Chapter 3
Damon
I opened my eyes. First thought? Thank God that nightmare's finally over.
Sunlight knifed through a gap in the heavy velvet drapes, throwing a harsh gold stripe across the carpet.
My head felt like someone had taken a blunt object to it—temples throbbing.
How much did I drink last night? Three glasses?
Five? The whole damn bottle? I couldn't remember.
All I remembered was that irresistible pull, those wet, desperate eyes when she burst into my room, the way my wolf went absolutely feral and broke through my control, lunging at her.
Shit.
My wolf rolled under my skin like a python that just ate its fill, lazily burping with satisfaction.
I cursed it mentally.
It didn't listen. It even stretched, tail swishing in the depths of my consciousness.
We marked her. She reeks of us. Stop pretending you didn't love it.
I jerked upright. The sheets slid off my bare chest. My muscles protested with soreness—especially my lower back and inner thighs. That post-exertion ache. The kind every man knows.
I looked down beside me and realized this wasn't a nightmare. I'd actually slept with Sera. I'd betrayed my fiancée.
Sera was curled up next to me like a wounded animal.
Hair spilled messily across the pillow, hiding her face.
The thin blanket had slipped to her waist, exposing her bare shoulders and spine.
Her skin was covered in red marks—my bite marks, my fingerprints, and those goddamn bruises that broadcast exactly how out of control I'd been last night.
My wolf rumbled beneath my skin, satisfied as a cat with cream.
I cursed it again.
It didn't listen. Just kept preening like some asshole who'd won a fight. I could feel it wanting me to touch her again, wanting me to bury my face in her neck and inhale more of that damned wild rose scent.
I controlled myself. Yanked myself out of bed with movements rough enough to make the bedframe creak in protest. Sera stirred, let out a muddled murmur, but didn't wake. I stood beside the bed, looking down at her.
She looked so fragile. So... innocent.
But she wasn't.
She was anything but innocent.
Memories pieced themselves together like shards. She'd burst into my room reeking of pheromones—that drug-induced smell thick enough any adult wolf could identify. She'd thrown herself at me like a starving she-wolf, looked at me with those desperate eyes like I was her only salvation.
Then I lost control. Just like my father.
Nausea hit me like a wave. I almost threw up on the spot.
"Damon?" A timid, sleep-roughened voice came from behind me.
I didn't turn around. Just grabbed a towel and roughly wiped my face, voice cold as Siberian permafrost. "Get out. Clean yourself up. Don't make me say it twice."
"Let me explain, I—"
Then came a soft knock at the door, followed by Lillian's familiar, comforting voice. "Damon? Are you awake? I brought you breakfast. You drank too much last night. You must eat something."
Lillian.
My heart seized. Damn it. Not now.
"Damon?" A hint of confusion crept into Lillian's voice as she tried the door—I hadn't locked it. The door opened. Lillian stood in the doorway with a tray, the smile on her face freezing, then shattering, when she saw Sera in the bed.
The tray crashed to the floor. Delicate porcelain shattered. Hot coffee splashed everywhere, looking exactly like the blood draining from Lillian's face.
"No, no..." She shook her head, tears instantly flooding her eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes filled with broken heartache. "How could... Damon, how could you..."
She didn't finish. Just covered her mouth, letting out suppressed, heartbroken sobs.
In that moment, I panicked. Not because I'd slept with Sera, but because I'd hurt Lillian. Lillian was different. She was my ally, my carefully chosen future partner. She was refined, well-bred, perfectly matched. She'd never use cheap tricks to trap me.
I strode toward her, completely ignoring whatever shocked or wounded look Sera might have had behind me. "Lillian, listen. This was a mistake. A goddamn mistake that needs to be forgotten."
I reached out to touch her shoulder, but she jerked back like I was contagious.
"A mistake?" She looked up with tear-blurred eyes, voice trembling. "Damon, she's your fated mate... I know the bond is hard to resist. I don't blame you. I'd even give up my position as your fiancée if it meant you wouldn't suffer from the bond."
I glanced at Sera on the bed. She'd sat up, clutching the blanket tightly around herself, face pale as she watched us. Seeing me look over, she opened her mouth like she wanted to explain. "Damon, last night was—"
"Shut up!" I cut her off without turning, voice dripping with disgust. "Don't play the victim. You're just like your mother—willing to do anything to get what you want. You make me sick."
Sera's face went white as paper, the light in her eyes snuffing out like a candle. But I didn't have time to care if she lived or died. Right now, I just wanted to soothe Lillian and repair this precarious relationship.
