Those words jarred her memory, bringing to mind more details that she'd suppressed about the exorcism. Between the confused haziness of the drugs in her system and her anxious unwillingness to relive more than she had to, it was easy to doubt what she'd been sure until now was another strange vision. A terrible dream without its usual nightmare ending. Daimon claimed she wasn't weak, and earlier he'd said she'd done a number on the demon. She'd willfully ignored that, misunderstood, but now she started to remember. The battle with the demon in her head was apparently real. She'd decided to stop being its victim, fought for her life and cast the demon out. But that was all thanks to the man sitting at her bedside.
"Only because of you," she murmured, wiping the tears from her cheeks with one hand and reaching for him again with the other. Somehow he'd got inside her head to talk her from the edge of oblivion, helped her find the will to go on. When Wanda's resolve faltered, Daimon distracted her with a kiss, a gesture that refuted the monster's lies, stopped the demon's attempt to break her. Whether he realized it or not, it was the fire of Daimon's essence fused with her soul that fueled her fight to its end, gave her the strength and ruthlessness to finish it. There was no doubt in Wanda's mind that without Daimon's intervention, she never would have survived the possession.
"Thank you." Wanda raised his fingers to her lips to brush them with a kiss, a move she thought he might reject, but she still wanted to offer some token of her gratitude. She glanced up briefly to meet his gaze, and the heart rate monitor gave another cautionary blip, her pulse racing now for reasons other than distress and panic.