Chapter 16
Karina
Water drips from my hair onto Damien's plush carpet as I stand in the middle of his childhood bedroom, wrapped in a towel that costs more than my monthly rent.
The shower still steams up the bathroom behind us, evidence of promises made under hot water and desperate hands.
My body hums with aftershocks, the place between my thighs still pulsing from his touch.
I'm still processing what happened in the shower when I spot something that wasn't there before. On the edge of his bed lies a neatly folded stack of clothes—a soft gray sweater and what looks like matching leggings.
“Whose clothes are these?” I ask, moving closer. As I lean in, I catch an unfamiliar female scent clinging to the fabric.
Damien glances over as he pulls a fresh shirt over his head, muscles rippling beneath tattooed skin. “My sister’s.”
I run my fingers over the soft material, suddenly aware of how real this all is. I'm not just in his territory, I'm being absorbed into his world.
He crosses the room to stand behind me. His chest presses against my back.
I lift the sweater and examine it more closely. It's expensive, cashmere maybe, and impossibly soft against my fingers. Nothing like the threadbare clothes I left behind. “Will I meet her soon?”
“After we see my father.” His grip steadies on my hips, heat seeping through his palms. “She might keep her distance at first. After what she’s endured, letting anyone close takes time.”
I set the sweater down, turning in his arms. The towel shifts, and I catch it before it falls completely. “And what will you tell your family? About us?”
His focus drops to where my hands clutch the towel.
“That you’re mine. That anyone with a problem can take it up with me.
” His fingers slide over mine, prying the fabric from my grip and letting it fall in a heap at my feet.
“As much as I hate to say this, get dressed, kitten. My father doesn’t like to be kept waiting. ”
Reluctantly, I reach for the borrowed clothes. The leggings and sweater slip over my skin easily.
“There's something I need to ask you. Who is Elena Rosewood?”
Damien stills, his expression instantly guarded. “How do you know that name, kitten?”
“When they came for me, one of them said something.” I swallow hard, the memory of those terrifying moments flooding back. “He said Lockhart wanted to meet her daughter.”
Damien's face gives nothing away.
“Who is she?” I press.
Damien runs a hand through his damp hair. “Elena was a legend among our kind. The only female alpha to ever exist.”
“Alpha?” The word feels strange on my tongue. “Like your father?”
“More powerful, some would say.” He moves to the window, his back to me as he chooses his next words carefully. “She disappeared twenty-eight years ago along with her mate. Some say they were killed. Others believe they went into hiding to protect something...or someone.”
The implication hangs heavy in the air between us. My mouth goes dry.
“You think I'm her daughter.” It's not a question. The pieces are clicking into place with terrifying clarity.
“I think it's a possibility we need to consider.” Damien turns to face me.
“That's ridiculous. My parents were normal. Ordinary. They ran a hardware store in Eureka, for god's sake. They weren't...wolves on the run.”
“Did they ever talk about their past? Their families? Where they came from before Eureka?”
I open my mouth to argue, then close it again. The truth is, they didn't. My parents never talked about the past. Never mentioned grandparents, cousins, or family traditions. When I asked as a child, they'd deflect with gentle smiles and promises to tell me when I was older. A day that never came.
“They were protecting you,” Damien says, reading my expression. “If you are her daughter, your bloodline makes you the most valuable female in North America. Wars have been fought over less.”
My legs give out, and I sink onto the edge of his bed. The cashmere sweater suddenly feels suffocating against my skin. “I can barely manage my own life, let alone be some kind of...supernatural royalty.”
“Your wolf disagrees. She's not ordinary, Karina. Neither are you.”
Part of me wants to reject everything he's saying, to cling to the illusion of normalcy I've lived with for twenty-seven years. But the other part—the part that's always felt different, always struggled to contain something wild beneath my skin—recognizes the truth in his words.
Damien kneels before me, his imposing form somehow making the gesture more powerful than submissive. His hands engulf mine, warm and steady.
“If what you're saying is true...” my voice cracks, “then my entire life has been a lie.”
“Not a lie,” Damien says, his thumb tracing circles on my palm. “A protection. Your parents loved you enough to give up everything—their pack, their status, their very identities—to keep you safe.”