"Lillian, look at me." I lowered my voice, trying to soften my tone.
"That was just the drugs. The bond acting up.
That wasn't me. You're my fiancée. That will never change.
I'll have the pack's healer develop a drug to suppress the bond immediately.
Once I take it, this goddamn attraction will disappear. I promise you."
Lillian finally looked up, eyes red-rimmed like a rain-soaked rabbit. "Really? You won't leave me... for her... for your fated mate..."
"Never." I said it like an executioner's blade, each word pulled from an ice cellar. "She doesn't even have Moonbane. How could that kind of waste be worthy of being Blackwood's lady? She's just like her mother—a conniving snake. I can only feel disgust for her."
I felt Sera's body trembling slightly, but I deliberately didn't look at her. The disgust actually gave me a twisted satisfaction—punishment for her scheming last night.
"Damon, I didn't." Her eyes met mine again. Finally finding a chance to defend herself, she suddenly stood up. The blanket slipped, exposing her slender waist.
I closed my eyes, not wanting to admit how much this body attracted me.
"Shut up." My voice came out colder than I'd intended. "Put some clothes on. You look like a whore."
She froze like she'd been slapped.
My wolf roared beneath my skin.
What are you doing? She's our mate!
I answered it coldly in my mind.
She's just a bitch who drugged me.
Lillian pulled away from my embrace, dabbing at her tears with a handkerchief. She took a deep breath, trying to regain that elegant composure. She turned to face Sera, a gentle, proper smile returning to her face—though her eyes were still red.
"Miss Connelly," her voice was gentle as if coaxing a child, "I understand your situation. I do. The mate bond must make you suffer terribly, make you desperate. But..."
She paused, her gaze sweeping over the marks on Sera's exposed skin—marks I'd made.
"To climb into Damon's bed like that, to seduce him with drugs... it's truly improper. Not something a well-bred girl would do."
"I didn't—" Sera started, voice urgent with the kind of anger and grievance that comes from being falsely accused. "I was drugged last night! It was Isabella. She forced me to drink 'Wolf's Kiss,' then she—"
"Enough!" I cut her off, not wanting to hear these pathetic excuses.
Everyone caught in the act makes excuses.
Before my mother died, my father's mistresses all said the same things—"I didn't poison her," "She was just sick," "Someone's framing me"—all bullshit.
"Sera, you're just like your mother," I spoke each word deliberately, like hammering nails into her. "Both nasty homewreckers. Isabella crawled into my father's bed the same way. Now you want to use the same playbook on me?"
Her face went deathly pale, like someone had drained every drop of blood from her body.
"I'm not a homewrecker!" She practically shouted it, eyes reddening. "I didn't tempt you! I never wanted to—"
"Then why were you in my room last night?" I sneered, advancing on her step by step, watching her instinctively shrink back. "Were you sleepwalking? Did you suddenly decide to take a midnight tour of the heir's bedroom?"
"I told you, Isabella drugged me!" Her voice trembled, but her eyes were steady, with an uncomfortable sincerity that almost looked genuine. "Damon, you have to believe me!"
I hesitated. But it was too convenient. And even if she had been drugged, so what? Isabella was her mother. She'd been defending Sera yesterday. They were clearly in it together.
Think about it—her timing was perfect. My father had just announced me as heir.
Isabella's son, Kevin, was still scrambling to find a mate with Moonbane magic, ready to replace me at any moment.
Then Sera suddenly appeared—a fated mate without Moonbane abilities, a ticking time bomb that would destroy all my plans.
This wasn't a coincidence. This was a conspiracy.
Isabella was ambitious. She wanted my half-brother Kevin to become the next Alpha. And the best way to do that? Destroy me. Make me marry a useless fated mate, strip me of my inheritance, humiliate me before the elder council.
Perfect plan.
And Sera was her best playing piece.
"You really think I'd believe that crap?
" I closed in on her, watching her cower on the bed, clutching the sheet.
A wave of nausea hit me. "You and Isabella planned this all along, didn't you?
Make me marry a useless fated mate so I lose my inheritance, then your half-brother can slide right into position. "
"What brother?" She stared wide-eyed, completely confused, like she'd genuinely never heard this before. "I don't have a brother! I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Stop the act!" I slammed my fist into the bedpost. The solid oak cracked with a splintering sound, wood chips flying. "Kevin! Isabella's son! Don't tell me you don't know!"
Genuine shock covered her face. So real I almost believed it.