Chapter 13 Damien
Damien
After our talk, Karina excused herself to my bedroom, exhaustion from everything, and the lack of sleep this morning finally catching up with her.
I'm pacing the small confines of my cabin like a caged animal, pausing only to check on her every few minutes.
Each time I enter the bedroom, I'm hit with the intoxicating blend of our scents mingling together.
My wolf purrs with satisfaction at the sight of her curled up in our bed, her curls spilling across my pillow, her face peaceful in sleep.
It's better this way. Sleep is the only reprieve she has from the constant ache that I can feel in her. The same ache that has me prowling restlessly, checking windows and doors, my senses hyper alert to any threat.
Hours pass until I can’t stay any longer.
The meeting with Lockhart’s potential recruits is an hour.
With one last look, I leave the confines of my bedroom and head back out to the living room, where my go bag is waiting for me on the kitchen table.
Fuck. Leaving her like this is killing me, but violating the agreement made by my father with Alpha Anselm is non-negotiable.
All I need to do is get through tonight, do my fucking job, and then maybe I can take a few days.
Just long enough to get her through her cycle, the full moon, and whatever comes after that.
I reach into my bag and pull out my sidearm when a noise comes from behind me.
“You look like shit,” Elias remarks from the doorway of my cabin, leaning against the frame with that casual arrogance only the heir to an empire can pull off. “Are you sure you can handle this tonight?”
I continue checking my weapons, sliding an extra magazine into my pocket without looking up. “I've killed men in worse condition.”
“That's not what I meant.”
I know exactly what he means. Our incomplete bond is tearing me apart from the inside out. Every part of me aches to stay with Karina, to shield her from the wolves already circling her scent. But I have a job to do—one that might keep us both alive if I play it right.
“She'll be safe with you.” It's not a question because it can't be. If I allow doubt to creep in, I'll never make it out the door.
Elias steps into the cabin, closing the distance between us. “You know my brothers won't stay away for long. Matthew's pride is wounded—literally. He'll be looking to even the score.”
“If he touches her—”
“He won't,” Elias interrupts, his blue eyes serious for once. “I'll make sure of it. I've already told the security team that no one enters this area of the compound without my explicit permission.”
I holster my weapon, eyeing him skeptically. “And your father's okay with that?”
“My father's distracted with the border issue. Some kind of territorial dispute with the Lockhart pack.” He shrugs, but there's tension in his shoulders.
“More like getting your father out of town while he creeps in on his business.”
“Probably, but Lockhart suspects you're with him, so there’s that.”
I grunt in acknowledgment, strapping a knife to my ankle. “If anything happens to her—”
“You'll tear my throat out, rip my balls off, feed me my own intestines. I know the drill.” Elias's attempt at humor falls flat. “But seriously, Dom. Are you sure you're good to do this job tonight? Your control seems...tenuous at best.”
My jaw tightens. “I don't have a choice.”
“Everyone has choices.”
“Not me. Not anymore.” I check my watch, forty-five minutes until the meeting. “If I don't show up tonight, Anselm will see it as a direct challenge to his authority. And right now, he is the only thing keeping the other alphas or your brothers from making a play for Karina.”
Elias's expression softens slightly. “You really care about her.”
“She's my mate.”
“It's more than that. I've seen you kill for my father without blinking. I've seen you take bullets without flinching. But I've never seen you like this—ready to tear apart anyone who looks at her wrong.”
I turn away, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. “I don't have time for this psychoanalysis bullshit.”
“Make time. Because if you go out there half-crazed with bond sickness, you're going to get yourself killed. And then what happens to her?”
“I'll be fine,” I growl, shoving the last of my equipment into my pockets. “Just keep her safe.”
A soft noise from the bedroom doorway makes us both turn. Karina stands there, hair tousled from sleep, wearing one of my t-shirts that hangs to mid-thigh on her smaller frame. The sight of her in my clothes sends a wave of satisfaction through me that I struggle to restrain.
“You're leaving.”
“Put some clothes on, Karina.” The request spills from my lips as a demand. She flinches. Fuck. “Please.”
Karina looks down, realizing how naked she is in front of Elias, and moves to cover herself up with the door frame.
