Damien.
I had felt uncomfortable inside my room from the mont night fell.
The Alpha heat had begun to crawl under my skin like a fever, hot, distracting, relentless. While my brothers were reckless enough to indulge whoever crossed their path during this cursed season, I had drawn a line for myself long ago.
Not tonight. Not ever, not unless it was with my fated mate.
On ordinary days, I could take pleasure in whoever wanted it. Won always hovered, eager to please an Alpha, eager to earn favor or be noticed.
But tonight?
This night was sacred, designed to strengthen a bond, to tie souls tighter, to fan sparks into wildfire. And my mate, my Goddess-given mate, turned out to be a rogue and, quite possibly, a spy.
The irony was cruel enough to make even the moon laugh.
I dragged a frustrated hand through my hair, every breath scorching hot. The walls of my room felt too tight, the air too heavy.
I tried pacing, tried ditation, even tried cold water splashed across my face.
Nothing worked.
My wolf howled in frustration beneath my skin, demanding what I refused to give him.
I finally stord outside into the cool night, letting the moonlight hit in an attempt to steady myself. But the mont I stepped into the garden, everything snapped.
There she was, Maria.
My mate.
Her lips locked with Darren’s.
For a second the world stopped spinning.
My vision tunneled, blood roaring in my ears. A sick, twisted ache tightened inside my chest, burning hotter than the heat that already tortured .
"Davian was right," I growled aloud, speaking to the wolf within as my fists clenched at my sides. "She failed. Failed spectacularly."
The test had been simple, stay away from Darren. No contact, no secret etings, no old emotions resurfacing. And there she stood, proving every suspicion carved into my bones.
It shouldn’t have mattered.
She was a rogue.
A suspect.
A burden we were forced to carry until we were sure she posed no threat.
Yet seeing another male’s mouth on hers...Fury tore through like claws dragging across bone.
I strode forward before I could second-guess myself, voice thundering across the garden.
"Maria!"
My voice cracked the air, echoing like the sky itself had split open.
The pair jumped, jerking apart.
Maria stiffened instantly, clearly stunned.
Darren, on the other hand, had the nerve to smirk, just a flick of a smile at the corner of his mouth, a silent taunt that poured gasoline over my rage.
"What are you doing with our guest?" I demanded, my voice deeper, harsher than I intended.
She didn’t answer.
Not a word.
Her silence only fueled my wolf further.
Darren stepped forward instead, still wearing that irritatingly confident expression.
"Alpha Damien," he said smoothly, "I just happened to stumble upon her but.."
He paused long enough for my temper to spike, then deliberately intertwined his fingers with hers.
The sight nearly tipped over the edge.
Touching her.
Claiming her.
As though he had any right.
I felt sothing jagged and unnaable tear through .
Possessiveness.
Jealousy.
A primal instinct I had no business acknowledging.
"She is my ma..." he started, unable to stop the words that nearly slipped free.
But Maria cut him off sharply, stepping away from Darren and yanking her hand out of his grip.
"His ex-pack mber," she corrected loudly, chin up but breath shaking.
"He was the Alpha of the pack I was exiled from."
Darren blinked, taken aback, clearly not expecting her to speak for herself, or against him.
And I... I almost smiled.
Finally, sothing that made sense.
I reached out and grabbed Maria’s wrist, not gently, not tenderly, but with enough force to stake a silent claim only she and my wolf would understand.
I pulled her firmly to my side, shielding her from Darren with my body.
"Alpha Darren," I said coolly, "if you don’t mind, I would love to discipline her."
He didn’t protest, he didn’t move, he just stared as I turned and led Maria away, out of the garden, back toward the house.
My skin still burned. My wolf still raged. But one thing was clear as the moon above us: Mate or not... Maria was ours to deal with.
Not Darren’s.
Not anymore.
Shortly after, we arrived at my bedroom, my steps thunderous and clipped with every ounce of anger building inside . I didn’t bother with gentleness. I didn’t bother with explanations.
