Chapter 15
Damien
Idrive through the endless night with death riding shotgun. Not the kind I deal in but the kind that nearly stole her from me. The kind that still might.
Karina sleeps beside me, her body curled toward the door like she's ready to run even in unconsciousness. Blood still crusts beneath her fingernails. Karina fought like hell tonight. Pride swells in my chest even as rage continues to simmer beneath my skin.
I nearly lost her.
Three more hours until we reach my father's territory in Oregon.
Three more hours of mountain roads and forest shadows, each mile putting distance between us and the chaos we left behind.
My knuckles ache from gripping the steering wheel too tight, but I can't seem to loosen my hold. If I do, I might shatter completely.
The headlights cut through fog that clings to the asphalt like ghostly fingers. My wolf paces restlessly beneath my skin, still half-feral from her terror.
“Karina Rosewood.” I test the words in the silence of the car.
Could it be true? Elena had been long gone by the time I was born. I only knew about her from the stories my father had told me. If Karina is truly her daughter...
“Fuck.” The word escapes on a breath. It’s the kind of revelation that will shatter our world as soon as the news gets out. Keeping her safe will be all-out war.
Karina stirs, her brow furrowing in sleep as if she can sense my turmoil.
The road narrows as we climb higher into the mountains, switchbacks hugging cliffs that drop into nothing below.
My father's territory lies just beyond these peaks—the Marek pack lands that have been in our family for generations.
I haven't been home in nearly a year, not since my father sent me away to learn my lesson.
Learn. As if becoming the Reaper was some kind of education.
My phone buzzes on the console between us, Elias's name flashing on the screen. I snatch it up, keeping one eye on the winding road.
“Tell me you're alive,” I growl into the phone.
“Barely. They thought they finished me. Rookie mistake.”
“How bad?”
“I’m not going to be running marathons anytime soon. Fuckers barely missed braining me,” he coughs, the wet sound making my jaw clench. “
“Where are you now?”
“Safe house in Ferndale. My father is on his way back.” There's a pause, the sound of liquid being poured. Probably whiskey if I know Elias. “Is she okay? Karina?”
I glance at her sleeping form, the blood still matting her hair, the bruise forming on her cheekbone where someone struck her. My wolf snarls beneath my skin.
“She's alive.”
“Good.” Another pause. “They knew what they were after, Dom. She was their target. Said something about—”
“Elena Rosewood. I know. Lockhart's people told me before I killed them.”
“Fuck.” Elias exhales sharply. “If that's true...shit will hit the fucking fan, my friend. You’ll be enemy number one. Tell me you have a plan.”
“I'm taking her to my father. If she's who they say she is, they'll come after her again. And with more firepower next time.”
“No shit.” Elias coughs again, and I hear the strain in his voice. “You’re going to need more than your pack to protect her.”
“Can I count on your pack?”
“Look, Dom. If I were Alpha, I wouldn’t even hesitate to join up. But my father is a different story. He's furious about the breach, but he's also asking questions about her that make me uneasy.”
“What kind of questions?”
“The kind that makes me think he might have known who she was all along.” There's a pause, the sound of ice clinking against glass. “Be careful, Dom. I’m starting to think this goes deeper than Lockhart.”
“I know.” This isn't just about territory or business anymore—this is about power that transcends normal pack politics. “Watch your back.”
“Always do.”
The line goes dead before I can respond. I toss the phone onto the console.
Karina whimpers in her sleep, her body tensing as another nightmare grips her.
I pull over at the next wide spot in the road, gravel crunching under the tires as I bring the car to a stop. My hands shake as I reach for her, unable to watch her suffer through whatever hell her subconscious has conjured.
“Wake up, kitten.”
Her eyes snap open, wild and unfocused. For a moment, she doesn’t recognize me, her body coiled to fight or flee. Then the bond pulses between us, and recognition floods her features.
“Damien?”
“I'm here.” I cup her face in my hands, thumbs stroking across her cheekbones. “You're safe.”
She melts into my touch, a soft sob escaping her lips. “I keep seeing them.”
“Tell me about it,” I declare, pulling her closer until our foreheads touch. Her tears wet my fingers as I cradle her face. “Tell me what you see.”
