealousy had blinded him.

"Where is she?" Damien growled as the door finally opened.

The pack’s elder healer rushed in, carrying a leather bag filled with herbs and stones. She took one look at the Alpha’s face and hurried to the bedside.

"Move, Alpha," she said firmly, one of the few who could speak to him that way.

Damien stepped back, his spine hitting the wall. He watched the healer work, his eyes never leaving Sofia.