Chapter 5
Alaric’s mouth was still wrapped around my finger when the voice cut through the room like a blade.
I jerked back instantly, eyes darting to the glass doors.
Damon was striding toward us, fury written in every step.
He yanked my hand away and pushed me behind him like he was shielding his most precious possession.
“Alaric–Mahina’s my mate.”
That’s when I noticed Damon was holding a small cake box too–cherry flavor, just like the one Alaric had brought.
I quickly tugged at his sleeve, wide–eyed and guilty.
“I–I’m sorry, Damon. I thought you were… I mean, I didn’t realize…”
My gaze flicked toward the opened box on the table. The cherry missing from the top.
“I didn’t mean to,” I added softly, eyes lowered, looking every bit the remorseful girl caught in a mistake.
“She was just feeding me a cherry,” Alaric said, cutting in with a blank stare. “Nothing else.”
Damon’s jaw twitched. He looked between the two of us for a moment, then forced a tight smile.
“I misunderstood,” he said. But the second Alaric turned to leave, his whole demeanor changed.
He marched over to the table, grabbed the untouched cake Alaric had brought and tossed it straight into the trash.
Then he turned to me, slammed a hand against the wall beside my head, and caged me in.
“Don’t ever eat anything my brother gives you again. I get jealous.”
I almost laughed.
Jealous? He was the one who drugged his brother and sent him into my bed.
And the same guy who was screwing Emily not even twenty–four hours ago.
Now he wanted to act like some devoted lover? On what planet?
Still, I gave him a wide–eyed, obedient smile. “Okay… I won’t.”
Damon studied my face like he was trying to figure out if I meant it.
Then something flickered behind his eyes. He must’ve been pleased with what he saw, because the next thing I knew, he was leaning in to kiss me.
My stomach twisted.
Ever since learning the truth about him, every time he touched me felt like swallowing poison.
I clenched my fists–then bolted, hands covering my mouth, straight into the bathroom.
I barely made it in time.
When I came out, I half–expected Damon to be furious.
But instead, he was… cheerful.
Too cheerful.
He guided me gently to the couch and sat beside me, eyes full of concern.
“You feeling okay?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear like he hadn’t just made my skin crawl.
I watched the excitement dancing in his eyes and nearly burst out laughing.
He was so desperate he’d forgotten basic biology.
“Probably just an upset stomach,” I said with a weak smile, patting my belly.
Damon frowned, then narrowed his eyes like something just clicked.
“Wait… isn’t your ovulation around the seventh?”
Chapter 5
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I tilted my head, feigning innocence. “Maybe? Why?”
He reached for my hand, rubbing his thumb over my palm like he was sealing a deal.
“If there’s an accident–if you get pregnant–I’ll take responsibility.”
Of course he would. Damon never asked for permission–he just took what he wanted.
When he first pursued me, I told him no.
But that didn’t matter.
One night, his men cornered me outside the packhouse.
Told me if I didn’t agree to be with him, they’d throw me out of Rosethorn territory.
No protection. No pack.
Just another rogue Omega no one would bother to bury.
I believed them.
Because in a place like this, power was everything–and I had none. I was nothing more than a pawn in their empire.
I leaned into him now, soft as silk, letting my voice drop.
“And if I do get pregnant… will you mark me?”
Damon stilled. Then he nodded, firm and certain. “Of course. You’re the only one I’ll ever mark.”
Sure. He’d mark me–then spend the rest of his life resenting it.
Take it out on me. On the child. On everyone but himself.
But this time? I’m not letting him get that far.
Later that night, I stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.
Damon was already waiting, eyes dark and heavy with anticipation. He pounced before I could move, pinning me to the bed with a low growl.
“Let’s go again,” he whispered against my skin. “You tell me–was I better tonight… or last night?”
My heart slammed against my
ribs.
Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.
He climbed off me long enough to strip down, unbuckling his belt with quick, jerky movements.
I watched in dread as he stood there, bare and eager, muscles coiled tight.
He reached for me-
And then-
Knock. Knock.
A voice came through the door.
“Damon, your phone’s in the study. Grandfather’s calling–pick up.” Alaric’s voice. Calm. Steady. Like a rope yanking me back from the edge of a cliff.
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