Ava's POV The first thing I felt when my eyes fluttered open was pain. Not a sharp, searing agony, but a dull, persistent, throbbing ache deep in my body, a pervasive soreness that radiated through my core. My limbs felt heavy, weighed down by invisible stones, each muscle screaming in protest with the slightest movement. My throat was dry and raw, as if I had screamed for hours, though I couldn't remember doing so. I lay there for a few moments, staring blankly at the ornate ceiling, the gilded patterns swirling vaguely above me, trying to piece together where I was, why I felt like this, why my body felt alien and bruised. A cold dread began to seep into my consciousness, a premonition of something terrible. And then it came rushing back. The memories. A torrent of horrifying images and sensations, crashing over me like a tidal wave, drowning me in the aftermath of the night before. His voice, low and dangerous, dripping with contempt and ownership—"You think you belong to some
Damian's POV Last night had been different. It hadn't just been instinct, a base biological urge. It was something darker, something twisted and fueled by a depth of rage and humiliation I hadn't known I possessed. And I hadn’t realized just how far it would push me. How far I would push her. I stared at my hands. They still shook faintly, almost imperceptibly, as though echoing the violence of what they’d done, of what I had become. They were the instruments of her ruin. Was it because of what she’d said? The venomous words echoed in my skull. "He’s my life. I love him more than anything. Without him I can’t live." Those words. Her voice saying them, broken yet defiant. The thought of her loving someone else, thinking about someone else when she was mine—my mated omega, my wife—had made something in me snap. It had shattered the carefully constructed facade of my control, unleashing a beast I barely recognized. And I’d shown her, with every brutal thrust, every de
Damian's POV The morning light filtered weakly through the thick, velvet curtains, casting long, indifferent shadows across the opulent bedroom, a pale, silent witness to the wreckage of the night. It illuminated dust motes dancing in the air, seemingly oblivious to the devastation below. I sat at the very edge of the vast, ornate bed, shirtless, my hands resting heavily on my knees, staring at the polished hardwood floor without really seeing it. My gaze was fixed, unseeing, lost in the chaotic maelstrom of my thoughts. The room smelled of her—of us—a thick, heavy scent that clung to the air, to the lavish fabrics, to the very walls, and to my skin, an inescapable reminder of my brutal claim. The rich, cloying scent of mingled arousal, fear, and something else…something metallic and sharp. Behind me, she lay still, utterly quiet, a crumpled form beneath the disheveled sheets, her breath shallow and uneven, almost imperceptible. She was so small, so fragile, a stark contrast t
Damian's POV She bucked beneath me, a desperate, futile attempt to dislodge me, to escape my relentless advance, but I was unyielding, a crushing weight she could not escape. I settled between her thighs, my hands gripping her hips, my fingers digging into her flesh, holding her still. I leaned in, my breath hot and ragged against her most intimate place, the scent of her fear and her rising arousal mingling in the air, intoxicating me further. She tensed, her body coiling with a palpable mix of fear and an unwilling, traitorous desire. I looked up at her, my eyes locking with hers, burning into her soul, and I saw the exact moment she realized there was no escape, no reprieve. The dawning horror in her eyes was a dark, exhilarating triumph. I lowered my head, my tongue darting out to taste her, a single, deliberate stroke. She cried out, a sharp, choked sound, her body arching off the bed in a spasm of pure sensation and terror as I explored her folds, my tongue delving deep, tas
Damian's POV “D-dont....” she tried to protest again , her words cracking on a sob, a fragile, broken sound that only fueled my resolve. “Please, don’t—” “Oh, I can,” I hissed, my voice low and dangerous, a predatory purr that promised pain and domination. I grabbed the contract, her bond, her chains, from the nightstand, my fingers crushing the thick paper as I flipped to the page I’d shown her earlier, the damning clause. I shoved it in her face, forcing her gaze down onto the dense, legalistic words, the paper crinkling angrily between my fingers. “Read it again, little mate,” I barked, my voice laced with bitter satisfaction, with undeniable authority. “You signed it. You willingly, blindly, foolishly gave yourself to me—every inch of you, every second of you, whenever and however I want. And if you even think about fighting me, about denying me, you owe me everything back—with twenty percent interest. Plus, your brother loses all support, and I throw his worthless ass onto
Damian's POV I let the page fall from my hand, the heavy contract landing with a soft thud on the mattress, the damning words hanging in the air like a perfectly woven noose, tightening with every beat of her terrified heart. “Do you understand now, Ava?” I murmured, leaning in close, my breath hot against her face, so she could feel the venom in my every word, smell the intoxicating scent of my rage. “You signed yourself over to me. Every inch of your body, every moment of your time, every thought you have. Wherever, whenever—I decide. I don’t need your fucking permission. Not now. Not ever.” My voice was a low, dangerous growl, filled with triumph and contempt. Her lips parted, a silent gasp of horror, but no sound came out. Just a shuddering breath, a choked sob she tried desperately to swallow, her throat working convulsively. Her eyes, wide and unfocused, stared at the contract, then back at me, a silent scream trapped within them. “You didn’t even bother to read it, did