Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Raven
The Shadow Thorn pack house felt like a prison of stone and whispers, its walls closing in, trapping me in a cage of my own making.
If I had stuck to the plan and never allowed myself to feel that what had been happening with Alpha Damien and me could ever be anything other than attraction, maybe I would not have felt so hurt and trapped.
I stood on the balcony overlooking the pack house, the lush gardens, and sprawling estate stretching out below me. It was beautiful, serene, and completely at odds with the storm in my head. My mind was a million miles away.
My hands clenched at my sides, nails biting into my palms, as the memory of last night burned through me: Damien’s arms around me, his breath warm against my hair, his murmur like he was making a promise to me: I’d do anything for you.
Then came the knock.
Gianna’s voice followed, delivering the summons that shattered whatever fragile moment we had just created. At the mere mention of Rielle’s name, Damien was on his feet in an instant, sharp and alert, as if something vital had just snapped back into place within him. And I watched.
I watched as he reached for the clothes he had peeled off only moments ago with aching urgency, with heat and hunger for me. And yet now, there was a shift. A different kind of urgency in him. One that had nothing to do with me.
Something in my chest twisted: jealousy, raw, unfiltered, ugly jealousy. And worse than the feeling itself was the shame that came with it. Who was I to feel jealous?
Rielle, his fated mate, had just regained her sanity. She was chosen for him by the Moon Goddess herself. Was I expecting him to stay wrapped up in bedsheets with me while the woman he once loved clawed her way back to herself?
I moved more slowly than he did. Maybe it was the weight I carried, my own and that of the child growing inside me.
Or maybe it was the heaviness in my chest, thick and reluctant.
I didn’t want to go out there. But I did, eventually.
And when I saw them, the sight was beautiful in a way that devastated me.
Damien stood beside her, his every move measured and restrained, like he was deliberately keeping his distance from her. But even that space between them felt too narrow for me. The sight of him near her tugged at something deep in me.
And then Rielle looked up at him with wide, wonder-filled eyes and smiled.
“My love,” she breathed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
My love.
That’s what she called him. The man who had just promised me he would do anything for me. The man who, only moments ago, had been inside me. The same man who leaped out of the bed we shared to answer her call without hesitation.
Damien turned just as I stepped forward, as if he’d sensed me before he saw me. Rielle followed his gaze, and then her eyes landed on me.
Something shifted in her expression. Her head tilted slightly, like she was trying to understand who this stranger was, standing here in her house. Then, she turned back to Damien and asked, coolly, “Who is this?”
There was a pause. I spoke before Damien could.
“Raven Nightbane. From the Ivory Moon Pack.”
Rielle smiled, the gesture smooth and sharp. “A pleasure, Raven. I’m sure you know who I am.”
“I do.”
Her gaze swept over me, slow and assessing. There was something behind her eyes, something edged and territorial. When her gaze dropped to my belly, it narrowed.
“You seem rather far along, Raven. Shouldn’t you be with your pack? Your family? I imagine your due date is close.”
Before I answered, Damien’s voice cut in, calm but firm.
“No. She stays here. Especially as she is going to be the mother of my child.”
He said it with a kind of quiet claim that sent a rush of heat through me. It was firm and possessive.
But I didn’t get a chance to bask in it as I caught the look on Rielle’s face. First, it was a look of surprise, fast and fleeting. Then her face twisted. Her gaze raked over me again, colder this time, lips tightening into a scowl.
“Oh,” she finally said, her eyes locking with mine. And in them, I saw raw hatred, immediate and visceral.
“I must’ve been away a long time, then,” she muttered, jaw clenched.
“Yes,” Damien said flatly.
She didn’t respond. Instead, she pivoted, her voice shifting gears like nothing had happened, launching into a new subject, her tone light. What followed was a mess of awkward, fragmented conversation.
But even as the words passed between us, a few things became excruciatingly clear. First, Rielle remembered nothing.
The longer they spoke, the more I saw Damien’s brow furrow in concern.
He called for the pack doctor, who came quickly and confirmed what he had begun to suspect.
Rielle suffered from a form of amnesia. Her memories were scattered.
Her crimes were completely erased from her mind.
She had no recollection of the murders she committed in her feral state.
