FIRST KISS đź’‹
1064 Words
Chapter: 8
The laser dot was gone. But my hands still shook.
I backed away from the window. Phone face-down on the bed. Damien’s keycard burned in my palm like it was on fire.
Across the street. Roof. Someone watching me for 3 years.
My wolf wasn’t purring anymore. She was pressed flat against my ribs, whining. _Hide. Run. Danger._
I didn’t run.
I grabbed the hoodie from the floor. Pulled it over my head. Then I did something stupid. Something brave.
I walked to the door. Keycard in hand.
*2:04am.*
Floor 60. Damien’s private floor.
The keycard beeped. Door clicked open.
Dark. Silent. Smelled like his cologne. Cedar + rain + something uniquely Alpha.
“Damien?” My voice cracked.
No answer. Just the sound of glass sliding. Balcony.
I stepped inside. “Damien, there was a laser. On my chest. Someone has photos from—”
A hand covered my mouth. Pulled me back against a hard chest.
I froze. Heart in my throat.
“Don’t scream,” his voice murmured against my ear. Rough. Awake. “It’s me.”
Damien spun me around. In the moonlight from the balcony, his eyes weren’t silver. They were black. Pupils blown wide. Not Alpha mode. Fear mode.
“I saw the alert,” he said. Hands on my face now. Thumbs brushing tears I didn’t know I’d shed. “Security camera on opposite roof just went offline. Sniper rifle case detected 11 minutes ago.”
My breath hitched. “You came for me.”
“I was already coming.” He exhaled shakily. “Your phone pinged my private line when you unlocked the door. I ran up the stairs. Didn’t take the elevator. Didn’t trust it.”
He looked at me. Really looked. Hair still messy. T-shirt damp with sweat. No Alpha mask. Just a man terrified he’d be too late.
“Favour, listen to me.” He knelt suddenly. Eye level with me. “If anything happens to you—”
“Don’t.” I cut him off. Put my hand over his mouth now. “Don’t say it.”
He kissed my palm instead. Soft. Desperate.
The building lights flickered once. Twice. Then died.
Complete darkness.
Gunshot cracked from across the street. Muffled. Suppressed.
Glass shattered behind us. On the balcony. Not us. Not yet.
Damien yanked me down to the floor. Covered my body with his. “Stay down,” he whispered into my hair. “Please, Favour. Stay down.”
Another shot. Closer this time.
My nightmare from years ago came rushing back. Oak tree. 16 years old. Falling. Arms open to catch me.
But this time Damien wasn’t below the tree. He was on top of me, shielding me.
And I couldn’t breathe. Not from fear. From him.
His heartbeat hammered against my chest. His breath hit my neck. Cedar + rain.
“Damien,” I whispered. “If we die tonight—”
“We won’t.” His voice was steel. “I won’t let them take you. Not again. Not this time.”
“Then stop talking,” I said. And grabbed his face. Kissed him.
Not soft. Not sweet. Not the dinner almost-kiss.
Desperate. Alive. _I’m here, you’re here, we’re breathing._
For 1 second he froze. Shocked.
Then he kissed me back like he’d been dying for it for 3 years.
Hand fisted in my hoodie. Other hand cradling my head like I’d break. His mouth moved against mine with every unspoken word: _You’re mine. You’re safe. You’re home._
The gunshots kept coming. Glass kept shattering.
But all I could feel was him. Warm. Solid. Real.
When we broke apart, both of us gasping, his forehead rested against mine.
“Wrong timing,” he whispered against my lips. Half laugh, half sob.
“Worst timing,” I agreed. Then smiled despite everything. “Best kiss.”
Damien’s eyes flashed silver again. But this time it wasn’t Alpha rage. It was something softer. Something that looked like relief.
“Favour Chukwuma,” he murmured. “You are the most infuriating, stubborn, reckless woman I’ve ever—”
Third gunshot. Closer.
He moved. Fast. Alpha speed.
Grabbed me, rolled us both behind the marble counter as the window behind us exploded inward.
Shards rained down.
Silence.
Then Kemi’s voice through his earpiece, urgent: “Alpha, sniper down. SWAT has roof. Threat neutralized.”
Damien didn’t move. Didn’t let go. Just buried his face in my neck and breathed me in.
“I told you to stay behind me,” he whispered.
“You told me to come,” I whispered back. Fingers tangled in his hair.
He pulled back just enough to see my face. Checked me for blood. For glass. For anything.
When his hands were sure I was unharmed, he cupped my jaw again.
“About that kiss,” he said. Voice low. Dangerous soft.
“What about it?” I tried to sound brave. Failed.
He smiled. Small. Real. The Damien from 3 years ago under the oak tree.
“It wasn’t a mistake.” His thumb brushed my bottom lip. “It was 3 years late.”
Before I could answer, lights flooded back on. Red and blue flashing through the broken window. SWAT below.
Damien stood, pulled me up with him. But didn’t let go of my hand.
“Security sweep,” he told Kemi through the earpiece, eyes never leaving mine. “Then wake the pack council. Emergency session. 6am.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
He looked down at me. At our joined hands. At my lips still swollen from his kiss.
“Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s get glass out of your hair. Then you’re sleeping in here. On my bed. Door locked. Two guards outside.”
“I have my own room,” I said weakly.
“Not tonight.” His voice was final. Not Alpha command. Something gentler. “Tonight, you sleep where I can hear you breathe.”
He led me to the bathroom. Started running water to wash glass from my hair.
And as I sat on the edge of his tub, watching him carefully pick shards from my hoodie, I realized something terrifying:
The laser dot didn’t scare me anymore.
Because Damien Blackwood had just kissed me in a war zone.
And I wanted him to do it again.
_[End Episode 8]_
- Writer