I force myself to stay where I am, knowing that if I get too close to her now, I might not leave at all. “I’ll be back. Just like we talked about.”
“Just be careful,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest like she's holding herself together.
I nod stiffly, not trusting myself to speak. If I open my mouth now, I might tell her everything—how the thought of leaving her tears at my insides, how every cell in my body claws to stay, how I’d rather cut off my own arm than walk out that door.
“I’ll be back before dawn,” I manage.
With one last look at Karina—memorizing the sight of her in my shirt, her scent saturating my space—I wrench myself away and stride through the door.
The night air hits my overheated skin like a slap, carrying traces of other wolves on patrol around the compound.
Every part of me howls to turn back, to barricade us inside until we can complete the bond under the full moon.
Instead, I force myself toward my car, each step feeling like I'm dragging lead weights. The distance from Karina creates an immediate ache in my chest.
I slide behind the wheel, gripping it so hard it creaks under the pressure.
I fucking hate this.
Every step away from Karina feels like tearing off a piece of my own skin.
“She's fine,” I mutter to myself. “Elias will keep her safe.”
My wolf snarls at the thought of another male—any male—near our mate. The rational part of me knows Elias is trustworthy. He's kept my secrets before. Protected my back in situations that would have gotten us both killed if he'd hesitated.
But he's still a Bellandi. Still answerable to his father. And Anselm made his intentions clear at breakfast this morning.
Two more days. Two more fucking days until the full moon. I can get through this. I have to for her sake and for mine.
I start the car with a growl, forcing myself to focus on the mission ahead rather than the woman I'm leaving behind. The engine roars to life, vibrating beneath me as I pull away from the cabin.
Fuck Anselm. Fuck my father. Fuck this entire situation.
The road twists through the redwoods, shadows flickering across my windshield as I take the turns faster than I should.
My wolf paces restlessly beneath my skin, testing the limits of my restraint with every mile that stretches between us and Karina.
I roll down the window, letting the cold night air slap my face, trying to clear my head of her scent still clinging to my clothes.
I need to compartmentalize. Lock away my need to be with Karina long enough to do my job. The Reaper can't afford distractions, and tonight, I need to be the Reaper more than ever.
The old Kellerman building sits on the outskirts of Blackridge, a forgotten warehouse that's been abandoned for decades. Perfect for clandestine meetings between traitors. I park half a mile away and continue on foot.
The forest around me is alive with night sounds as I move silently between the trees. My training takes over, body shifting into predator mode despite the constant ache pulling me back toward the compound, back toward her.
Focus, damn it.
I circle the Kellerman building once, cataloging entry points, potential escape routes, and the three vehicles parked behind the structure. A black SUV with tinted windows. A mid-range sedan. A pickup truck with a gun rack—typical Blackridge business owner. All local plates.
My wolf's senses pick up five distinct scents inside.
The brewery owner, the apothecary woman, the auto shop guy, and two others I can't immediately place.
No sign of Lockhart himself yet, which is interesting.
Either he's running late, or he's smart enough to send representatives rather than show his face.
I check my watch. Ten minutes early. Perfect.
Slipping through a broken window at the back of the building, I land soundlessly on the dusty concrete.
The warehouse yawns open around me, cavernous and cold, with support columns rising like skeletal trees that offer perfect cover.
I keep low, moving from shadow to shadow until I’m close enough to catch the murmur of conversation drifting from the cluster of old office rooms at the far end.
“—ridiculous protection fees,” a woman complains. Sierra from the apothecary. Her voice carries the brittle edge of exhaustion. “Bellandi takes forty percent of my profits and calls it insurance. Insurance against what? His own threats?”
“Same here,” a man adds, deeper timbre roughened by frustration. Richard. The mechanic. “His people came by last week demanding double what we agreed to. Said it was a market adjustment.” He spits, the wet sound sharp against the silence. “More like extortion.”
My jaw tightens. They think they’re being squeezed now?
They don’t understand the real price of weakness.
What Bellandi takes is steep, but it keeps predators from other packs off t doorsteps.
Try explaining that to wolves who have lived in relative peace thanks to Anselm’s protection, though.
Might as well be lecturing calculus to toddlers.