CHAPTER FIFTEEN
RAVEN
My legs are unsteady as he finally lets me down, my body still buzzing from the way he claimed me. I try to breathe, but the air feels thick and suffocating, and I can’t quite wrap my head around what just happened. Again.
Damien doesn’t move far—just enough to pull his shirt back down, wiping the sweat from his forehead. His eyes never leave me, watching with that dark, possessive glint, like he’s making sure I don’t run again.
I swallow hard, my mind racing. I need to get out of here. I can’t keep letting him do this—twist me up until I don’t know where fear ends and desire begins.
I glance to the side. The alley still empty, shadows stretching out in every direction. My heartbeat picks up again, and I know he notices, his smirk widening.
“Thinking of running again?” he taunts, cocking his head. “Go ahead. It just makes it more fun for me.”
I don’t respond. My body is too exhausted, too wrung out to make sense of the mess in my head. I wipe at my mouth, still tasting him there, and I hate the way my lips tingle from the bruising kisses.
He steps closer, his hand sliding up my neck, forcing me to look at him.
“You know you won’t get far,” he whispers, his thumb brushing over the bruise on my jaw. “I’ll drag you right back.”
I can’t help the way my hands shake, even though I try to hide it. He notices, of course, and his smirk softens into something almost affectionate. “Why do you keep fighting me?” he murmurs, leaning down to brush his lips over mine. “You already know how this ends.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the way his touch makes my skin burn. “I hate you,” I whisper, but the words sound weak, hollow.
He chuckles, low and rough. “No, you don’t,” he whispers back, his mouth tracing my jaw. “You hate that you can’t hate me. You hate that you keep coming back for more.”
My throat tightens, and I shove at his chest, but he barely moves, just grabs my wrists, pinning them to my sides.
“You’re a liar,” he whispers, his lips brushing over my temple. “You pretend to be afraid, but your body tells me the truth. You love being hunted. You love knowing I’m the one who’s going to catch you.”
My pulse pounds in my ears, and I try to turn my head away, but he doesn’t let me, his grip unrelenting.
“You’re mine, Raven,” he repeats, his voice dropping lower. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”
I force myself to take a steadying breath, trying to gather what little resolve I have left. I need to get out of here. I need to put distance between us before I completely lose myself.
“Let me go,” I whisper, and he just laughs, a dark, inaudible sound that makes my stomach twist.
“Not a chance,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing over my lips. “You keep trying to slip away, but you’ll always end up right here—under me, begging for more.”
I grit my teeth, summoning a spark of anger through the haze of confusion. “I’ll never beg you for anything,” I snap.
He raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Is that so?” he taunts. “Last night, you were screaming my name like I was the only thing keeping you alive.”
Heat floods my face, and I look away, hating how right he is. He leans in, pressing his forehead to mine, his breath hot on my lips.
“You don’t get it yet,” he whispers, his voice almost gentle. “I’m not the bad guy here. I’m just the one who finally gave you what you needed.”
I shake my head, trying to deny it, but he just presses his mouth to mine, slow and consuming, dragging a low whimper from my throat. My mind screams to fight, but my body melts into him, craving the intensity, the way he makes everything else fade away.
He pulls back, brushing his fingers through my hair, his eyes softer now but still burning with that dark, possessive need.
“You can keep pretending to hate me,” he murmurs. “But I know better. You’re mine, Raven. You’ll always be mine.”
My chest heaves, and I hate how much I want to believe him—how much I want to give in and let him claim me all over again. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep letting him tangle me up in his web.
I swallow hard, trying to find the strength to push him away, but he just leans in closer, his hands cupping my face.
“You’re never getting away from me,” he promises, his voice a dark caress. “Because even when you run, you know I’ll always find you. You need me to find you. You need me to drag you back.”
Tears prick my eyes, and I hate that he’s right. I hate that I’m too weak to fight back when he looks at me like that—like I’m the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
He wipes the tear that slips free with his thumb, his touch almost tender. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, kissing my forehead. “You’re safe with me. I’ll never let anyone else touch you. Never let anyone else break you. That’s my right.”
I shiver, and he pulls me into his arms, wrapping me up like he’s shielding me from the world. His hand strokes my hair, and for a moment, I almost believe that he means it—that I’m safe with him.
But deep down, I know the truth.
