Chapter 2 i
Damon paced his private quarters, his fists clenching and unclenching as his mind raced. The rogue attack wasn’t random. The scout had been sent for a reason, but what? And why now? The tension in his body was unbearable, a storm raging inside him that he couldn’t quiet.
It wasn’t just the rogue that haunted him. It was her. Lila.
Even as he tried to push her from his thoughts, the memory of her trembling form refused to leave him. She had looked at him with those wide, frightened eyes, her vulnerability cutting through his carefully constructed walls. He hated it. Hated how she made him feel things he didn’t want to feel.
The room felt stifling, so he pushed open the window, letting the cool night air wash over him. The forest stretched out before him, dark and silent under the pale glow of the moon. The sight stirred something deep inside him, something he had tried to bury for years.
The memory came unbidden, sharp and vivid. He was seventeen, standing in the same forest, but it had been alive with the sounds of spring. His best friend, Elias, was at his side, laughing as they chased each other through the trees in their wolf forms.
“Come on, Damon,” Elias had said, shifting back into his human form as he leaned against a tree. His sandy hair was tousled, and his grin was infectious. “You’re supposed to be the future Alpha, and I’m still faster than you.”
Damon, still in wolf form, growled playfully before shifting back as well. “I let you win,” he said, smirking.
Elias rolled his eyes. “Sure you did.”
They had always been inseparable, their bond forged through years of shared adventures and mischief. Elias had been more than a friend—he had been family, someone Damon trusted with everything.
But that bond was tested during the rogue attack.
It had started with small incursions, isolated wolves testing the pack’s borders. The elders dismissed them as nothing more than nuisances, but Damon and Elias had known better. They had seen the signs, the calculated way the rogues moved.
The night it all fell apart was burned into Damon’s memory. The air had been thick with the scent of blood and smoke, the howls of wolves echoing through the night. Damon and Elias had been on patrol when they were ambushed.
The rogues came out of nowhere, their eyes glinting with malice as they descended upon the two friends. Damon had fought with everything he had, his wolf tearing through the enemy with a ferocity he hadn’t known he possessed.
But there had been too many of them.
He remembered the moment Elias fell, a rogue’s claws slicing through his side. Damon had screamed, his wolf surging forward to protect his friend, but it had been too late. Blood stained the forest floor as Elias gasped for breath, his hand clutching Damon’s arm.
“Don’t stop,” Elias had said, his voice weak but resolute. “You have to keep fighting. For the pack.”
Damon had fought until the rogues retreated, but by the time the battle was over, Elias was gone. His best friend, his brother in all but blood, had died in his arms.
The pack mourned, but Damon had buried his grief beneath a mask of cold determination. He had vowed never to let anyone get that close to him again. Attachments were a weakness, and he couldn’t afford to be weak.
The sound of footsteps outside his door pulled Damon back to the present. His jaw tightened as he turned away from the window, his hands curling into fists.
The door opened without a knock, and Lila stepped inside. She hesitated when she saw him, her brows knitting together in concern.
“I knocked,” she said softly. “You didn’t answer.”
“I didn’t invite you in,” he replied coldly, his voice like ice.
She flinched, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she crossed the room, her gaze steady despite the tension in her posture. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Damon folded his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable. “What is it?”
Lila took a deep breath, as if steeling herself. “I know you don’t want me here. I know this… arrangement isn’t what you wanted. But I’m part of this pack now, whether you like it or not. And I deserve to know what’s going on.”
“There’s nothing for you to know,” Damon said sharply.
She stepped closer, her voice softening but losing none of its resolve. “You’re lying. The rogues didn’t attack by chance, did they?”
Damon’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his face. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then tell me,” she insisted. “Because if I’m going to live here, if I’m going to be your… your wife, I need to understand what’s happening.”
Her words struck a nerve, and Damon’s wolf growled low in his chest. He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “You want to understand, Lila?” he said, his voice dangerously quiet. “You want to know what it’s like to carry the weight of an entire pack on your shoulders? To watch the people you care about die because you weren’t strong enough to protect them?”
She met his gaze, her own eyes shining with determination. “Yes. I do. Because you’re not the only one who’s lost people, Damon. And maybe if you let someone in, you wouldn’t have to carry that weight alone.”
Her words cut deeper than he expected, but he quickly masked his reaction. He couldn’t let her in. He couldn’t let anyone in.
“Go to bed, Lila,” he said coldly. “This conversation is over.”
But as she turned to leave, he caught the faint scent of her—lavender and something uniquely hers—and it stirred something in him he couldn’t ignore. He clenched his fists, his wolf restless and agitated.
When the door closed behind her, Damon sank into a chair, his head in his hands.
He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, not for her, not for anyone.