Jacob gasped sharply in shock.
The boy standing in front of him looked at him as if he were a criminal caught in the act. His eyes were empty—cold, emotionless, and frighteningly dangerous for someone so young. There was no curiosity in them, no confusion. Only hostility.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
The words were spoken in a chilling, flat tone that sent an electric jolt through Jacob's small body. He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He didn't understand why he was so terrified. The boy was just a child like him… yet the fear crawling up his spine felt real, heavy, and suffocating.
"I… I—" Jacob tried to speak, but his words came out broken and unsteady. Sweat beaded on his forehead as panic tightened its grip around his chest.
"Get out!!"
The boy shoved him hard.
Jacob stumbled backward, his small body unable to keep balance, and he crashed onto the cold floor. The impact knocked the breath out of him. Pain shot through his back, and before he could stop himself, a cry escaped his lips. Tears blurred his vision as fear and hurt overwhelmed him.
At that exact moment, Alpha George arrived at the corridor.
His sharp eyes immediately took in the scene—Jacob on the floor, crying, and his son standing rigidly by the open door, his gaze dark and furious. Without hesitation, the Alpha strode forward and helped Jacob up, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"Are you alright, Jacob?" Alpha George asked, his voice filled with concern.
Jacob could only shake his head. His lips trembled, and he clutched the Alpha's sleeve as if it were the only thing keeping him from collapsing again.
Alpha George turned sharply to his son, whose cold glare was still fixed on Jacob.
"Why did you do that, Damon?" the Alpha demanded.
At the sound of his father's voice, the boy finally shifted his attention.
"He tried to get inside my bedroom!" Damon hissed, his voice low and sharp, like a cornered animal ready to strike.
Jacob's head snapped up, his eyes wide. He immediately shook his head, fear evident on his face. "No… I—I just peeked inside because the door was slightly open. I… I didn't mean to," he explained softly before lowering his gaze again, unable to endure the hostile stare Damon was giving him.
"Damon," Alpha George called gently, forcing himself to remain calm. He knew his son well—knew how fragile his control truly was. "Jacob didn't mean any harm. You shouldn't have pushed him like that."
"Just say sorry—"
"No!" Damon shouted, cutting him off. "I will never say sorry to him!"
Before Alpha George could respond, Damon slammed his bedroom door shut with a loud bang that echoed down the hallway.
The Alpha closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. He then turned back to Jacob, who was quietly crying, his small fists clenched at his sides.
"Jacob," Alpha George said softly as he bent down to his level, "I'm the one who should apologize for what Damon did. He… doesn't like anyone entering his room."
"But I didn't go inside," Jacob whispered, his voice trembling.
"I know," the Alpha replied gently. "Please try to understand Damon, alright? Don't be afraid of him. He's not a bad child—he's just going through something difficult. That's why he reacted that way."
Jacob nodded silently, though the fear in his eyes did not completely fade.
***Three Days Later***
Three days had passed since the incident.
Jacob didn't understand himself.
After what Damon had done—after being pushed, yelled at, and treated like an intruder—Jacob should have avoided that part of the hallway altogether. He should have stayed far away from Damon's bedroom.
Yet instead, he found himself standing outside that very door.
Every single day.
He would walk slowly down the hallway, stop in front of the closed door, and hesitate. Sometimes he would lean closer, pressing his ear against the wooden surface as if trying to hear something from inside. Other times, he would simply stare at the door, his thoughts tangled in confusion.
After the accident, curiosity had taken root inside him.
Jacob knew that Alpha George and Luna Elisabeth had a son. He had known that since the day he arrived at the pack. But in the year he had lived there, he had never once seen Damon—not until that moment when he accidentally peeked into his bedroom.
That violent encounter had been their very first meeting.
Jacob wanted to ask Alpha George or Luna Elisabeth why Damon never left his room. He wanted to understand why the boy seemed so angry, so guarded.
But he didn't have the courage.
And now, just like the previous days, Jacob stood once again outside Damon's door, staring at it in silence.
Slowly, hesitantly, he stepped closer. He placed both hands on the door and leaned in, pressing his ear against it.
Nothing.
Then suddenly—
The door swung open.
Jacob yelped in surprise and lost his balance. His eyes squeezed shut as he braced himself for the fall, already imagining the painful impact with the floor.
But it never came.
Instead, strong arms caught him.
Jacob's eyes flew open, and his breath hitched when he realized Damon was holding him upright. His face was inches away from Damon's, close enough for Jacob to see every sharp line of his expression.
He swallowed hard.
Damon's eyes were terrifying—cold, piercing, and murderous. Jacob's heart pounded violently, as if it were trying to escape his chest.
After a moment of stunned silence, Jacob quickly straightened himself and stepped back, bowing his head in embarrassment and fear.
He waited.
He expected Damon to yell at him again. To shove him away. To scream and slam the door in his face just like before.
But nothing happened.
Seconds passed.
Then a full minute.
Damon remained standing there, unmoving, simply staring at him.
Slowly, Jacob lifted his head.
The moment their eyes met, Jacob took a step back. There was something in Damon's gaze—something he couldn't understand. It wasn't pure anger this time. It was something deeper, darker… curious.
"I'm… sorry," Jacob whispered nervously, unable to look away from Damon's blank blue eyes.
"When are you planning to stop standing outside my room every day?" Damon asked coldly.
Jacob's eyes widened.
He was shocked.
"So… you knew?" Jacob asked in a small voice.
Instead of answering, Damon stepped closer, forcing Jacob to look up at him. "What do you want from me?" Damon asked quietly. "Why do you keep standing outside my room?"
Jacob tried to look away, but he couldn't. Damon's eyes held him captive. They were a striking shade of blue—beautiful, yet completely empty of emotion.
"I… I—" Jacob stammered, his voice failing him again.
"Stop stammering," Damon said flatly. "Talk straight, kiddo."
Jacob frowned slightly.
Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out of his mouth. "How old are you?"
The moment he realized what he had asked, Jacob's eyes widened in horror. He slapped a hand over his mouth and mentally scolded himself.
Damon watched him quietly.
Something inside Damon twisted. For the first time since the accident that had left him deeply traumatized, he smirked.
It was the very first expression he had shown.
He found Jacob… amusing.
Cute, even—especially the way Jacob was hitting his own head lightly while muttering things Damon couldn't understand.
After a few seconds of silence, Damon finally spoke. "I'm eleven years old."
Jacob's eyes lit up in surprise. "Y-You're eleven? You're older than me!" he exclaimed. Suddenly, everything made sense—why Damon was taller, why he seemed more intimidating.
"And you?" Damon asked in return.
"I'm six years old," Jacob replied with a small smile, momentarily forgetting the fear he had felt earlier.
Hours passed without them noticing.
They talked—awkwardly at first, then more freely. They shared simple stories, silly thoughts, and even laughed together.
And without realizing it, that moment became the beginning of a bond that would change both of their lives forever.