I’m not safe. Not with him.
And not with myself for wanting him so badly.
Damien’s arms wrap around me like steel bands, and I feel trapped, caged in by his heat, his scent, his unyielding grip. I want to fight, to scream, to claw my way free, but I’m frozen. Not just by fear—by something darker, something that coils around my insides and knots me to him.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his hand sliding up to cup the back of my neck, his thumb stroking my jaw. His eyes soften, but there’s still that dangerous glint, like he’s holding back the part of himself that wants to tear me apart.
“You’re thinking too much again,” he murmurs, brushing his lips over my forehead. “I can practically see it. Trying to figure out how to escape. You’d be smarter to just give in.”
I swallow hard, my pulse still racing, and he smirks, knowing exactly what I’m thinking. He leans down, nipping at my lower lip, dragging his teeth over the bite until I gasp.
“Still pretending to hate me?” he taunts, his fingers tangling in my hair. “Even after everything I did to you last night? After you begged me to ruin you?”
My cheeks burn, and I hate that he’s right. I hate that my body still aches for him, even as my mind rebels. He moves closer, his hands sliding down to my waist, fingers tracing the curve of my hips.
“You’re mine, Raven,” he whispers, his voice low and rough. “I won’t let you forget it. I won’t let you pretend you don’t crave it.”
I force myself to take a breath, trying to gather my thoughts, but his hands are relentless, pulling me closer, his mouth brushing over my jaw, down to my throat. His teeth scrape over my pulse, and I can’t help the shiver that runs through me.
“I should mark you again,” he growls, biting down just hard enough to make me gasp. “Cover every inch of your skin so no one even thinks about touching you.”
His fingers slip under my shirt, pushing it up, and I try to shove him back, but he just catches my hands, pinning them behind me, pressing me against his chest.
“Stop fighting,” he hisses, his mouth hot against my ear. “You’re only making me want to break you all over again.”
I choke on a breath, trying to squirm free, but he tightens his hold, his other hand moving to grip my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“You don’t get to act like this didn’t happen,” he whispers, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t get to act like you didn’t want it.”
My throat tightens, and I try to shake my head, but he doesn’t let me. His lips brush mine, soft and taunting, and I hate the way I lean into it, craving the way he makes me feel—like I’m teetering on the edge of something dangerous and irresistible.
He pushes me back against the wall again, his hands gripping my wrists, pinning them above my head. His body presses into mine, and I feel the hard line of his arousal digging into my stomach.
“You keep acting like you’re scared of me,” he murmurs, his tongue flicking over my bruised lip. “But I know better. You’re scared of yourself. Scared of how much you liked it.”
I swallow, my mouth too dry to speak. His hand slides down, cupping my jaw, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Say it,” he demands. “Admit that you wanted it. That you want it now.”
My heart thunders, and I shake my head, biting back the words. His eyes darken, and he leans in, his lips brushing over mine with deceptive gentleness. “You’re mine,” he growls, his voice rough and desperate. “And I’m not letting you forget it. No matter how many times you run.”
His hand slips down to my waist, his fingers digging into my skin, and I feel the heat pooling low in my belly despite myself. He moves his mouth to my throat, kissing and biting, his hands tracing the lines of my body as if he’s trying to memorise every inch.
“You can run as far as you want,” he whispers, his teeth grazing my collarbone. “I’ll always find you. I’ll always drag you back. Because you belong right here, with me.”
I hate how his words twist around my thoughts, making my resolve slip. He presses his lips to mine again, slow and consuming, and I can’t help the way I respond, my body arching into his touch.
His hand slips between my thighs, pressing against the heat there, and I gasp, my mind spinning.
“You’re not getting away,” he growls. “Not now. Not ever.”
I feel trapped—physically and mentally—caught between the need to escape and the twisted desire to stay. He knows it. I can see it in the way his smirk softens into something darker, more dangerous.
“I’ll never stop,” he whispers, his hand sliding under my waistband. “You keep pushing me, trying to make me let go, but it just makes me want to dig my claws in deeper.”
He cups me, fingers pressing just enough to make my knees go weak, and I hate the way I lean into him, craving more. He watches me with that feral intensity, like he’s daring me to deny it.
“I’ll remind you every single day,” he whispers, his mouth tracing over my collarbone. “That you’re mine. That no one else gets to have you. You’ll never be free, Raven. Never.”
