Abducted

(Clara's POV)

I knew the weight of that notebook.

Damien had inherited it from his father—the pack's silver mine locations, the Elder Council's cipher codes, the rotation passwords for the northern defense line. All of it in one palm-sized leather journal. In the entire Black Moon Pack, no one besides Damien himself had ever touched that notebook.

Except me.

Two years ago, I'd accidentally lost it during a blizzard. I went insane, crawling through the snow inch by inch.

My fingers went numb. My knees cracked against ice until they bled. I called Damien sobbing: "I'll find it. I swear I'll find it."

He could have sent someone. He could have screamed at me and dispatched a search team. But he didn't.

He walked two miles through the blizzard alone, found me, and crawled through the snow beside me all night. Just before dawn, he discovered the notebook wedged beneath a dead tree root. He handed it back to me without a word.

It was the one thing he'd only ever entrust to family.

And now I was offering to give it back.

Damien's face twisted. He locked his jaw and ground out my name: "Clara. Say that again."

I didn't understand why he was this furious.

For three years, I'd believed he saw me as nothing more than a useful tool—a subordinate who handled dirty work, a body he could summon to his bed whenever he pleased.

But his reaction right now was giving me that dangerous illusion again: Did he actually have feelings for me? Did he actually care?

The instant that absurd hope flickered to life, my gaze dropped to his clenched right fist. He was wearing a ruby engagement ring.

And just like that, clarity cut through everything. He wasn't mine. He'd made his choice.

"I said I don't need the notebook anymore." I met his furious gaze head-on. "From today on, whoever wants it can have it."

"Clara!" Damien roared, surging toward me.

"Did I do something wrong?" Wendy appeared behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist, burying her face against his back, her voice thick with hurt. "Clara, I know you've done a lot for the pack over these three years. But you're still just an Omega. Damien—am I really not entitled to more than an Omega? As your future Luna?"

Damien's body went rigid.

I didn't wait for his answer. I turned and pushed through the door.

I'd barely turned into the narrow alley beside the building when two large men in black masks lunged from a blind spot.

My reflexes kicked in—right elbow snapping backward, driving into the man's ribs. A muffled grunt. His grip loosened for half a second.

The next second, a silver chain whipped out and coiled around my right wrist.

The moment it touched my skin, every ounce of strength drained from my body as if yanked out by an invisible hand.

Silver—a werewolf's bane. Even an elite warrior was powerless against it.

The two masked men dragged me deeper into the alley.

"Don't bother struggling."

A figure stepped out of the darkness.

Silas.

Damien's uncle. He'd plotted against Damien multiple times, trying to seize the Alpha title. After failing, he'd been stripped of all positions and faced exile. I'd seen him at Elder Council meetings.

"Talk." Silas crouched down, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and wrenched the searing silver chain tight against my throat. "Where did Damien hide the classified leather notebook?"

The silver burned through the skin of my neck. My airway was being crushed.

Forced to tilt my head back, I stared into his murderous eyes and let out a cold, mocking laugh. "He never once treated me like one of his own. Why would I know his secrets?"

"Tough girl." Silas sneered and dialed Damien's number.

Three rings. Someone picked up. But it was Wendy's voice.

"Hello? Who is this?"

Silas grinned. "It's Silas. Put Damien on. Tell him I've got his precious little darling."

Silas glanced at me, then held the phone near my face. I clenched my jaw and spoke: "Wendy. Hand the phone to Damien."

A beat of silence. Then Wendy let out a theatrical shriek: "Clara?! Why are you with Silas?! What are you doing?"

I fought through the agony in my throat and shouted: "Shut up! Give the phone to Damien!"

"No!" Wendy's voice quivered, thick with fake tears. "I won't let you hurt Damien! If you want to hurt someone, hurt me instead! Damien is the Alpha, you can't—"

"Shut the fuck up!" I screamed. The silver chain bit deeper as I thrashed, the skin on my wrist smoking and blistering. The pain nearly made me shatter my own teeth, but I was past caring.

"Clara."

Suddenly—Damien's voice. Cold. Loaded with warning. "Watch yourself. She's your future Luna. You have no right to speak to her that way."

I stopped struggling. A crushing ache radiated from the center of my chest.

Right. What did it matter that I was his true mate? A bond without love was nothing.

Silas watched my face go white, then barked a laugh into the phone: "Cut the act, Damien! I've got your mate—your true mate. Hand over the pack's secrets, or else."

On the other end, Wendy's sharp gasp: "What... true mate? Clara is your—? Damien, why didn't you tell me?"

Then her voice shifted to something impossibly gentle and selfless: "Damien... if that's the case, she's been by your side all these years. Go save her. I'll be fine here alone..."

A pause. Then Damien's gentle voice came through. “Don't overthink it. There's nothing between me and a slave. I didn't mention it because the ceremony is coming up — I didn't want you distracted by something that doesn't matter.”

Wendy's soft, reassured little hum. Then his tone dropped. "Uncle Silas. She's just an Omega slave. Do whatever you want with her."

The line went dead.

Silas's hand was still on my throat, but I couldn't hear anything. The only sound was that sentence ricocheting through my skull: She’s just an Omega slave.

Silas's grin froze. He gaped at the phone in disbelief, then hurled it to the ground, shattering it.

"Well, since Damien doesn't want you—" He drew a dagger from his belt. "—I won't hold back."

He raised the silver blade.