The lost mate
Chapter 27: An offer

Chapter 27: An offer

Damien’s eyes darkened, his confident demeanour faltering for a moment. He leant forward, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern.

"Annie, I..." Damien struggled to find the right words. "I had no idea. I swear, if I had known...

She raised a hand, cutting him off. "It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done."

"But it does matter," Damien insisted, his voice low but intense. "You were supposed to be protected, not harmed. I’m so sorry, Annie. I failed you."

Annie looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer. The sincerity in his voice was almost too much to bear. She had spent years building up walls to protect herself, to keep the pain at bay, and now, in just a few minutes, Damien was chipping away at those defences.

"I don’t need your apologises, Damien," she said quietly, her fingers tightening around her napkin.

"Let’s not talk about it."

He nodded slowly, absorbing her words.

"Her parents ran the diner, and Heather’s family resides here. Her father passed away not long after we arrived, and her mother died a year later. She has been operating the café ever since, with my help. She is both my mentor and employer."

Damien nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "Heather seems like a good person."

Annie smiled, this time more genuinely. "She is. They both are. I owe them a lot."

For a moment, she allowed herself to relax. This was safer territory, talking about Heather and Emily. But she knew it couldn’t last—Damien hadn’t come all this way just to ask about her friends.

"What about you?" she asked, trying to shift the focus. "What have you been up to all these years?"

Damien leant back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. "Not much," he said with a wry smile. "Just the usual—being an Alpha prince, dealing with pack politics, trying to figure out what went wrong all those years ago."

Annie looked away, her fingers tightening around her napkin. "You can’t make things right, Damien. Some things can’t be fixed."

"Maybe not," Damien said quietly, "but I have to try."

Before she could respond, the waiter appeared, interrupting the moment. He placed menus in front of them, and Damien thanked him before turning back to Annie.

"Order whatever you like," he said, his tone lightening. "Let’s enjoy the evening."

Annie glanced at the menu, but her mind was elsewhere. She knew what Damien was doing—trying to wear her down, make her see things his way. But she couldn’t afford to let her guard down, not when so much was at stake.

"Just a salad," she said, handing the menu back to the waiter. She didn’t have much of an appetite, not with Damien sitting across from her, watching her every move.

Damien raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. He ordered something more substantial for himself, and once the waiter had left, he turned his attention back to her.

"What do you do for fun? Any hobbies?"

Annie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This small talk was killing her. "I don’t have much time for hobbies," she replied, keeping her tone neutral. "Running a café takes up most of my day."

Damien nodded, as if genuinely interested. "It sounds like you’ve built a good life here. But I can’t help wondering... is it enough?"

Annie’s jaw tightened. "It’s enough for me."

"Is it?" Damien’s voice was gentle, but there was a challenge in his eyes. "Or are you just saying that because you think it’s all you deserve?"

Annie’s heart skipped a beat, and she looked away, unable to meet his gaze. He was getting too close, asking questions she didn’t want to answer.

"Damien," she began, trying to keep her voice steady. "I didn’t come here to rehash the past or discuss what might have been. I came because I thought we could have a civil conversation, clear the air, and then go our separate ways."

Damien leant forward, his expression serious. "I don’t want to go our separate ways, Annie. That’s the last thing I want."

"Well, it’s what I want," Annie shot back, her temper flaring. "I’ve built a life here, and I don’t need you coming in and turning everything upside down."

Damien sat back, his gaze never leaving hers. "I’m not here to disrupt your life, Annie. You are a wolf, Annie. A rogue wolf living among humans. You need a pack. It’s where you belong."

Annie’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and hurt. "I belong where I’m safe, Damien. I’ve learned that the hard way."

Damien flinched at her words, but he didn’t back down. "I understand why you feel that way, but things are gling to change here. I am going to buy the town, the forest, everything, and establish some new packs here. That’s why I came here."

Annie’s jaw tightened as she processed Damien’s words, her mind racing with conflicting emotions.

"A lone wolf is not safe or happy in the long run," Damien continued, his voice softening. "You were declared a rogue when you left the Cresent moon pack. The council will eventually catch you and it won’t end well. Trust me, Annie. You’ll be safer with me."

She took a slow breath, forcing herself to maintain her composure. "I’ll think about it," she finally said, her voice steady, betraying none of the turmoil churning inside her.

Damien seemed to take that as a good sign. His expression softened, and a small, relieved smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "That’s all I ask, Annie. Just think about it."

As the waiter set the plates down in front of them, Annie couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over her.

The steak in front of her was perfectly cooked, its rich aroma wafting up to tease her senses. She hadn’t realised how hungry she was until that moment, and as she cut into the tender meat, the first bite nearly melted in her mouth.

"Thank you," she said softly, her voice sincere. "This is exactly what I needed."

Damien returned her smile, a hint of pride in his eyes. "I’m glad you like it."

As they ate, the atmosphere between them began to shift. They began to talk about lighter subjects—stories from the café, amusing incidents with customers.

Annie found herself laughing more than she had in a long time, surprised at how naturally the conversation flowed between them. They carefully kept clear of what happened that night. Annie was grateful for that unspoken understanding. As the evening wore on, Annie realised that she was actually enjoying herself.

When the waiter cleared their plates and brought dessert menus, Annie leant back in her chair, feeling content and full. Damien looked at her, his eyes warm and inviting.

"Do you want to order dessert, or should we just take a walk?" he asked, his tone light, as if they had been doing this for years.

A small part of Annie hesitated, tempted to prolong the evening. But she knew she needed to keep her wits about her. Spending more time with Damien would only complicate things, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

"Let’s take a walk," she said finally, feeling like it was the safest option.

Damien nodded, signalling to the waiter to bring the check. As they prepared to leave.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Damien offered her his arm. Annie hesitated for just a moment before accepting, letting him guide her down the quiet street.