I shoved her forward the mont the door slamd shut behind us. Maria stumbled, landing hard on the floor, palms scraping against the wooden surface.
The sight should not have satisfied , but it did, and that alone enraged all over again.
"What the hell do you think you were doing?" My voice exploded through the room, echoing against the walls like a whip cracking across exposed skin. The fury in my chest surged, untad, irrational, but at that mont I didn’t care.
"Do you go about kissing anyone you see now?" I barked again, jaw clenched so tightly it ached. "Is that what rogues do for entertainnt?"
She didn’t answer .
Not a flicker of response.
She just knelt where she had fallen, staring blankly at the floor like she couldn’t hear , or refused to.
Her silence was gasoline on fire.
"Say sothing!" I growled, pacing once before rounding on her again.
Not even the smallest flinch, not a tremor ca from her. She sat motionless, stiff, like a doll carved out of stone.
Does she like Darren?
The thought twisted through my gut like a blade. If she did, if that was why she kissed him, why the hell did she pull away when Darren tried to hold her hand?
Why reject him if she wanted him?
"Arrrrrrgh!"
The frustration dragged a raw yell from deep inside my chest, ripping out of before I could stop it.
I stalked toward her and lowered myself to her level, fingers gripping her chin with more force than I intended, jerking her face up to mine.
"I am talking to you!" I snarled directly at her, breaths harsh and uneven. "Answer !"
Still nothing.
Her golden eyes stared into mine, silent, glassy, distant, like she had sealed herself inside her own skull.
"Are you dumb?" I spat, shaking her chin lightly, desperate to provoke any kind of reaction.
Anger felt safer than the other emotion clawing up my throat, still no words, no defense, no plea.
Just emptiness.
I was seconds away from shaking her harder when sothing warm slid across my fingers.
Tears.
One drop, then another. Steady, silently searing in their simplicity.
It took a mont for my mind to connect the sensation with reality, Maria was crying.
She hadn’t whimpered. She hadn’t sniffed.
No trembling shoulders. Just tears quietly streaming down her face like grief had finally cut a hole in her skin and was bleeding out.
The sight hit harder than any punch.
My grip faltered.
I released her imdiately, watching red marks bloom across her cheek where my fingers had been. Guilt punched square in the chest, unexpected, sharp, and unwelco.
I straightened, breathing hard, trying to reassemble the Alpha composure I’d lost sowhere between rage and instinct.
She inhaled shakily, wiped nothing, and finally, finally spoke.
"Alpha Damien," she said softly, voice raw yet steady. "I need a favor from you."
I froze.
Of all the things I expected her to say, an explanation, an accusation, anything, this was the last.
I stared down at her, unable to hide the surprise in my expression. I had been demanding a reason, a fight, a confession.
Instead, she gave calm.
A request.
I didn’t respond.
Couldn’t, not yet.
But she didn’t wait for permission.
"I want you and your brothers to let go."
Her words landed like a blow straight to the sternum, cold, clean, decisive.
She finally lifted her eyes, glossy with tears that clung stubbornly to her lashes, shining like they refused to fall. And yet she didn’t flinch. For the first ti since we stepped into the room, she t my gaze, fully, directly, like a challenge and a surrender wrapped into one.
"I don’t belong here," she whispered.
The words were soft, barely a breath, but they hit with the force of a blow. There was no anger in her voice. No accusation. Not even bitterness. Just exhaustion, ancient, bone-deep emptiness that sank into the air between us.
"I want you to release ."
My chest tightened. My pulse stalled. Every muscle in , every wild instinct and raging thought froze in place. Even my wolf, who only minutes ago was pacing and snarling, ready to shred anything that tried to take her from , went still, silent, like he too understood what those words ant.
Let her go?
My mate?
A rogue she may be, a problem she may pose, a thorn she might remain, but the idea of cutting that thread severed the air in my lungs.
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