Marco's pov
The scent of blood clung to my skin, the lingering heat of silver still burning my hands. Samuel's screams echoed in my mind, but they didn't satisfy the rage simmering in my chest. He deserved worse.
I stalked down the halls, my wolves bowing their heads as I passed. They knew better than to speak to me when I was like this. Only one dared.
Darius was waiting outside my office, arms crossed. "How is Matilda?"
"She's in pain," I said, my voice rougher than I intended. I didn't stop walking.
"There's a meeting with another Alpha. I assume you"
"I won't be going," I cut him off. "Handle it. Report to me before eight."
He didn't argue. He knew where I was going.
I pushed open the door to Matilda's room, and instantly, the tension in my body eased. The moment I saw her small and fragile against the blankets, her chest rising and falling steadily something inside me settled.
She was safe. She was here.
I exhaled slowly, stepping inside. The rage I had carried for hours began to fade, slipping away like mist burned by the sun.
Her breathing changed as I approached, and when her eyes fluttered open, the golden light of morning caught in them, making them shine.
"Marco?" Her voice was soft, still laced with sleep.
I sank into the chair beside the bed, reaching for her hand. Her fingers curled weakly around mine, and the last of my anger dissolved.
"I'm here," I murmured. "Rest, little one. I won't leave you."
And for the first time since I had left that cell, I truly felt at peace
The sound of running water filled the bathroom as I stepped under the hot spray, letting it wash away the lingering traces of blood and rage from earlier. Matilda was resting, reading one of the books I had brought her. For the first time in days, I felt something close to peace.
Then I heard it.
A scream.
My name.
Matilda.
I didn't think I moved. Tearing out of the bathroom, still dripping, I found her across the room, eyes wide with fear. And standing over her Darius.
A growl ripped from my throat as I lunged, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him off the ground.
"What are you doing?" My voice was low, lethal.
Darius choked, his hands clawing at my wrist. "Nothing I swear!" he gasped. "I came to give my report on the alpha meeting… then I saw her trying to reach something on the shelf. I tried to help, and she screamed."
I turned my gaze to Matilda, my grip still tight around Darius's throat. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her face pale. But when our eyes met, I saw something there not terror of him, but of something deeper.
I dropped Darius unceremoniously. He stumbled back, coughing, rubbing his neck.
"Out," I growled. "Wait for me in my office."
Darius hesitated only a second before nodding and leaving. The door clicked shut behind him, and silence filled the room.
I turned back to Matilda. She was still clutching the book to her chest, her fingers trembling slightly. My chest tightened.
"Little one," I said softly, stepping closer. "What happened?"
Matilda didn't answer right away. She just stared at me, her fingers gripping the book so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
I took a slow step toward her. "Matilda," I murmured, keeping my voice low, careful, as if she were a frightened doe that might bolt. "Tell me what happened."
She swallowed hard, her throat bobbing. "I-I was just trying to reach a book," she whispered. "Then he came up behind me, and I… I panicked."
Her voice wavered, and the realization hit me like a blade to the chest. This wasn't about Darius. This was about something else something from before.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to remain still. "Did he touch you?" My voice was sharp, edged with barely restrained fury.
She shook her head quickly. "No! He didn't do anything. It wasn't his fault I just… I wasn't expecting him to be so close, and it reminded me of…" She trailed off, biting her lip.
I didn't need her to finish. I already knew.
Her past.
The urge to hunt down the man who had made her like this burned hot in my veins, but right now, my mate needed me. Not my rage. Not my thirst for vengeance. Me.
I exhaled, forcing the tension from my body, and slowly knelt in front of her. I reached for her hand, and though she hesitated for a second, she let me take it. Her fingers were still trembling.
"You're safe here," I told her, my voice steady, certain. "No one will ever hurt you again. Not him. Not anyone."
Her breath hitched, and she blinked rapidly, like she was trying to hold back tears.
"I know," she whispered. "It's just… hard to forget."
My chest ached at the vulnerability in her voice. I brushed my thumb over her hand, grounding her. "You don't have to forget, little one," I said softly. "You just have to remember that you're not alone anymore."
A tear slipped down her cheek. This time, when I reached out, she didn't flinch. I caught the tear with my thumb, then gently tilted her chin up so she had no choice but to meet my gaze.
"You are mine," I murmured, my voice rough with emotion. "And I will spend every day proving to you that you are safe with me."
She let out a shaky breath. Then, to my surprise, she leaned forward, resting her forehead against my shoulder.
I wrapped my arms around her carefully, protectively. And for the first time, she didn't pull away.
She let me hold her.
And as I breathed in her scent, feeling her heartbeat slow against mine, I knew no matter how long it took, I would wait. I would be patient. Because she was worth .
The moment I stepped back into Matilda's room, my wolf settled. She was exactly where I had left her, curled up in bed, the book resting open in her lap. But she wasn't reading. She was staring at the pages, lost in thought.
Her eyes lifted when she sensed me, and for a brief second, something flickered in them hesitation, uncertainty.
I moved closer, taking the book from her hands and setting it aside. She didn't protest.
"Talk to me, little one," I murmured, brushing a stray curl from her face. "What's on your mind?"
She looked down at her hands. "You," she admitted softly.
My chest tightened. "What about me?"
She let out a slow breath. "You say you're not leaving. That I'm yours. That I'm safe with you." She swallowed. "But Marco.you don't even know me."
I cupped her cheek gently, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet my gaze. "I know enough," I said firmly. "I know you are strong. That you've survived things no one should have to. That you're kind, even when life hasn't been kind to you." My thumb brushed over her cheek. "And I know you're mine, Matilda. I've known from the moment I laid eyes on you."
Her breath hitched, but she didn't pull away.
I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping to a whisper. "I'm not asking you to feel the same way overnight. I know this is sudden for you. But give me a chance, little one."
She hesitated, searching my face like she was trying to find a reason to say no. Then, finally, she spoke.
"I'll think about it," she murmured.
It wasn't a promise. It wasn't a yes.
But it wasn't a no.
And for now, that was enough.
A slow smile tugged at my lips. "That's all I ask."
I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment, just breathing her in. When I pulled back, she was watching me with an unreadable expression, something guarded yet curious in her gaze.
She was thinking about it.
And that was the first step.