Two

Damon’s POV

The training grounds smelled like sweat, blood, and wet earth. I liked it that way—raw, honest. No bullshit.

I circled Cade, my beta, boots sinking into the mud. He was grinning like an idiot, bouncing on the balls of his feet, fists up. He’d been mouthing off all morning about how he could take me if I “let him win for once.” Cute.

I feinted left. He bit—hard. I drove my elbow into his ribs before he could pull back. The crack echoed. He grunted, doubled over, but still laughing through the pain.

“Fuck, Alpha. You hit like you’re pissed at me.”

“I’m not pissed,” I said, wiping sweat from my brow. “You’re just slow.”

Cade straightened, rubbing his side. “Slow? I’m the fastest in the pack.”

“Not today.”

He smirked. “Maybe if you weren’t distracted by that pretty little thing watching from the fence line.”

I didn’t need to look to know who he meant.

Valentina.

She was perched on the top rail, legs crossed, crimson top clinging to her like a second skin. Hair perfect, lips painted, eyes locked on me like I was the only thing in the world worth seeing. Her friends flanked her—Sienna cheering like this was a show, Talia scrolling her phone but glancing up every few seconds, Mira just… watching. Always watching.

Valentina caught my eye and blew a kiss.

I gave her a half-smile. The kind she liked. The kind that said later.

Cade snorted. “You two are disgusting.”

“Jealous?”

“Of Val? Nah. Of the fact you get to fuck someone who looks like that without begging? Maybe.”

I laughed—short, low. “She doesn’t make me beg.”

“Yet.”

I shoved him. He shoved back. We reset, circling again.

Truth was, Val was easy. Beautiful, willing, ambitious. She knew exactly what being with the future Alpha meant—power, status, the Luna title she’d been groomed for since we were kids. We’d been fucking since last spring. Nothing serious. Nothing emotional. Just bodies, release, and the occasional public display to keep the pack talking.

She liked being seen on my arm. I liked the way she looked when I pinned her against a wall and made her forget her own name.

Simple.

No strings. No expectations beyond what we both wanted.

The pack approved. Her father approved. My father—before he stepped down last year—had practically ordered it. “Choose strength, Damon. Choose alliance. Don’t let the Goddess trick you into weakness.”

I’d listened.

I always listened.

We finished the spar. Cade tapped out, cursing and laughing. I helped him up, clapped his shoulder.

“Get some ice on that rib before Val sees and thinks I’m beating up her backup options.”

He flipped me off. “You’re an asshole.”

“Alpha asshole.”

He wandered off toward the infirmary. I stayed in the ring, rolling my shoulders, letting the burn settle.

Valentina hopped down from the fence and sauntered over. Her hips swayed the way they always did when she wanted attention. She slid her arms around my neck, pressing her body against mine—soft curves against hard muscle, jasmine perfume cutting through the sweat.

“You were magnificent,” she purred, lips brushing my ear. “As always.”

I gripped her waist. “Flattery gets you everywhere.”

She smiled against my jaw. “Tonight. My room. After the elders’ meeting.”

I kissed her—hard, claiming. She moaned softly, nails digging into my shoulders.

Around us, the pack pretended not to watch. They always watched.

When I pulled back, her eyes were dark, hungry.

“Promise you won’t be late,” she said.

“I won’t.”

She kissed me once more—slow, teasing—then slipped away, hips rolling as she rejoined her friends. They giggled, heads together. Plotting. Always plotting.

I turned toward the pack house.

That’s when I saw her.

Elara Voss.

She was carrying a stack of linens across the yard, head down, shoulders hunched like she was trying to disappear into them. White apron tied around her waist, hair pulled back in a messy knot, a few strands sticking to her neck from the heat.

She didn’t look up.

She never did when I was around.

I’d seen her before—hundreds of times. Kitchen girl. Cleaner. Ghost in the hallways. Low-rank. Unshifted. The kind of wolf the pack forgot existed until they needed something scrubbed.

She paused to adjust the stack, and one sheet slipped. She caught it fast, cheeks flushing like she was embarrassed by the near-miss.

Something twisted in my chest. Not pity. Not interest.

Just… awareness.

She was going to be eighteen in three days.

The ceremony.

The mate reveal.

I snorted to myself. As if the Goddess would pair someone like her with anyone worth a damn.

She’d probably end up with some mid-rank warrior who’d fuck her once a month and ignore her the rest of the time. Or nothing at all. Some wolves never got the bond. It happened.

Either way, it wasn’t my problem.

I had Val. I had the pack. I had everything mapped out.

I turned away, heading for the alpha quarters to shower.

Three days until the full moon.

Three days until the Goddess showed everyone what they already knew: Damon Blackthorn didn’t settle for weakness.

I’d choose Val officially that night—chosen mate, not fated. The pack would cheer. The alliance would solidify. My father would nod from the elder seats.

And Elara Voss?

She’d still be invisible.

Just like always.

