Chapter 223: Chapter 223

~Damon’s POV ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ 𝓷𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓵·𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖·𝙣𝙚𝙩

The steam rose gently from the cup, carrying the bitter smell of the herbs. Lisa sat by the low table, her hands steady, though I could see the pink in her cheeks from the heat. She leaned closer, stirring the mixture slowly, her face lit by the small lamp in my chamber.

I rested back against the pillows, arms crossed, pretending to be bored, though my eyes never left her.

Finally, she lifted the cup, blew gently across the surface, and came closer. Each step was light, almost careful, as though she was afraid the cup might spill. Her eyes never left mine, soft yet firm.

"Here," she murmured, her voice calm but carrying a hint of worry. "It’s ready. You need to drink."

I leaned back slightly against the pillows, smirking at her. "So this is what it feels like? To have someone brewing liquor and herbs just for me." I tilted my head, teasing. "Perhaps I should get sick more often."

Her lips parted, and she gave me a sharp look, rolling her eyes in that way only she could. "You’re impossible," she muttered. "Drink before it cools."

I chuckled, the sound low in my chest. Still, I leaned forward as she carefully lifted the cup to my lips. Her fingers brushed mine as she steadied it, her warmth soaking into me more than the drink ever could.

I took a slow sip. The taste hit me at once, bitter, heavy, sharp on my tongue. It was the kind of bitterness that made most people spit it out. But her eyes... those eyes were fixed on me, so full of care, that I forced it down without complaint.

"Good," she whispered, her voice softer now, almost relieved. She pulled the cup back, then brought it forward again, urging me to take another sip.

I obeyed. This time, instead of watching the cup, I kept my eyes on her. The way her lashes lowered when she concentrated, the faint curve of her lips as though she was silently praying I’d drink it all, these things made the bitterness taste almost sweet.

"Hmm... it seems if I fall ill, I will be fed every day. Should I sneeze again so you keep spoiling me?"

Her lips twitched, though she tried to keep a straight face.

"If you start pretending to be sick, I’ll make the herbs twice as bitter. Don’t test me, Damon."

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "So fierce. But you still hold the cup for me. Look at you."

She ignored me, tilting the cup again. "Drink."

I obeyed, sip by sip, until the cup was empty. When I leaned back with a sigh, she set it aside, then reached for a cloth. She dabbed at my lips gently, her fingers brushing my skin as though I was fragile glass.

Her voice dropped, softer than before.

My brows drew together. "For what?"

"For making you catch a cold." She kept her eyes low. "If I had listened earlier... if I had rested instead of playing in the rain with you, maybe you would be fine now."

I reached forward and pinched her cheek lightly, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes widened, and I gave her a slow smile.

"So now you admit it? That I was right all along? That I always care for you, and you should stop proving stubborn?"

She pouted faintly, her lips pressed together, cheeks warm beneath my fingers.

"I only said I was sorry. Don’t twist my words."

I chuckled, leaning closer, my voice dropping.

"You will not win this argument, Lisa. I told you before, you are mine to care for. And if I must sneeze and cough just to make you sit here worrying over me, then perhaps it is worth it."

She blinked at me, her lips parting as though she wanted to argue, but no sound came.

Silence stretched between us, filled with nothing but the faint crackle of the fire in the corner and the sound of her soft breathing.

At last, she whispered, "You’re impossible."

And I only smiled wider.

Lisa’s hand lingered on the empty cup before she set it aside. Her eyes softened as she looked at me, and for a long while, she said nothing. I thought she might scold me again, but instead, her lips curved into the faintest smile.

"Damon," she began quietly, her voice carrying a weight that made my chest tighten. "Thank you... for today. For taking me to see your mother."

I tilted my head, studying her. "You’re thanking me for that?"

"Yes," she said firmly, her gaze not wavering. "It meant a lot to me. To stand there, to feel like she was watching. To be introduced by you, not just as anyone, but as your mate... It made me feel... like I finally belonged."

Her words sank deep into me, deeper than I expected. My mother’s tomb had always been sacred, a place I visited with reverence, never thinking I would one day share it with someone. For her to feel that same reverence, it stirred something warm in me.

"You do belong," I told her, my voice steady but thick with meaning. "You are mine, Lisa. You are hers, too, now. I’m sure she accepted you."

Her eyes shone faintly, as though they might brim with tears. But then she whispered, almost hesitantly, "There’s one more thing I wish for."

I leaned closer, curious. "Tell me."

She bit her lip, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her gown. "I... I want to take you to see my father. To show him to you, even if it is only his resting place. To pay my respects properly. I’ve missed him so much. It would ease my heart if you came with me."

For a moment, silence pressed between us. Her words carried grief, but also trust. She was letting me into a part of her life that was tender, painful, sacred.

I reached for her hand, taking it firmly in mine. "Then we will go," I promised. "Soon. You will stand before him, and you will not be alone. I will be by your side."

Her breath caught, and I felt the faint tremor in her hand. Then, slowly, she looked at me with a warmth I had never seen so openly before.

And without warning, she moved closer and wrapped her arms around me.

It was the first time. The first time she had ever hugged me, before I reached for her.

For a second, I was stunned. Her small frame pressed into mine, her head resting against my chest. My arms hovered in the air, then instinct took over, and I pulled her close, holding her tightly, as though she might vanish if I let go.

I closed my eyes, breathing in the faint scent of rain still clinging to her hair, mixed with the soft fragrance that was hers alone.

"You hugged me first," I whispered against her hair, almost in disbelief.

She smiled faintly against me. "Maybe I did."

I couldn’t help it, I laughed quietly, a sound that came from deep in my chest. "I love that."