Desmond Burton

The hot light from the morning sun woke me up, and for a moment, I wanted it all to be a dream. The hellhounds that tried to kill me, the strange world, and Luke Elderman, the cruel billionaire werewolf who had become my husband in less than a day.

I forced myself to sit up slowly before I realized that this wasn’t my room, and the silk maxi dress I wore for the ball was gone. In its place clung a flimsy vintage nightdress that had the scent I recognized instantly.

Luke Elderman.

I wondered who put me in a nightdress, and my pulse spiked.

I was in his room, and I had slept in his bed. Why? My mind raced with a million questions.

Did he bring me here? Did something happen between us?

I clutched the sheets to my chest, panic at my throat.

“Well, well,” a voice drawled. “Sleeping beauty awakens at last.”

My head whipped towards the door.

Desmond Burton leaned casually against the frame. His eyes locked on me, burning, and I forgot how to breathe.

“You look… adorable when you’re confused.”

The word was like an insult. Adorable?

“What happened?” I forced out, though my voice cracked.

“You fell, hard. Hit your head. We stitched it up,” he said. “And now, here you are, looking far too edible in that dress.”

“Desmond!” My voice broke, half alarm, half outrage, but it was too late. He was already moving, already beside me. His mouth crashed against mine. His kiss wasn’t gentle; it was fire, wild and consuming. His hands traced everywhere they pleased, and I didn’t stop him. I couldn’t have even if I wanted to.

I yielded, drowning in the flames he ignited. For a split second, I imagined a life with Desmond Burton, every breath and every day mine entwined with his.

He pulled back, both of us gasping.

“I guess this makes us even with Luke and Henrietta.”

The name, the memory of the black-woman from last night jolted my memory. His kiss, his passion. Was it all to get even?

But then, for the briefest flicker, his voice shifted, softer.

“You know you can leave if you want to?” His eyes searched mine. For the first time, I thought I saw concern in them.

“I can’t,” I whispered. We were both still on Luke’s large bed, and I wanted really badly to leave before he came back. Even the thought of him coming back scared me. My throat was hoarse. “My father forbade it. He said… it’s for my protection.”

Desmond’s jaw tightened. “He lied. The Fifth Command doesn’t say you have to live here. You’re safe as long as you’re married to royal blood, not imprisoned in this castle. Come with me. I’ll take you back to the human world. You’ll be safe there too.”

His words clashed with everything I had been told. “Why are you saying this? Why are you the only one telling me this?”

“Because it’s the truth,” he said. “And because he is coming for you.”

“Who?” I asked. “Who’s coming for me?”

“Jaigan. He sent the hellhounds. He murdered your mother. And now he’s going to come for you.”

“I saved you from the hellhounds back in the human world, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to do it again.”

The roof might as well have fallen on me.

“No,” my voice cracked. I didn’t know if I should have been shocked that he was the werewolf that saved me, or that he was telling me that my mother was murdered. “No. My mother died in an accident. She wasn’t murdered! You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “At eleven, unlock your door. Irene hides a spare key inside a book titled Dungeons and Dragons. Luke will still be gone. Use the key. Go through the blue door. Stairs to your right. Don’t look back. Don’t make a sound. Head straight into the woods. I’ll find you and then I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

And then he was gone. He got up from the bed and headed straight for the door. Just as the door opened, Luke stepped in.

Desmond smirked. “Good to see you’re still breathing, luv.” Then he vanished down the corridor, leaving silence behind him.

I stood frozen, my lips still burning from the kiss and my heart shattering from the news.

“What happened between us yesterday?” I asked with my teeth clenched.

“Nothing,” he answered, unflinching.

“Am I your mate?” I asked again.

Luke’s eyes found mine. “Is that really what you want to know?” he asked, his voice steady and unreadable.

“Yes!” I snapped, my chest heaving. “I want to know if I’m your mate. Your one true love. The one you’re fated to be with. Is it me?”

“Yes,” his answer was quiet and devastating. “I imprinted on you the day you were born. In this very room. You were nursed here too.”

“Does that mean my mother was here? Did you know my mother? And if you imprinted on me, why do you hate me?” My voice broke. “Why do you hate me?”

His expression darkened. “Because it was people like you who murdered my mother.”

His words were bitter.

“But that has nothing to do with me!” I cried. “Not every human is a saint, and not every werewolf is either!”

His voice was ice, resolute. “Get out.”

“No.”

His hand clamped around my wrist, iron-strong, dragging me from his bed to the door and through the hall until he shoved me into my room and locked the door behind me.

“I hate you, Luke Elderman!” I screamed, my voice raw. But there was no answer. Only silence.

And so, when the clock struck eleven, I obeyed Desmond’s instructions.

The book. The key. The blue door. The stairs.

By the time I slipped past the castle walls where the darkness was thickest and I saw werewolves surround me, I knew I had fallen into a trap, into the jaws of my own destruction.