Maria.
I hated the fact that he could just move and kiss at any ti, anywhere, like I had no say in it, like my space wasn’t mine to guard.
Like my body was simply territory to be claid.
What the hell was wrong with the quadruplets?
Did they all think authority gave them unlimited access to whenever it pleased them? That being Alpha ant boundaries dissolved at their convenience?
Damien’s grip was firm—too firm—as he pinned my wrists lightly above my head against the wall. It wasn’t painful, but it was unyielding. His other hand settled at my waist, fingers pressing into my side just enough to keep from slipping away, as though I might disappear if he loosened his hold.
And then his lips were on mine.
No warning.
No hesitation.
He kissed like I was sothing to be claid.
Like I was a prize won after a long, patient hunt.
Slow at first—testing the waters, asuring my reaction.
Then deeper.
More assured.
Savouring.
As if he was morizing the taste of , committing it to mory like sothing he intended to return to.
My heart pounded wildly against my ribs, so loud I was sure he could hear it. I could feel the strength in him, the control. Damien didn’t rush the way Adrien sotis did. His dominance was quieter, steadier, but just as intense.
And my traitorous body...It responded.
Heat spread through unwillingly, blooming beneath my skin like sothing alive. My breath hitched despite my resistance, despite the anger curling in my chest. The familiarity of his scent wrapped around , warm, grounding, dangerously comforting.
It unsettled .
It intoxicated .
And I hated that most of all.
I hated how easily they could make my pulse race.
Hated that a part of reacted instinctively even when my mind scread no.
His lips moved with confidence, not rushed, not desperate, deliberate. Like he had all the ti in the world. Like he was certain I wouldn’t truly push him away.
That certainty angered .
I turned my head slightly, breaking the rhythm of the kiss just enough to breathe.
"Alpha Damien... please stop..." I whispered, my voice uneven, my breath brushing against his jaw.
He didn’t step back.
He didn’t loosen his grip.
"Stop?" he murmured near my lips, his voice low, controlled. "I don’t think I recall you telling my brother to stop... monts ago."
The accusation hit its mark.
"I... your brother... I did," I shot back quickly, though my voice trembled, whether from anger or sothing else, I wasn’t sure.
His eyes darkened, sothing possessive flashing in them. "You think I need permission to touch what belongs in my space?"
The words made my stomach twist painfully.
Belongs.
In his space.
As if proximity equaled ownership.
As if I was an object positioned within his territory.
My wrists strained lightly against his hold, not violently, but enough to remind him I wasn’t yielding willingly.
"I don’t belong to your space," I said, forcing steadiness into my tone, lifting my chin despite the position he had pinned in. My wrists were still held above my head, my back pressed against the wall, "And I don’t belong to you."
For a fraction of a second, sothing flickered in his eyes.
It wasn’t anger, it was challenge, Interest.
As if my defiance amused him rather than deterred him.
"You say that," he replied quietly, leaning closer again. His breath brushed against my cheek, warm and controlled, sending an unwanted shiver down my spine. "But you don’t pull away hard enough."
The accusation burned.
It settled deep in my chest, igniting both sha and fury.
"I—I..." My words tangled, not because I didn’t have a response, but because the closeness, the heat of him, made it difficult to think clearly. "Alpha Damien, I am done cleaning your room. I should take my leave," I said sharply, trying to gather what little authority I still had at this mont.
His grip tightened slightly.
Not enough to hurt.
But enough to remind I wasn’t the one in control.
"Leave?" he repeated softly. "I don’t think I’ve given you my permission, Maria."
The possessiveness in his tone made my jaw clench.
Permission.
As if I required it.
As if my movents depended on his approval.
"I... I..." I started again, frustration building in my throat.
Before I could finish, his lips claid mine once more.
This ti there was no hesitation, no testing, it was deeper, more demanding.
His head tilted, angling the kiss to deepen it further, pressing insistently against my mouth as though he ant to erase every word of resistance I had spoken.
My breath caught sharply.
My fingers curled instinctively despite being restrained, betraying the tension surging through . My pulse thundered in my ears, and the strength in his hold made it impossible to ignore how easily he could overpower if he chose to.
And then, the footsteps from earlier grew louder.
My heart stopped.
They were coming closer.
Toward this room.
Panic shot through instantly, cold and sharp, slicing through the haze of the kiss.
What if I was accused again?
What if soone walked in and saw this?
The whispers.
The judgnt.
The humiliation.
I had already endured enough. Enough stares that lingered too long. Enough assumptions whispered behind my back. Enough trauma that clung to like a shadow no one else could see.
I couldn’t take another one.
Not again.
I turned my head sharply, breaking the kiss just enough to breathe.
"Alpha Damien, stop," I whispered urgently, my voice tight with panic.
He didn’t move.
He didn’t stop.
If anything, his grip remained steady, as if the approaching footsteps ant nothing to him, but they ant everything to .
My mind raced with worst-case outcos.
Without thinking further, without allowing fear to paralyze , I acted.
I bit his lower lip sharply, sharp enough to force distance.
He pulled back imdiately with a low hiss, his hand flying to his mouth as he touched the sudden sting.
"What the..." he muttered, his voice low and edged with surprise as his fingers ca up to touch his now slightly swollen lip. His brows furrowed as he stared at , confusion and sothing darker flickering in his eyes.
I was panting.
My chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath shallow and uneven as I struggled to steady myself. My heart was still racing wildly, pounding against my ribs as though it wanted to break free. I could feel the heat lingering on my lips, the imprint of his kiss still there, and it only fueled my urgency to erase every trace of what had just happened.
I didn’t say a word.
I didn’t look away either.
I simply stared back at him, my gaze firm despite the storm raging inside .
Without wasting another second, I adjusted my clothes quickly, smoothing down the fabric of my dress, straightening the neckline, making sure nothing appeared disheveled. My hands trembled faintly, but I forced them to steady. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, once, then again, as if I could remove the evidence of his touch through sheer determination.
I couldn’t care less about his reaction.
Whether he was angry.
Whether he was amused.
Whether he was offended.
None of it mattered right now.
My focus was on regaining my composure.
On making sure that if anyone walked in, they would see nothing but a composed rogue performing her duties.
Not a woman pinned against a wall.
Not soone caught in another compromising situation.
I inhaled deeply, willing my breathing to slow.
Calm.
Controlled.
Unbothered.
That was what I needed to look like.
And then....the door opened.
The sound felt louder than it should have, slicing through the charged silence of the room.
Davian strode in majestically, his presence filling the space imdiately. His posture was confident, commanding without effort, his expression composed and unreadable. Every step he took carried authority, the kind that demanded attention without raising his voice.
Vanessa was on his arm, perfectly poised beside him. Elegant. Deliberate. Her chin slightly lifted, her gaze calm and observant. She looked every bit the future Luna, polished and untouchable.
I froze, not outwardly, I couldn’t dare to give them a chance to read anything on , but inside I was still.
For a split second, everything felt suspended.
The air.
The sound.
Even my own thoughts.
My mind scread at to remain steady.
Do not look guilty.
Do not look shaken.
Do not look like anything had happened.
I straightened subtly, forcing my shoulders back, my chin up. I refused to let them see even a crack in . Not the lingering panic. Not the humiliation that had almost resurfaced. Not the chaos Damien’s actions had stirred.
I would not give them that satisfaction.
Whatever they saw when they looked at now...It would be control, and nothing else.
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