That must have come as a relief to her, maybe even to Damien. But the second truth was more brutal. Of all the things Rielle had forgotten, she hadn’t forgotten him. She remembered being his mate. She remembered being Luna. She remembered being his love.
She remembered the part of her life where she belonged to him. And only that. And may the Goddess help me, I knew I had no rights. We agreed to keep things professional. I was even the one who said there would be no emotions involved when Damien and I started this whole arrangement.
But as I stood there, watching the way she looked at him like he was hers, a quiet ache coiled in my chest. She was the one fate had chosen for him, and knowing that felt like something folding in on itself deep inside me.
It hurt more than I expected it to. The feeling only deepened when Damien told her that I was carrying his child. Rielle didn’t say much. Just a quiet, measured “Oh…” But it wasn’t the word that struck me. It was the look.
The way her gaze shifted when it landed on me was subtle, sharp, and unmistakable. It changed in that instant. And perhaps only another woman would have caught it, a flicker of something cold and ancient in her eyes. She didn’t know me. But she didn’t have to.
I was carrying a child. Her fated mate’s child. And that alone was enough to summon a silent, reflexive hatred. But even that didn’t pierce as deeply as what came after.
It was the way they moved together: fluidly, instinctively, like two pieces that had always belonged in the same pattern and the way she walked beside him, always just close enough to brush his arm.
And Damien…he didn’t have to try. With her, it was effortless. It was like when he stood beside me, it always felt like we were fighting gravity. Like we were trying to steady ourselves in a storm. But when he stood with her, the air was still and the skies were clear.
I was still on the balcony, lost in thought, when Damien stepped out of the building. He had said earlier that he needed to leave for “urgent pack business.”
He paused just outside the door, then looked up. His eyes found mine. A rare smile tugged at his lips, soft and unguarded, and for a moment, it melted something inside me. But then Rielle appeared, stepping out of the building just behind him. She followed the direction of his gaze and saw me.
She moved quickly, closing the distance between them, every step dripping with practiced grace, all sugar and silk.
“Good luck, my love,” she said sweetly, pressing herself against him.
My chest tightened. The burn came fast and hot. Then, without hesitation, she tilted her head up and kissed him. It was bold, calculated, and possessive. Her hands splayed across his chest like she was staking a claim.
My breath caught. I gripped the balcony railing hard, knuckles bleaching white as the wood groaned beneath my fingers. Something surged inside me, a strength that felt foreign, pulsing through me like the ghost of my lost wolf.
Damien didn’t kiss her back. He stiffened, then pulled away sharply, setting her aside with both hands like her touch had scorched him. But the damage was done. The fire in my chest had already spread.
I turned, fleeing the balcony, my boots echoing on the hardwood, each step a drumbeat of rage and hurt. The pack’s whispers chased me, slithering under my skin: Rielle’s his true mate. Raven’s nothing.
I climbed the stairs, one hand cradling my belly, the baby’s faint kick a tether to reality.
My pregnancy suddenly felt heavier, both in a way that anchored me and exacerbated my spiraling emotions.
My body ached with fatigue, my mind a storm of doubt.
The blood duel with Ivy was drawing closer, and I was still wolfless.
Worse, I hadn’t been training with Damien as he’d been spending more time with Rielle.
When he trained me, I felt steady and capable. But without him, a quiet helplessness had begun to creep in, no matter how hard I tried to push it back.
It felt like every emotional dam inside me had finally cracked open, spilling out in waves I couldn’t contain. My steps quickened. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones sharpening everything to the point of being unbearable, but I was fraying at the edges.
All I could think about was getting to my room to call Misha. I needed to talk to her. The urge to hear her voice, to let the words tumble out, was almost overwhelming. But not as overwhelming as the pull toward my room. Toward my sanctuary. My nest.
It was the one place that felt like safety. There, Damien’s scent of citrus and cedar clung to the air like something sacred. It always calmed me, the way it wrapped around my nerves and slowed the frantic beat of my heart. The space had become an extension of him.
My nesting phase had only intensified that need. I’d filled the room with his shirts, his jackets, anything that carried his scent. It was as if my body knew that only the presence of him, even in the air, could settle the chaos inside me.