Chapter 016

The evening began in full swing just after Draven’s speech, and I desperately needed to get out.

But my chest still felt too tight. The weight of so many eyes, the weight of Daemon’s smoldering stare, it pressed on me like a brand. Clara had slipped away toward the tables to fetch wine, leaving me momentarily alone, and in that moment all I wanted was escape. A breath of air. A sliver of silence. Anything but this suffocating crush of wolves and power.

I turned toward the far end of the hall, weaving between groups of strangers, skirts brushing against boots and the occasional trailing cloak. Just one more step. One more…….

“Rain, isn’t it?”

The voice halted me mid-stride. Smooth, feminine, but lined with something sharp enough to cut.

I looked up.

She stood before me like a vision of polished cruelty. Tall, poised, a gown of blood-red silk clinging to her frame. Her dark hair gleamed under the chandeliers, her lips curved into a smile that was all teeth. And her eyes, wolf eyes, they burned with a knowing look. With ownership.

“I’m Selene,” she said with an all too sweet smile.

“You’re even prettier up close,” she said softly, though her gaze roamed over me like I was a thing to be sized and dismissed. “No wonder you’ve managed to stir up so much… noise.”

My throat tightened, but I lifted my chin. “Noise?”

Selene’s laugh was velvet stretched too thin. “Wolves whisper, love. They always whisper. And lately, all I hear is you. The stray Draven took in. The pale little dove Daemon seems so eager to ruffle.” Her voice dipped lower. “Tell me, how does it feel—walking into a hall full of predators who already want to take a bite?”

Heat flushed my face, but I held her stare. “I’m not here to be bitten.”

Selene’s smile sharpened. “No. You’re here to be devoured.”

My heart gave a painful thud. Over her shoulder, I caught sight of him. Daemon, leaning casually against a column, arms folded, eyes fixed on us. His smirk was wicked delight, like he’d wound the string and was waiting for us to snap.

Selene followed my glance, and her smile soured. “Don’t mistake his eyes for yours, little wolf. Daemon’s loyalty is already claimed.”

Her hand lifted, almost casually, and brushed the curve of my hair over my shoulder like she had the right to touch me. “Stay in your place, and you won’t get hurt.”

The words made my skin prickle, but I didn’t flinch. Not until her smile slipped, sharpness flashing across her face.

She moved faster than I expected, claws flashing as her hand whipped upward, aiming for my cheek.

I froze—

but another hand caught her wrist mid-swing, stopping her just short of raking my face open.

The hall stilled. The voices hushed like a fire smothered.

Darius.

He stood at Selene’s side, his grip iron around her wrist, his expression calm but glacial. His voice carried easily, cutting through the silence.

“Daemon,” he drawled, not sparing her so much as a glance. “Come collect your whore.”

The words cracked across the hall like a whip.

Gasps flared, followed by a ripple of muffled laughter, of whispers hastily stifled. Selene’s face drained of color, then flushed hot with fury. She jerked against his grip, but Darius released her with a cold flick of his hand as though she were filth beneath his fingers.

“How dare you—” she spat, rounding on him, but her voice broke against the weight of his stare.

Daemon finally moved, sauntering forward with that damnable grin plastered across his mouth, slow and deliberate, as though savoring the spectacle.

“Easy now,” he murmured, stepping between them. His hand came up to curl around Selene’s waist, pulling her back into him, though his eyes, those eyes, never left mine. “She only meant to… introduce herself.”

Selene trembled with barely contained rage, her claws still gleaming at her side. “She’s nothing—”

“Enough.” Darius’s voice was flat, absolute. The kind of command that needed no volume.

The silence in the hall thickened, pressing down on us all.

Daemon chuckled, low and dark, his hand smoothing along Selene’s side in mock comfort. “As you wish, brother.”

But his grin as his gaze slid back to me promised the same thing it always did.

So much for keeping to myself.

I’d promised myself I’d blend into the background tonight, to survive the evening unnoticed. Instead, I’d been dragged into the center of it, creating enemies out of people like Selene wasn’t the best way to start my evening.

She had to be more to Daemon, she had to mean more to him, and just wanted to put me in my place.

But Daemon is my mate and she doesn’t even stand a chance if that was her problem.

But the thing is, just as Ciaus had found someone else, Daemon could easily reject me, so can Draven and Darius too.

Dread filled my stomach at that thought. Would they reject me?

Clara came rushing back, eyes wide and concern showing on her face.

“My lady, are you alright?”

That question seemed far fetched.

My heart hadn’t yet steadied. It was beating way too fast, too loud, loud enough I wondered if the entire hall could hear it. The weight of their stares lingered, wolves, humans, witches, even the vampires, all of them witnessing me caught between the brothers, between a woman who wanted me gone and a man who didn’t hesitate to humiliate her for daring to touch me.

My skin still tingled where Selene’s claws might have torn.

I hated it.

I hated the fear, the heat, the thrill tangled in with the shame.

And most of all, I hated the way Daemon’s grin still burned in my mind, carved into me as though he’d branded me with the promise that I couldn’t escape his attention.

I wanted to disappear. To sink into the stone floor and be forgotten.

Instead, when I forced myself to look up, it was Darius standing there. His eyes weren’t mocking like Daemon’s, nor assessing like Draven’s. They were steady. Unreadable. The kind of stare that saw everything and gave nothing in return.

His presence made the crowd’s whispers soften, their eyes scatter elsewhere, as though his stillness itself demanded space.

I swallowed hard, trying to gather my voice, but it was him who spoke first.

“Do you need air?”

The question was quiet. Direct. Not a command, not a performance, not for the hall’s benefit. Just for me.

Air.

Yes! gods, yes. My lungs had been burning for it since the doors first opened.

But to leave with him, to step into his shadow, would only draw more eyes. More whispers. More of the very thing I was desperate to escape.

Still, his gaze held mine, waiting, patient as stone, like he already knew I was drowning and would stand there until I admitted it.

My lips parted, no sound escaping at first. Then, barely more than a whisper, I found the word.

“Yes.”