Chapter 23 Damon
TWENTY-THREE
DAMON
Three days had stretched into an eternity of strategic meetings, patrol schedules, and security briefings that should have felt like necessary leadership but instead felt like elaborate choreography designed to keep him away from the one person his dragon demanded he claim completely.
What had begun as legitimate Alpha duties—reinforcing perimeter defenses, coordinating with patrol teams, reassuring clan members about the travel restrictions—had morphed into something far more insidious.
Cowardice disguised as responsibility.
Damon stared at the tactical maps spread across his office desk, red markers indicating patrol routes that had been finalized hours ago.
The security measures were solid, his people were protected, and every contingency had been planned for twice over.
Yet here he sat, manufacturing reasons to avoid returning to his chambers where Isla’s scent still lingered on his sheets like a sweet torment.
The mate bond thrummed between them constantly now, a living thing that carried every nuance of her emotional state directly into his chest. Her confusion had given way to hurt, then disappointment, and now something that felt dangerously close to resignation.
Each shift in her feelings hit him like a slap, but still he couldn’t force himself to walk down the hall and face what he’d done.
She’s human. The thought circled his mind like a vulture. Fragile, breakable, completely unable to defend herself in a world where enemies could tear her apart with their bare hands.
His dragon snarled at the mental slight against their mate, but Damon ruthlessly suppressed the beast. Logic had to prevail here, even if it was killing him slowly.
An Alpha’s mate was always a target—leverage to be used, weakness to be exploited.
But a human mate? That elevated the danger exponentially.
If Veyrik discovered that Damon had claimed Isla... Veyrik wouldn’t hesitate to use her against him.
The heavy glass paperweight on his desk cracked under the pressure of his grip.
I should never have touched her.
But the memory of her soft skin, her breathless moans, the way she’d surrendered completely to him that night, sent heat racing through him even as self-recrimination followed close behind.
I should have never allowed her to come here in the first place.
But he had. And the worst part, he’d been selfish, desperate for connection after a century of isolation. He’d taken what she offered and given her hope for something he couldn’t deliver—a future where loving him wouldn’t eventually get her killed.
The office door opened without ceremony, and Kaelith strode in with easy confidence. His second’s usually cheerful expression was notably absent.
“Well, this is getting pathetic,” Kaelith announced, dropping into the chair across from Damon’s desk with deliberate casualness. “Even by your standards of avoidance.”
Damon didn’t look up. “I don’t know what you mean—”
“Cut the shit, Damon.” The sharp edge in Kaelith’s voice made Damon’s head snap up. “When’s the last time you actually spoke to Isla? And I don’t mean sending messages through other people.”
Heat flared behind Damon’s ribs, part anger and part something that felt uncomfortably like shame. “I’ve been busy ensuring our territory remains secure. You know, Alpha duties? The kind that actually matter?”
“Right.” Kaelith’s laugh held zero humor. “Because reorganizing supply schedules for the third time definitely couldn’t wait another day. And I’m sure reviewing the same patrol reports over and over again is absolutely critical to our survival.”
“Veyrik could attack at any moment—”
“Veyrik could have attacked two days ago if he was going to. We both know he’s playing a longer game than immediate retaliation.” Kaelith leaned forward, his blue eyes intense. “This isn’t about clan security, and we both know it. This is about you being too scared to face your own mate.”
Damon’s control cracked enough for his eyes to flash that dangerous molten green. “Watch yourself.”
“Or what? You’ll avoid me too?” Kaelith’s voice turned mocking. “Face it, Damon. You’re running scared from a five-foot-six bookstore owner who makes you feel things you don’t know how to handle.”
Because she makes me feel everything.
The thought blazed through his mind with painful clarity. Fear, desire, protectiveness so fierce it bordered on violence, and underneath it all, a love so consuming it terrified him more than any enemy ever could.
“She’s been asking about you,” Kaelith continued, his tone gentling slightly.
“Every day. Wondering if you’re alright, if something happened, why you won’t even acknowledge her existence.
I’ve been covering for you, making excuses about urgent Alpha business, but she’s not stupid, Damon.
She’s starting to realize you’re deliberately avoiding her. ”
The mate bond pulsed with Isla’s latest emotional shift—a complex mixture of longing and growing resolve that made his chest tighten painfully. She was planning something. He could feel her decision crystallizing, her patience finally reaching its limit.
“Maybe that’s for the best,” he said quietly. “Any sensible woman would have left by now.”
“Any sensible woman wouldn’t want to be your fated mate.” Kaelith’s voice turned sharp again. “Did you ever consider that the bond is keeping her here? That she actually cares about your stubborn, emotionally constipated ass?”
She cared too much, and that was the problem. Through the bond, he felt her desire to understand him, to help him, to build something beautiful together. But she had no idea that loving him was a death sentence waiting to be carried out.
“I need her to leave,” Damon said finally. “Before Veyrik figures out what she means to me. Before someone uses her to destroy everything.”
“Well, you should at least talk to her first. Tell her your fears instead of acting like she doesn’t exist.” Kaelith’s frustration bled through every word. “Explain why you’re terrified instead of making her think she did something wrong.”
I don’t know how without breaking everything.
The thought whispered through his mind with devastating honesty. How could he explain that every moment she remained in his life increased the chances of her death? That his love for her was the very thing that could eventually destroy her?
“You think I haven’t considered that?” Damon’s voice turned rough with emotion he couldn’t quite suppress. “You think I don’t want to figure this out? Every instinct I have is screaming at me to claim her completely, to never let her out of my sight. But those same instincts could get her killed.”
“So what, you’re either going to have her leave because she can’t stand being ignored anymore or you’re going to keep her locked up in the estate forever?” Kaelith challenged. “Because either option sounds pretty terrible.”
The words hit their target with brutal accuracy. Damon had spent three days creating exactly that scenario, and it made him sick. Isla deserved attention, freedom, adventure, a life filled with the joy and warmth that radiated from her like sunlight.
“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, the confession torn from somewhere deep in his chest.
“Then figure it out together,” Kaelith said simply. “Stop being a coward and actually talk to her. Maybe she’s stronger than you think. Maybe love is worth the risk.”