Chapter 22 #2
Now, my steps turned into a near-march. My skin buzzed with the ache of withdrawal, like I needed just one breath of him to keep myself from unraveling completely.
I reached my door and pushed it open immediately, but the air was wrong.
It was sterile, stripped bare, reeking of lavender and soap.
My heart lurched, a primal panic clawing at my chest.
It wasn’t like this two hours ago when I left here to go to the balcony.
My nest, the pile of Damien’s clothes tucked in the corner, was gone.
The bed was stripped, linens replaced with crisp, scentless sheets.
The wardrobe stood empty, not a trace of citrus left.
My knees buckled, and I sank to the floor, hands trembling as they reached for nothing, my breath ragged.
My breathing came in gasps, and I quickly rose again, moving fast. I tore through the room, yanking open drawers, ripping through the closet, finding only barren wood and the faint sting of cleaning chemicals.
My nest, my sanctuary, had been gutted. My hands shook, my pulse thundered, and that strange strength surged again, hot and untamed, my fingers tingling with the ghost of claws. Who had done this? Who had dared?
The door creaked, and Rielle’s scent hit me, something like sunflowers and smugness, sharp as a blade, cutting through the sterile air. She stood in the doorway, her hair cascading over one shoulder, her blue eyes glinting with a predator’s glee.
Her lips curved in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, a mockery of kindness. “Oh, Raven,” she purred, her voice honeyed venom, dripping with false pity. “You look like you’ve lost something precious. Did your little collection go missing?”
My blood roared, my vision narrowing to her smug face, her perfect features a mask hiding the cruelty beneath.
I took a step towards her, my legs unsteady but my fists clenched, the strange strength pulsing through me, urging me to act.
“You,” I spat, my voice a low growl, raw with rage. “You took them. His things. My things.”
Rielle stepped closer, her scent choking me, her smile sharpening like a blade drawn from its sheath.
“Damien’s belongings don’t belong in a guest room, Raven.
This isn’t your home. It’s mine.” She tilted her head, her eyes raking over me, lingering on my belly with a flicker of disdain.
“You’re not his mate. You’re not his luna. You’re a temporary inconvenience.”
Her words were a lash, each one striking deeper, igniting the fire in my chest. My hands shook, my breath heaving.
“You don’t know him,” I snapped, my voice trembling with fury. “You betrayed him. You broke his heart. You don’t get to waltz back in and act like you own him.”
Rielle looked at me with a confusion that reminded me of her amnesia, but I was too far gone to care.
Something in me had snapped. It was like I was on the edge of going feral myself.
Then, suddenly, she laughed, a sharp, crystalline sound that grated against my nerves, echoing in the barren room.
“Oh, sweet Raven. I’m his past, his present, and his future.
He’s nursing me back to health. I am his fated mate.
He adores me. Do you have any idea how sacred and intense a fated mate bond is? ”
She stepped closer, her scent overwhelming, her hand reaching out as if to pat my arm, a mockery of sympathy. “He pities you, Raven. That’s all this is. Pity for a pregnant stray.”
The world tilted, a surge of strength flooding my veins, wild and untamed. My hand flew up, a reflexive slap cracking across Rielle’s cheek, the sound a whip in the silent room. My palm stung, my breath ragged, a strange, desperate power pulsing through me.
Rielle staggered back, her hand flying to her cheek, already reddening. Her eyes went wide with disbelief and rage.
“You’ll pay for that, you stupid bitch!” she hissed, spinning toward me, her eyes blazing as she raised a hand, ready to strike.
But then footsteps echoed through the hall.
Damien’s scent hit me first, that sharp, addictive blend of citrus and cedar.
It clearly hit Rielle too, because in an instant, she dropped herself onto the bed, clutching her cheek like I’d torn her skin open.
And then, as if on cue, her sobs started loud, dramatic, and so annoyingly forced.
The sight made bile rise in my throat. Damien stepped into the room, his voice even, but edged with tension. “I left something in my quarters. Came back to grab it…and I heard a noise.”
His eyes swept the room and landed on Rielle. Her sobs swelled theatrically under his gaze, her entire frame shaking like a wounded child. His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking, and then when his eyes turned to me, the look of disappointment in them cut deeper than Rielle’s taunts.
“Raven,” he said, his voice low and controlled, but heavy with something that made my heart sink. “What happened?”
Rielle sobbed, her performance flawless, her shoulders shaking as she pointed a trembling finger at me. “She attacked me, Damien! I was just talking to her, trying to be kind, and she hit me!” Her voice broke, her tears glistening, the perfect victim in a play she’d scripted.
I opened my mouth to explain, to tell him about the nest, the violation, the cruel words that had sliced through me, but the words caught in my throat, choked by the sight of him standing there, his eyes flickering between us.
My heart thundered with my jealousy, my fear, and the fragile hope I’d let myself believe in. I’d slapped his true mate, and now he’d choose her, just like everyone said he would.