Chapter 208 Damian fell into the sea
Damian’s POV
The next morning, the entire mountain region was shrouded in mist.
The weather wasn’t ideal—low clouds hung heavy overhead—but the somber tone actually complemented the theme of international cooperation and development we were here to promote.
Vanessa and I completed the interview segments first, following the scheduled format. Throughout the entire process, I maintained absolute professional distance, keeping even eye contact to a bare minimum.
Finally, we needed to film a group shot at the viewing platform—everyone gazing out at the landscape, symbolic and inspiring.
I walked to my designated position first, shoulders squared, spine straight. Vanessa followed with her filming equipment.
But the moment her foot touched down, her body lurched violently. She cried out, stumbling backward toward the platform’s edge—
The viewing platform was perched halfway up the mountainside. The safety railing was rudimentary, covering only half the perimeter. Where Vanessa stood was an unprotected section near the stairs. If she fell, it would be fatal.
Of everyone there, I was closest to her.
It all happened too fast.
My wolf instincts kicked in before conscious thought could catch up. I lunged forward, my hand clamping around her upper arm, yanking her back from the edge with enough force to make her gasp.
She stumbled into me, her body colliding with my chest. The moment she made contact, I released her and shoved her away, putting immediate distance between us.
The whole interaction lasted maybe three seconds. But from somewhere in the shadows, I heard the faint click of a camera shutter, capturing the moment.
"Be more careful," I said coldly, not bothering to hide my irritation. Then I immediately gestured to Rick, who waved over the security team to establish better safety measures around the platform’s edges.
Vanessa rubbed her upper arm where my fingers had dug in, wincing slightly. When I’d pushed her away, I hadn’t been gentle. I’d treated her like something contaminated.
Still, she was studying me with an odd expression. Almost calculating. Like even being manhandled was better than being completely ignored.
I glanced back at the platform edge where she’d nearly fallen. If I hadn’t caught her, if I’d let her go over...
My jaw tightened. I wasn’t that kind of Alpha. I didn’t let people die on my watch, no matter how much I wished they’d disappear from my life.
---
Two hours later, filming finally wrapped.
The crew started breaking down equipment. The local children who’d participated in the shoot were chattering excitedly as their chaperones herded them toward the mountain path leading back down.
I was desperate to leave. To get back to the hotel, finish packing, and get on the damn plane.
It was just past 11 a.m. Croatia time—barely after 5 a.m. in New York. Even if Aria wasn’t awake yet, I could leave her a voice message. Let it be the first thing she heard when she opened her eyes.
The thought pulled at something warm in my chest. I picked up my pace toward the vehicles.
We hadn’t made it more than fifty yards when a sharp metallic screech tore through the air behind us, followed by the sickening crack of something structural giving way.
"Look out!" someone screamed in Croatian. "The camera crane—!"
I spun around, my wolf’s instincts screaming danger half a second before my brain caught up.
The massive filming crane near the platform’s edge—easily fifteen feet tall, several hundred pounds of steel and counterweights—was collapsing. The base bolts had sheared clean through. The entire apparatus was toppling straight toward the crowd.
People scattered in every direction, shouting, stumbling over equipment cases.
And directly in the crane’s path, a small boy—maybe seven or eight—had frozen. He stood locked in place, staring up at the tons of metal about to crush him.
"Julian!"A woman’s voice—his mother, probably—cracked with terror from somewhere ahead.
"Alpha Blackwood—!" Rick’s shout was sharp with panic.
No one else was close enough. No one else could reach him in time.
I didn’t think. My wolf surged forward and took over my limbs. I moved.
Three running strides and I had him. I hooked an arm around his waist and twisted hard, already throwing us both clear.
The crane’s horizontal boom ripped past my ribs close enough that I felt the wind of it, close enough that the kid in my arms screamed and thrashed like a live wire.
His small hands slammed into my chest.
In that fractured second I only registered pure terror—a child who had just watched death drop out of the sky, lashing out on pure instinct, shoving at anything solid to get away from the noise and the falling steel.
The force of it, combined with my own forward momentum, knocked me off-balance.
My boots hit loose gravel at the broken edge of the platform.
I tried to set him down, tried to catch myself, tried to grab for the fractured railing—
There was nothing to grab.
The world tilted. Sky. Rocks. Vanessa’s face twisted in horror. Rick lunging forward, too late.
Halfway down I hit an outcropping of limestone. Ribs cracked. I heard the wet snap of bone.
Then—
*CRASH.*
The Adriatic swallowed me whole.
Cold. Shockingly, brutally cold. Saltwater flooded my nose and mouth, choking me. Something warm spread from my head, clouding the water around my face rust-red.
Every attempt to swim sent white-hot agony through my left side where the broken ribs ground against each other.
Above me, muffled through layers of water, I heard screaming.
"—fell! Alpha Blackwood went over—get two men down there NOW—"
My wolf thrashed, instinct screaming at me to shift, to heal, to *survive*. But the pain was too much. The cold was too much.
Darkness crashed over me like a second wave.
And the last thing I thought—the very last thing before everything went black—
*Aria.*
---
Aria’s POV
I’d just pulled into the V&A Group headquarters parking garage when a sudden chill ripped through me—violent, ice-cold, completely wrong.
Goosebumps raced up my arms even though the heater was still blasting. I sat there gripping the steering wheel, heart slamming against my ribs for no reason I could name.
Something was wrong.
I grabbed my phone.
9:47 a.m.
He had promised to call this morning.
I had already texted him the second I woke up.
He still hadn’t answered.
"He’s probably busy," I muttered to myself, grabbing my bag and heading toward the elevator. "It’s a big event. He’ll call when he’s free."
But the uneasy feeling didn’t fade. If anything, it got worse.
I told myself it was nothing. Just nerves. Damian was fine. He had an entire security team with him. Rick would never let anything happen to him.
But as I stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, my hand was already reaching for my phone again.
Just one more check. Just to be sure.
Still nothing.