Chapter Three– Forbidden Territory

My palm still tingled from the slap. Damon’s cheek was red, but he hadn’t moved, hadn’t even blinked. The only thing that shifted was the air between us—charged, heavy, full of things we weren’t supposed to feel.

I pulled my hand back like it had burned me.

“I said stay away,” I whispered, but my voice was paper-thin.

He stood there, jaw flexing, storm-gray eyes dark as a gathering thunderhead. For a second, I thought he might grab me, say something else, but instead he turned on his heel and melted back into the shadows. His boots crunched on gravel until the sound faded into the night.

Jinx made a low, disappointed hum in my head. Damn. If he doesn’t want you, I’ll take him.

Madam can you keep quiet?, I hissed.

What? Don’t act like you didn’t feel that heat. The way he leaned in, the way he growled your name? My panties practically disintegrated.

You don’t even wear panties.

Exactly.

I shoved her voice down, forcing myself to breathe. In. Out. Just air. Just lungs. Just me. Then I slipped back inside the reception before anyone noticed I was gone.

****

The rest of the night passed in a blur. My mom looked radiant, floating through the room in her lace dress, Raiden’s hulking form always close behind her. Wolves clapped him on the back, toasted with whiskey, and shouted congratulations.

I smiled when I was supposed to. Hugged when people came close. But my pulse never settled. Every laugh sounded too loud, every glance too sharp, like people could see straight through me to the bond burning under my skin.

Damon didn’t return. Maybe that was good. Maybe.

When it was finally over, I kissed my mom’s cheek and told her I loved her. Raiden’s hand was heavy on her shoulder, his dark eyes cool but not unkind as he nodded at me.

Then I practically ran out of there.

****

The Calder property was exactly what I expected: big, brooding, built of wood and iron at the edge of the forest. A fortress disguised as a home. My mom’s things were already inside, tucked into corners that smelled faintly of cedar and smoke.

My old room waited upstairs. Same bedding. Same dresser. Same faint squeak in the floorboards when I stepped inside. Only now, across the hall, Damon’s door loomed.

I locked mine and shoved my bag against it. Just in case.

But sleep didn’t come.

The bond kept pulsing, crawling under my skin like a second heartbeat. My wolf pressed against me, restless, hungry.

He’s here, Jinx whispered. You can feel him too, can’t you? Upstairs. Pacing like a caged beast. Gods, Lyric, go knock on his door already.

No.

Fine. He can knock on ours. I’ll let him in.

Over my dead body.

Worth it.

*****

The next morning dawned heavy, the sky a sheet of gray. I dragged myself downstairs, hoping coffee would drown the ache in my wrist.

Instead, I walked into the middle of an argument.

Raiden stood at the head of the kitchen table, a mug in hand, voice sharp. Damon leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his jaw tight.

“You’ll be civil,” Raiden said. “With me. With my mate. With Lyric. You hear me? No attitude. No disappearing acts. You’re under this roof now, and you’ll damn well act like it.”

“Civil,” Damon muttered, his tone mocking. “Sure. Because that’s what family is to you—civility.”

Raiden’s eyes narrowed. “You think you’re grown? You think you can keep running your own show? Newsflash, boy. You’re Calder blood. You’ll pull your weight in this family, or you’re out.”

Damon’s laugh was hollow. “Out? You’ve been pushing me out since the day I could walk.”

Raiden slammed his mug down. “You’ll work the Iron Fang shop with my men. Full-time. No excuses. Bikes come in, you fix them. Orders come in, you fill them. That business feeds this pack, Damon. You’re part of this pack whether you like it or not.”

Damon’s storm-gray eyes flashed. “And if I don’t?”

Raiden’s voice dropped to a growl. “Then you’re cut off. From me. From this pack. From your inheritance. And I’ll make damn sure no wolf in this state gives you shelter. That’s what your brother would’ve done—stayed. Pulled his weight. Been loyal. You can’t even do that.”

The silence that followed was brutal.

Damon’s knuckles turned white against the counter. His voice, when it came, was low and rough. “Come on , leave him out of this.”

Raiden didn’t answer.

Neither of them noticed me frozen in the doorway, my chest tight with the weight of it.

****

By the time I slipped into the living room, Raiden’s Beta—an iron-haired woman with sharp eyes—was already perched on the couch with another elder. Their voices drifted in low, heavy tones.

“…unraveled the whole family,” the elder was saying. “The boy couldn’t keep it in his pants. Slept with his stepsister. Do you know what that did to the pack’s reputation?”

Raiden’s Beta sniffed, disapproving. “Disgrace. Bloodlines matter. We’ve survived because we’ve kept them clean. Step-siblings crossing that line—it’s filth. It tears trust apart. No wolf can lead after something like that.”

“They got Banished,” the elder said grimly. “Both of them. No pack would touch them after that.”

A chill crept down my spine.

My wolf went very, very still.

Well, shit, Jinx muttered. Guess sneaking into his bed would be a one-way ticket to Exileville.

Oh my goodness.

But the words clung to me like smoke: they are a disgrace. They were Banished. They are Filth.

If anyone even suspected…

*****”

I ran upstairs, nearly slamming my door behind me. My palms were damp, my chest too tight. Across the hall, Damon’s door shut with a quiet click.

And still I felt him.

Hours crawled by. I unpacked clothes, folded sheets, tried to focus on anything but the storm brewing under my skin.

It didn’t work.

That night, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The house was too quiet. Every creak, every groan of the old wood made my wolf perk her ears.

And then the air shifted.

I knew before I opened my eyes.

He was in the doorway.

One hand braced against the frame, body half-shadowed, eyes glowing faint silver in the dark.

It should’ve scared me. Should’ve sent me running.

Instead my wolf shivered, ears forward, tail curled like she was begging for him.

“Damon,” I whispered. “You can’t be here.”

He didn’t answer. Just stood there, chest rising and falling slow, heavy. His storm-gray gaze burned into me like he was starving.

My wrist pulsed, bond alive, clawing through me. My breath hitched.

“Go away,” I tried again. “Please.”

He didn’t. He took a single step forward—then stopped. His jaw clenched. His fists curled. He looked like he was breaking apart just standing there.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. The bond stretched between us, tight as wire.

And then he pulled back. Slowly. Painfully. He stepped away, disappearing into the hall without a sound.

I sat trembling in the dark, my wolf whining softly in my chest.

Forbidden. Dangerous. Ours.