The Broken Beta’s Redemption

Chapter 9

Damon’s POV

The cries were loud, loud enough to keep me up all night.

I knew I’d been harsh to him. I also had no idea why we all suddenly felt the need to get involved in his business, trying to be familiar. If not the others, I should have known better than to stick my nose where it didn’t belong. I’d lived long enough to know that getting attached never ends well.

But for some strange reason, that boy—Julian carried an essence that felt… eerily similar to mine. Maybe that was why I had spoken more than I usually would. Why I couldn’t just ignore him the way I ignored everything else.

Still, hearing him cry seemed to ease something inside me. Because that was the first thing he’d done without trying to hide, without worrying about us or how he appeared. And that… was a start. One he would never admit to taking.

I’d met enough people—enough evil people—who deserved to be thrown in here. But I, Damon Greenwalker, the Dark Lord of the Fallen Mist Coven, couldn’t place what crime Julian could have committed to end up here with us… the criminals of the moon.

My thoughts drifted into the darkness—the same darkness that had always lived inside me until I felt a soft push in my mind. With practiced ease, I opened the mental barrier I’d learned to keep up around Lucian.

What do you want, Lucian? I asked immediately.

As much as I tolerated him, his chatter could get annoying—especially with the mood I was in. It would only take a few wrong words from him to set me off.

“Why were you so harsh to the kid?” he asked calmly. “Now you’ve got him crying.”

“It’s not harsh if it’s the truth,” I replied, voice cold. “If you’re so bothered, go comfort him yourself.”

“You’re heartless, you know that?” he muttered.

“And you’re childish.”

Silence hung between us.

“If you actually want to help him, then keep him from ending his life,” i continued quietly. “He looked broken enough to try. And yes, the prison won’t let him die, but you never know what’s changed—or what sorrow can push someone to attempt.”

Another wave of silence. Heavy. Cold.

“His mind is a mess,” Lucian finally whispered. “So messy I can barely make out the source of his grief. As for his crime? I saw nothing. Everything is in shambles. But I managed to see one thing—he’s from the Awoke Pack.”

“That name mean anything to you?” he asked.

“No,” I answered. “It doesn’t.”

“Try to get some rest then.”

I didn’t bother responding before shutting my barrier again.

Awoke Pack… Awoke…

The name meant nothing. Of course it didn’t. We had been locked away for almost a century. There was no way I would know the pack. And if only I could just touch Julian—just once—I’d be able to see at least a fragment of his memories.

But that, too, was impossible.

When I opened my eyes again, I knew it was morning—even though the only light here came from the dull lamps. I could still feel it. That faint warmth that clung to the air.

A vampire loving sunlight was almost comedic to imagine, but I wasn’t just any vampire. As one of the only five pureblood vampires in existence, sunlight did nothing to me. I’d grown to embrace it.

My story was not one easily shared. One day, perhaps, it would crawl out from the pit of my chest where I had buried it. But not today.

My eyes found Raven, who was already kneeling close to the bars of Julian’s cell—talking softly to him. She was too kind for her own good. Which is why the fact that she got thrown in here for wiping out an entire tribe would forever remain a mystery to me.

“I thought you asked us to leave you alone, Julian,” I called out, drawing both their eyes. “Would’ve thought you ended it in your sleep judging by those cries. But let me guess—you were too much of a coward to go through with it, hmm?”

I said it intentionally. Every word was chosen.

How he reacted would tell me everything I needed to know—whether he was worth saving or not. Not that I intended to help him directly, but at least I’d know if he even wanted to live. That was a start everyone deserved.

“I thought you wished I ended it last night,” he shot back sharply.

His voice surprised me—it didn’t shake.

“Also, Damon, I’m talking to Raven. Not you. So don’t worry, I won’t taint you with my cowardice.”

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

The kid’s got bite, Lucian’s voice echoed in my head, followed by his amused laughter.

“I see you got a bit of your guts back,” I muttered, my smile fading as I watched him closely.

But he didn’t say another word, just stared at me until Raven cut in.

“You two are way too old to be fighting like this,” she scolded gently. “Especially here, of all places.”

She turned back to Julian.

“As I was saying—if you ever feel like talking about anything, I’m right here. Even if these two airheads won’t listen, I’ve got nothing but time. So why not?”

“I’m open to listening too,” I interjected, ignoring Julian’s glare. “I’m particularly curious about… why you got thrown in here.”

The reaction was immediate, violent.

Julian flinched hard, like I’d struck him. His breathing spiked. He stumbled back, clutching his chest as if the walls were caving in around him.

Raven rushed toward the bars. Lucian, too, tried to guide him through breathing exercises. But I stepped back, watching silently as Julian fought the rising panic.

His breaths came out sharp. His eyes unfocused. His fingers shook.

He wasn’t ready.

Not even close.

I exhaled slowly.

“I guess,” I murmured, “he’s not quite ready yet.”