Page 32 of Secrets Of Blackwood

“Damien,” she whispers, a sob hitching her breath. “Don’t do this.”

“Goodbye, Lily.” I turn away, the world blurring through the tears I refuse to let fall. With every step I take, I leave behind a piece of my soul, scattered in the shadows of the garden where our love once bloomed.

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I storm away, each step a rebellion against the fear that claws at my insides. The soft glow of the campus lamps does nothing to chase away the darkness seething within me. I should be running from her, from us, from this madness that’s marked our lives. But as I move further away, a fierce resolve anchors me. No, I can’t let her go. Not when every fiber of my being is woven with hers.

“Damien,” I mutter to myself, my own voice steeling my will, “you coward. You fight for what you love, or you lose it forever.”

The night air bites at my skin, but the chill feels trivial compared to the inferno raging in my heart. My mind replays the image of Lily, her face illuminated by the malicious red of the target. They think they can use her to control me, break me. They don’t know who they’re dealing with.

“Damien!” Lily’s voice slices through the silence, and I spin on my heel, half expecting another mirage of my torment. But there she stands, real and resolute, her golden hair a beacon in the night.

“I heard what you said, about ending it,” she says, her eyes glistening like twin sapphires. “But you don’t get to make that choice alone. Not anymore.”

Her bravery ignites something primal in me. It’s not just about keeping her safe; it’s about fighting the shadows that have stalked me all my life. For her, I’ll confront them head-on.

“Then we fight together,” I declare, my voice resonant with a determination that doesn’t just surprise her—it surprises me too.

“Are you sure?” she asks, reaching out to me, her touch a promise of hope.

“I’ve never been more certain.” I clasp her hand in mine, feeling the power of our united stand. “Come what may, I won’t let them hurt you.”

The resolve in my eyes must mirror her own because she nods, a silent pact sealed between us. It’s a decision that could very well lead us down a path lined with danger, but there’s no turning back now.

“Stay here,” I instruct, my tone leaving no room for argument. “Wait for me.”

“Where are you going?”

“To finish this,” I say, my jaw set with the iron of my resolve. “It ends tonight.”

Before she can respond, I’m already sprinting toward the heart of the darkness. The rival faction’s lair looms ahead, an edifice shrouded in menace and secrecy. My pulse hammers in my ears, drowning out the whispers of doubt.

I slip through the shadows, every sense heightened, every muscle tensed for battle. This is it—the moment where the lines blur between love and war, desire and survival.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I taunt into the void, my voice echoing off the stone walls like a clarion call to destiny.

A shuffle behind me has me spinning, hands clenched, ready to fight. But there’s nothing—just the echo of my own footsteps. They’re playing games, trying to unnerve me. It won’t work.

“Show yourself!” I growl into the night, anger boiling over, ready to spill blood for the one I love.

Silence greets me, thick and oppressive. Then, a whisper of movement, and a shadow detaches itself from the wall. The confrontation I’ve been craving finally arrives, cloaked in the anonymity of darkness.

“Damien Blackwood,” a voice hisses, venom dripping from every syllable. “You really think you can defy us?”

“Watch me,” I spit back, stepping into the fray that will either save us or destroy us all.

And as the first blow lands, the chapter closes, leaving hearts racing and breaths caught in throats, waiting for the battle to unfold.

10

Chapter Ten

The flickering shadows of the dimly lit room dance on the walls as I push open the heavy oak door, my footsteps silent against the cold stone floor. Victoria Grayson stands at the far end, her silhouette framed by the moonlight spilling through the tall windows. Her raven hair cascades down her back, a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin.

“Damien,” she says, her voice a mix of surprise and disdain. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“Cut the act, Victoria,” I snarl, my voice low but forceful. “We need to talk about Lily.”

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