---

The elders’ meeting dragged like every other one—endless talk of border patrols, harvest yields, alliances with smaller packs. My father sat at the head of the long oak table, voice steady but tired, passing the torch inch by inch even though he’d already stepped down. I nodded when I was supposed to, asked the right questions, let the old wolves feel important.

All the while, my mind was elsewhere.

Valentina.

She’d texted me twice during the meeting—photos that made my blood run hot even in the stuffy council room. One of her in black lace, legs spread just enough to tease. Another of her fingers trailing down her stomach, captioned: Waiting, Alpha.

I shifted in my chair. My wolf stirred, restless.

When Elder Mara finally adjourned, I stood before anyone could corner me with more questions. “Good night, everyone.”

My father caught my eye. A small, knowing smirk. He knew exactly where I was headed.

I didn’t bother hiding it.

The pack house corridors were quiet this late—most wolves already in their rooms or out on night patrol. I took the back stairs to the third floor, avoiding the main hall where someone might stop me to talk.

Val’s door was cracked open. A sliver of warm lamplight spilled into the hallway.

I pushed it wider.

She was waiting exactly like she promised.

Reclined on the bed in nothing but that black lace set, one leg bent, the other stretched long. Her dark hair fanned across the pillows. Lips parted. Eyes locked on me like prey that wanted to be caught.

“Lock the door,” she breathed.

I did. The click echoed.

I crossed the room in three strides.

She rose to her knees as I reached her, hands already reaching for my belt. I caught her wrists, pinned them above her head with one hand. She gasped—half protest, half invitation.

“Impatient tonight?” I murmured against her throat.

“You kept me waiting.” Her voice was husky, needy. “I hate waiting.”

I bit down lightly on her pulse point. She arched, moaning my name.

I released her wrists. She didn’t waste time—fingers flew to my shirt, yanking buttons open. I shrugged it off, let it drop. Her nails raked down my chest, hard enough to leave red lines.

I liked that.

I shoved her back onto the mattress. She laughed—low, wicked—then pulled me down with her. Our mouths crashed together, tongues tangling, teeth clashing. She tasted like wine and sin.

My hands roamed—cupping her breasts through the lace, thumbs circling her nipples until they pebbled hard. She whimpered into my mouth, hips rolling up against mine.

I broke the kiss, dragged my lips down her neck, her collarbone. Bit the swell of her breast above the bra. She cried out, fingers threading into my hair, pulling hard.

“Damon—please—”

I growled low in my throat. My wolf liked when she begged.

I tore the lace bra open with one sharp tug. She gasped. I didn’t give her time to complain—mouth closed over one nipple, sucking hard, tongue flicking. My hand slid between her thighs, finding her already soaked through the matching panties.

“Fuck, Val,” I muttered against her skin. “You’re dripping.”

“All for you,” she panted. “Always for you.”

I hooked my fingers in the lace and ripped it away. She moaned louder, legs falling open. I slid two fingers inside her without warning—deep, curling. Her back bowed off the bed.

“Yes—fuck—right there—”

I pumped slowly at first, watching her face twist with pleasure. Then faster. Harder. Thumb circling her clit in tight, relentless strokes.

She came fast—shuddering, crying out my name, walls clenching around my fingers. I didn’t stop until she was trembling, oversensitive, pushing weakly at my wrist.

I pulled out, licked my fingers clean while she watched, eyes glazed.

“On your knees,” I ordered.

She obeyed instantly—rolling over, ass up, face pressed to the pillow. I shoved my pants down, kicked them aside. My cock was already aching, thick and heavy.

I gripped her hips, lined up, and thrust in hard.

She screamed—pleasure-pain—then pushed back against me, taking every inch.

“Goddess—yes—”

I set a brutal pace. Deep. Relentless. Skin slapping skin. Her moans filled the room, raw and desperate. I reached around, fingers finding her clit again, rubbing in time with my thrusts.

She came a second time almost immediately—body shaking, walls fluttering around me. I didn’t slow down. I fucked her through it, chasing my own release.

My wolf snarled inside me—possessive, dominant.

Mine.

Mine to take.

Mine to mark.

I leaned over her, chest to her back, teeth grazing the spot where her neck met shoulder. The place a true mate mark would go.

She whimpered. “Do it—bite me—”

I froze for half a second.

Then I pulled back. Bit her shoulder instead—hard enough to bruise, not break skin.

She cried out again, coming a third time, body convulsing.

That pushed me over.

I slammed in deep one last time and spilled inside her with a guttural groan, hips jerking, vision whiting out for a moment.

We collapsed together—sweaty, panting, tangled.

She turned her head, kissed my jaw sloppily.

“That was…” She laughed breathlessly. “Perfect.”

I rolled off her, stared at the ceiling.

My heart was still pounding too hard.

Three days until the ceremony.

Three days until the Goddess tried to tell me who I was supposed to want.

I glanced at Val—flushed, satisfied, already reaching for me again like she could go another round.

She was perfect.

Chosen.

Safe.

I pulled her close, let her curl against my side.

My wolf settled.

Quiet.

For now.