“Their hands.” She shudders against me. “I can still feel them grabbing me, trying to put that collar on me. And Elias—there was so much blood—”
“Elias is alive,” I tell her, relief washing through me when her body sags against mine. “I just spoke to him. He's hurt but safe.”
She nods against my palm, her breath coming in shaky gasps that spark something raw and feral inside me. My wolf prowls closer to the surface, desperate to comfort her.
“I thought I'd never see you again,” she whispers, her fingers digging into my wrists as if to anchor herself to something solid. “I thought they'd take me before you could—”
I don’t let her finish. I can’t. The thought of her slipping through my fingers—of those fuckers dragging her away, touching what’s mine—detonates the last thread of restraint I have left.
My mouth crashes down on hers drinking in her gasp like it belongs to me.
Then she breaks—melts into me with a soft, sinful moan that nearly brings me to my knees. Her lips part for me, and I take everything. My tongue sweeps into her mouth, desperate and hungry, tasting her submission.
I drag her across the console without finesse, needing her closer, needing her on me.
She lands on my lap with a whimper that shreds the last of my humanity.
My hands roam without hesitation, over her hips, up her sides, palming the swell of her breast through her thin shirt.
I squeeze hard enough to make her gasp, to remind her whose hands she’s in.
“Mine,” I growl against her mouth. “You fucking belong to me.”
Her fingers tangle in my hair, nails scraping my scalp, and she arches into me like she needs this just as badly. Like she wants to be taken. Marked. Owned.
I slip my hand beneath her shirt, dragging it up until my palm meets bare skin. Her nipple is already tight, begging for my attention. I pinch it between my fingers, and she moans into my mouth, louder this time, shameless.
My cock throbs beneath her, straining against my jeans. She shifts her hips, and I nearly lose it, a low, guttural sound tearing from my throat.
“I should throw you in the backseat and remind you exactly what that mark on your neck means,” I rasp, nipping at her lower lip hard enough to sting. “But not here. Not where anyone could take you from me again.”
She shivers in my arms, her eyes heavy-lidded and lips kiss-swollen, and for a moment I forget about everything else—the danger, the blood, the war waiting just beyond the tree line.
Right now, all I know is her.
And I will tear apart the fucking world before I let anyone else touch her again.
“You deserve better than the front seat of a car on the side of a mountain road.” I brush my thumb across her swollen lips, marveling at how soft they are despite everything she’s been through tonight. “Because when I make you mine, it won't be while we're running for our lives.”
Her breath catches, but she doesn’t pull away. Her body is still pressed against mine, warm and trembling, and all I want is to bury myself in her until the rest of the world disappears. But I don’t. Not yet.
Instead, I let my touch linger just a moment longer—thumb trailing down her throat to where her pulse thrums wild beneath skin that tastes like smoke and defiance.
She tilts her head, exposing her neck in the smallest, most instinctive show of trust I’ve ever seen.
My wolf growls his approval, but I force myself to still.
Not here. Not like this.
“I’ll make it right. You have my word.”
She swallows hard, her fingers still twisted in my shirt, and I feel her walls slowly rising again gathering the pieces of herself she had let slip for just a breath. Just enough to let me in.
I press one last kiss to the corner of her mouth, then shift her gently off my lap and back into the passenger seat. She curls into herself, silent but watching me.
The engine rumbles back to life beneath us, and I force my hands to stay on the wheel where they won’t betray how close I am to turning this car around just to take her somewhere I can finish what we started.
But I don’t.
I drive. The hours pass, the car ride stretching between us like a live wire.
Karina hasn't spoken since our roadside encounter, her face turned toward the window as miles disappear beneath our tires.
The silence should bother me, but it doesn't. My wolf understands what words can't express—the terror still clinging to her skin, the uncertainty of what lies ahead.
The first hints of dawn bleed across the horizon when I see it.
My ancestral home. The Marek compound rises from the mist-shrouded forest like something from another time—stone and timber and power stretching across the mountainside.
Watchtowers mark the perimeter, sentries already alerted to our approach.
My father's security doesn't miss a thing.
“We're here.”
Karina stirs beside me, tension radiating through her body as she takes in the imposing structure ahead. “This is where you grew up?”
“This is where I was born.” The distinction matters, though I can't explain why.