Tears sting hot, threatening to spill. “And now they're gone, and I have no idea who I really am.”
“You're still Karina,” he says firmly. “Nothing changes that. But you're also something more.”
“Will you tell your father about who my mother might be?”
Damien's expression hardens. “I have to. We need his protection, and he needs to understand exactly what we're dealing with.”
He rises from his kneeling position, towering over me again as he sits beside me on the bed.
The mattress dips under his weight, causing me to lean slightly into him.
“There’s more that you should know. Lockhart has been tracking you.
When I got to the warehouse, Lockhart's people were waiting. They knew intimate details about your life, your routine.” His jaw clenches.
“They've been watching you, Karina. Long before you and I ever met.”
I stare at Damien, his words knocking the air from my lungs. “Months? Before we met? But why? What does he want with me?”
“Elena's bloodline carries something unique—the potential to birth female alphas. In our world, that's the equivalent of having a nuclear weapon.”
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the cashmere sweater. “So, he wants to...what? Breed me?”
Damien's growl is so deep I feel it vibrate through the mattress. “He wants to control your bloodline. Any children you bear would strengthen his pack beyond imagination. He'd rise from a third-rate alpha to the most powerful wolf on the West Coast overnight.”
The word “children” hits me like a punch to the gut.
I hadn't even considered that part of the equation—that this isn't just about me, but about what my body could potentially create.
The thought of Lockhart or anyone else viewing me as nothing more than a breeding vessel makes bile rise in my throat.
“I will never let that happen, kitten.”
I'm about to respond when a sharp knock cuts through our conversation.
Damien's head snaps toward the door, his entire demeanor shifting instantly from intimate to guarded. “That'll be Gabriel. My father's running out of patience.”
“I'm not ready for this.”
Damien crosses to me in two strides, tilting my chin up with gentle fingers that belie his strength. “You were born ready for this. You just didn't know it.”
The knock comes again, more insistent this time.
“Enter,” Damien calls, his hand finding the small of my back as the door swings open.
Gabriel stands in the doorway, his expression carefully neutral. “Alpha Hudson requests your presence. Immediately.”
“We're coming.”
I follow them through the sprawling mansion, trying to memorize the route as we wind through corridors adorned with artwork that probably costs more than my entire life.
Gabriel leads us to the end of a long hallway where double doors loom before us.
He knocks once, then pushes them open without waiting for a response.
I hesitate at the threshold, my heart hammering against my ribs. Damien's hand presses gently against my lower back, urging me forward.
“Breathe,” he whispers. “Remember who you are.”
The problem is, I'm no longer sure who that is.
I step into the study, and my breath catches. The room is expansive, lined with bookshelves that stretch from floor to ceiling. A fire crackles in a stone hearth large enough to roast a small animal. But it's not the opulence that freezes me in place, it's the three figures waiting for us.
In the study, sits his father behind the desk.
Alpha Hudson Marek is exactly what I'd expect from the father of a man like Damien—broad-shouldered and imposing even while seated, with gray streaks threading through dark hair that's identical to his son's.
His eyes, though, are a piercing blue that seems to cut right through me.
Beside him stands a woman who must be Damien's mother, Helena.
She's stunning in a cold, untouchable way—elegantly dressed in what looks like designer clothes, her dark hair swept into a perfect updo without a strand out of place.
Her hand rests possessively on her husband's shoulder, and I catch a flash of diamond and platinum on her ring finger that could probably pay off my car and the damages to my apartment.
And then there’s his sister, Bella. Younger than Damien by several years but carrying the same fierce presence.
Her attention flicks between her brother and me with open curiosity.
She’s beautiful in a wild way her mother isn’t—less polished, more untamed.
The resemblance to Damien is immediate in the cut of her jaw and the force of her presence.
“Care to explain to me why you’re here, Damien,” Hudson growls. He doesn’t rise from his seat. “You’re exiled.” His focus shifts to me, and I fight the urge to step back. The way he studies me is clinical, assessing, like I’m a horse at auction. “Who is this female?”
“This is Karina,” Damien says, his hand pressing more firmly against the small of my back. “My mate.”
Helena’s gasp cuts through the silence, her hand flying to her throat. “You bonded without your father’s approval?”