He doesn’t give me time to think.
Damien’s grip tightens as he hoists me off the wall and carries me deeper into the shadows, into a boarded-up shop tucked behind the alley. A rusted door slams behind us, and it echoes like a threat.
The space is dark—windowless. Empty shelves line the cracked walls. A single bare lightbulb flickers overhead, casting him in a sick, golden glow that makes the shadows beneath his cheekbones even sharper.
He throws the lock with a sharp click. I flinch.
“We’re done pretending,” he mutters, pressing me against the dust-covered counter. His breath is warm on my neck; his voice too calm. Too steady. That’s when he’s most dangerous—when he stops raising his voice.
“You think I don’t see it? The way you look at me. Like you hate that you want me.”
His hand slides up under my shirt—slow, deliberate, like he wants me to feel every inch of his fingers as they climb my ribs.
“You think if you run far enough, the craving stops?” His mouth brushes the curve of my jaw. “It won’t. You’re already mine.”
I want to deny him. I should but then his hand slides down, and I stop breathing.
His fingers slip beneath the waistband of my sweatpants, and I’m not proud of the way my hips twitch forward. I’m not proud of the way my thighs part for him like a reflex.
“You keep telling yourself it’s just survival.” His fingers drag through my soaking wet pussy and back again, slow and calculated. “But you came for me last night like your body had been waiting your entire life to be ruined by me.”
I bite my lip hard.
He lowers his mouth to mine, tongue tracing the seam, and when I gasp, he devours me—hungry, starved, like he’s afraid I’ll vanish mid-kiss.
I hate that I kissed him back. Hate it more that I need him to kiss me harder.
He pulls back only to whisper, low and threatening,
“Tell me who you belong to.”
I shake my head. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
His fingers respond for me—slipping inside, knuckles deep—and my traitorous mouth falls open.
“Say it,” he snarls. “Say. It.”
I almost do.
I’m seconds from unravelling completely when—A loud vibrating buzz echoes from the shadows.
Damien goes still.
The phone in his back pocket hums again, and his jaw tightens. He doesn’t move at first—just exhales slowly through his nose, as if something told him not to ignore it. With a reluctant grunt, he slips his hand from me—leaving me cold, breathless, aching—and answers.
I watch his face.
It shifts.
Whatever voice is on the other end makes him freeze, eyes locking on mine with something deeper than possession. Panic? No—rage.
He doesn’t say a word. Just ends the call and shoves the phone into his pocket like it’s burned him.
I try to speak, but he grabs my face with both hands.
“Who the fuck is Noah?”
The question lands like a blade.
“What?” I breathe.
He blinks once. The calm before the carnage.
“Don’t lie to me.” His grip tightens. “There’s only one reason your old landlord just texted me a video of you hugging a man named Noah outside your apartment. And it’s either a threat…” his thumb drags down my cheek, slowly, like he’s dragging the truth out of my skin—“or you’ve been lying to me.”
I try to move. He pins me back.
“You’ve been watched, Raven. Every day. Every second. Every street camera. Every blind fucking corner. I let you think you were free, so you’d reveal your patterns. And now you’ve been seen with him?”
My voice is a whisper. “He’s just my brother.”
The air stills.
His eyes widen—but not with understanding.
With betrayal.
Then he laughs.
One harsh, empty sound. He steps back. Paces. With one hand in his hair, the other fisted at his side.
“That’s not in the file.” His voice cracks.
“What file?”
He whips around, eyes hollow.
“The one I paid a fucking fortune for. The one I built your world on. The one who told me everything about you. Every nightmare. Every scar. Every ex. And not once did it mention a brother?”
I take a shaky step back.
And he lets me.
That’s what scares me because Damien never lets go.
Until he wants to make you run.
“I don’t believe you,” he says quietly. “But I’m going to find out.”
I open my mouth to argue, to explain, to scream—but he grabs me again and crushes his mouth to mine.
It’s not gentle. It’s not even angry.
It’s devastated and as he pulls away, his voice is calm again. Chilling.
“If he touches you again, I’ll cut off his hands.”
He licks the blood from my lip where his kiss split it open.
“And if you lied to me… if you made me love a version of you that doesn’t exist…” His smile is razor-sharp. “I’ll remind you why you were better off never being found.”