Sofia's POV

While my heart beat like a drum, I stared at Damien, who was bleeding profusely, the knife still pierced in his chest. For a moment, time stood still. Everything around me disappeared. There were no walls, no table, no air… just me staring at Damien, and Damien staring at the knife that was killing him.

My wolf whined loudly inside me, the sound echoing in my head. It hurt. It really hurt. A deep ache sat in the center of my chest, like something heavy had been dropped on my heart. For a tiny second… I regretted it.

Just a tiny second.

But then the truth came back—Rebecca.

The baby.

The betrayal.

The lies.

The murder.

And just like that, the regret faded.

Slowly, painfully, Damien wrapped his fingers around the knife handle. His hand shook. He gritted his teeth. And then he pulled the knife out of his chest.

He let the knife fall from his hand. It hit the floor with a sharp clink, bouncing once before lying still. More blood spilled down his shirt, dripping onto the floor and forming a small dark puddle.

A few guards and maids rushed into the hall after hearing the noise. They gasped loudly when they saw the blood, the shattered plate, and Damien standing there with an open wound. Some covered their mouths. Some trembled. But none of them dared to move closer.

Nobody wanted to get between an Alpha and his mate.

Not even now.

Damien lifted his eyes finally—slowly, like it took strength just to look up. His gaze met mine.

I expected anger.

I expected a roar.

I expected him to shout, to yell, to threaten, to punish, to grab me—

But he did none of those things.

He didn't move to hit me.

He didn't scream at me.

He didn't ask why.

He didn't even look surprised anymore.

Instead… he just stared at me for a long, silent second.

A second that felt like a whole lifetime.

His eyes—those dark eyes I used to find safety in—looked empty. Not furious. Not hateful. Just tired. Like something inside him had broken.

And then… he turned around.

No words.

No reaction.

No fight.

He simply walked away.

His steps were slow at first, like each one hurt his chest. Then he grew steadier, but the blood kept dripping behind him, marking the floor with dark red stains as he moved down the hallway.

I just stood there, frozen, numb, and shaking.

My legs felt weak as I watched Damien disappear down the hallway, leaving a long line of blood behind him like a red ribbon. The whole house stayed silent, everyone too afraid to speak. My own breath felt loud in my ears.

The guards didn't follow.

The maids didn't speak.

Nobody moved.

They all stared at the trail of blood that Damien left behind… and I stared at his back as it disappeared around the corner.

The world felt too quiet.

Too heavy.

Too wrong.

And in that terrifying silence… I realized something.

I might be in big trouble.

I swallowed hard and slowly turned away. My hands were shaking. My heart felt like it was twisting itself into tiny painful knots.

I walked back to my room. My steps felt slow, heavy, like my feet didn't want to move. When I finally reached my door, I closed it and leaned against it, breathing fast. My chest hurt. My head hurt. Everything inside me felt wrong.

I sat on my bed, hugging my arms around my body.

I knew Damien would live.

He had the best healers.

He was strong.

A knife wouldn't kill him.

But that didn't stop the fear.

Because now he knew.

He knew someone told me the truth.

He knew I didn't trust him.

He knew I knew he killed Rebecca.

What would he do to me now?

I lay down, staring at the ceiling. But my eyes refused to close. Every time I tried to rest, another thought jumped into my head. Another fear. Another memory.

That man's voice on the phone.

Rebecca's smile.

The scarf.

The body exchange.

Damien walking away with blood dripping on the floor.

My wolf finally spoke inside me, her voice soft and serious.

"How are you sure he killed Rebecca?"

I blinked, surprised. "What do you mean how? The proofs are there."

"Proofs… or coincidences?" she asked quietly.

I sat up a little. "He had an affair with her."

"Do you have proof of the affair?"

"He got her pregnant."

"Did you see the pregnancy test? A healer's report?"

"Rebecca called him before she died!"

"Many people call the ones they trust when they are in danger," she answered calmly.

My heart started beating fast again. "Stop it," I whispered. "I saw the scarf. The body… he switched the bodies."

"Sofia… none of that proves Damien killed her," my wolf whispered. "It only proves something strange happened."

I covered my face with my hands. Tears burned my eyes.

Maybe my wolf was right.

Maybe I didn't have real proof.

Maybe I acted too fast.

Maybe I let fear and pain control me.

But I couldn't think straight.

Not that night.

I lay awake for hours, staring at the wall, waiting for footsteps… waiting for him to come back… waiting for something.

But nothing came.

No shouting.

No threats.

No guards pulling me out of bed.

No punishment.

Nothing.

And that silence scared me more than anything else ever had.

I wished I could call Olivia.

I wished I could hear her calm voice telling me I wasn't crazy.

But she was suffering. Lennox was still in a coma. Her whole pack was in chaos. I didn't want to add myself to her problems.

So I stayed alone with my thoughts—thoughts that hurt more and more each time I replayed the scene in my mind.

By the time morning arrived, my eyes were burning from staying awake all night. My hair was messy. My throat felt dry. I sat on the bed, hugging my knees, shaking softly.

A knock came at exactly 6:00 AM.

My heart jumped so fast it felt like it leaped into my throat.

Was it him?

Was he here to punish me?

To lock me away?

To kill me?

My hands shook as I opened the door.

But it wasn't Damien.

It was one of the maids, standing straight with her head bowed.

"Good morning, Lady Sofia," she said softly.

"M-Morning," I whispered, my voice barely there. "What is it?"

She lifted her eyes a little. "Alpha Damien sent me," she said. "He asked me to help you pack your things."

My stomach dropped. "Pack? Why?"

The maid swallowed hard. "The private jet that will take you and your son back to your hometown will be ready in one hour."

For a moment… I couldn't breathe.

I just stared at her. My heart felt like it broke in half. My lips parted, but no words came out.

Damien was sending me away.

Sending me home.

Sending me out of his life.

Because I stabbed him.

Because I didn't trust him.

Because I accused him.

Because I thought he was a monster.

I felt my knees weaken.

The maid stepped back, bowing again. "I'll wait outside until you're ready, my lady."

And then she left.

I stood there in the doorway, shaking like a leaf.

Damien didn't punish me.

He didn't shout.

He didn't hit me.

He didn't lock me up.

He simply… let me go.

And somehow… that hurt worse than anything else.