7

When I woke again, I found myself lying in the villa's bed.

Agonized howls came from the living room. I struggled out of bed and cracked the door open to see Damon standing in the center of the living room, with those rogue wolves bound by silver chains at his feet.

Damon held a silver knife in his hand, his voice cold as ice. "Which hand did you use to touch her?"

The rogue wolf trembled all over, too terrified to speak.

Damon sneered coldly. "Then it must have been both hands."

Without hesitation, he brought the knife down, the blade viciously piercing through the rogue wolf's palm. In werewolf tradition, severing wolf claws was a punishment second only to death, meaning permanent loss of hunting ability.

The werewolf let out a scream, blood instantly staining the floor red.

The remaining wolves were scared out of their wits, frantically shouting, "It was the left hand! It was the right hand!"

But Damon showed no mercy. One knife stroke per wolf, he disabled their hands, then threw them into the fire for punishment.

The guard team members stood to the side, watching him with complex expressions. "Alpha, is this really necessary? Wasn't this originally Lydia's plan that you agreed to?"

"Yeah, Lydia deliberately used Ashen Peaks Pack's distress signal to lure you away, giving you a reasonable excuse to leave. Then we found excuses to leave too, followed by sending a group of low-ranking wolves to assault Sage Rivers while she was alone in the herb area. There was no one in the hunting grounds then—she could cry to heaven and earth and no one would answer. If Garrett Rivers' most beloved sister was violated by a group of low-ranking wolves, he'd be devastated when he found out. Using this as leverage, he'd definitely never compete with you for Alpha King again, and it would severely punish Sage Rivers too. Why did you suddenly change your mind and rush back desperately, nearly beating these wolves to death? You haven't been this bloodthirsty in years. It's insane."

Hearing this, I felt like my whole body couldn't support itself, nearly collapsing.

I never imagined that even those low-ranking wolves were part of their plan.

No wonder Lydia had whispered with the guard team members, and then the members whispered with Damon...

Damon said nothing, just watched coldly as those wolves were dragged away.

The group of men looked at each other, their faces becoming even uglier.

Finally, someone couldn't help asking, "Alpha, you didn't actually fall for Sage Rivers, did you? If you forgot, let me remind you—she's your mortal enemy's sister! You and Garrett Rivers have been fighting for how many years now. If you actually fell for his sister, you'd be..."

Damon's expression instantly turned ugly. He violently kicked over the coffee table, his voice filled with suppressed fury.

"I don't like her! If I liked Garrett Rivers' sister, I'd cut off my head and let him use it as a football! Is that enough? Get out, all of you get out! Don't fucking bother me for the next few days!"

After driving everyone away, Damon poured himself a glass of whiskey and stood by the floor-to-ceiling window.

After a few drinks, his expression looked particularly gloomy.

He poured another glass and drank it in one gulp, feeling the cold alcohol burn down his throat into his stomach.

His mind was in chaos, constantly seeing images of Sage Rivers being pressed down by those disgusting men. Her despair, her pain—like a knife stabbing straight into his heart.

He didn't understand his emotions toward Sage Rivers. Initially approaching her was clearly just to get revenge on Garrett Rivers and find leverage to threaten him.

But why did seeing her treated that way make him want to kill someone in a murderous rage?

She shouldn't be like that.

Every time she lay beneath him, so good and soft, her eyes full of love, like a gentle little cat.

But that day, her eyes held only fear and despair.

He didn't dare think about it further, just felt suffocated inside.

Suddenly remembering that Sage Rivers didn't like the smell of alcohol, he frowned and poured the expensive liquor down the drain.

He turned toward the bedroom, his footsteps very light, afraid of waking her.

I heard his footsteps and quickly closed my eyes, holding back tears and pretending to sleep.

My heart was beating fast, my fingers gripping the blanket corner tightly, afraid he'd discover I was faking sleep.

Damon stood by the bed, looked down at me for a while, gently stroked my head, then turned and left the room.

For the next several days, Damon never went to the Pack House office again, practically revolving around me every day.

He made the entire northern territory's night sky bloom with blue fireworks that I loved most as a declaration of love, spent 100 million dollars to buy the most expensive healing stone in history to make into a ring, filled the entire villa with my favorite flowers.

He even spent a million dollars to hire the head chef from a French Michelin restaurant to cook just for me.

I looked at the table piled high with gifts, but felt no joy in my heart.

I knew he was trying to make me happy, but my heart had already grown cold as ice.

No one mentioned what happened that day, but everyone knew I wasn't happy.

I smiled less and less, my eyes becoming more and more numb.

Damon finally couldn't stand it anymore. After dinner one evening, he held me in his arms, his voice low and hoarse. "Baby, it's my fault. I didn't protect you properly. Forget about that attack and our lost child, okay? I'll do anything you want."

I looked up at his deep eyes and asked softly, "Anything?"

Damon nodded. "Anything."

I was silent for a while, then finally spoke. "I want to know your phone password."