NOT IN MY HOME

AISHA

My breath hitched, the room suddenly feeling like it was running out of air.

Damian and Mabel, standing side by side in his private room. My mind reeled as a sickening wave of confusion and shock washed over me. How were the two of them close? Who was Alpha Damian, really, and what did he actually want with me? Was I just a pawn in a game I didn't even understand?

I stood frozen near the doorway, refusing to bow my head or offer a single word of greeting to the woman who had slaughtered my little brothers.

Damian turned to me, his dark eyes snapping with instant fury. "Aisha, what are you doing in my private study? I have made it clear to everyone in this palace that no one is allowed in here without my explicit permission."

Before I could even open my mouth, Damian lifted his hand and barked toward the hallway. "Guard! Step inside!"

The guard who had been stationed at the end of the corridor hurried into the room, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the floor. His hands were shaking. "Forgive me, Alpha! I... I couldn't stop Luna Aisha from entering. She is your wife, and—"

"You failed your duty," Damian interrupted, his voice dropping into a terrifyingly cold register. "I do not care who she is. No means no. Guards! Take him away! Throw him in the dark cell for one year!"

Two heavy guards immediately rushed in, grabbing their terrified comrade by the arms and dragging him out as he pleaded for mercy.

Damian didn't even blink. He turned his harsh gaze back to me, pointing a finger directly at my face. "As for you, stay out of my business and stay out of this room. Do not test my patience, Aisha."

A hot, furious anger boiled in my chest. I didn't care about his Alpha aura, and I certainly didn't care about his warnings. I hated that he was yelling at me to keep out of a room where Mabel—my worst enemy, the demon who tore my family apart—was standing freely, acting like she owned the place.

Mabel could not defeat me at Samson's house, and she sure as hell was not going to defeat me here. I refused to let Damian treat me like a piece of dirt while honoring the woman who ruined my life.

I stepped forward, completely ignoring Damian, and glared straight at her. "Get out," I ordered, my voice laced with venom. "Get the hell out of this palace, Mabel."

Mabel didn't flinch. Instead, a slow, insufferable smirk spread across her painted lips. She adjusted the velvet sleeves of her gown and let out a soft, mocking laugh.

"Look at you, playing dress-up," Mabel sneered, stepping closer with absolute confidence. "You are just a useless, filthy Omega, Aisha, and you will always remain one. Before you ever even got a tiny smell of power, I was already dwelling in it. I was born into royalty, and I rule. You cannot command me in this room, nor anywhere else."

"Enough, both of you—" Damian started, moving to step between us.

"Shut up, Damian!" I snapped, refusing to let him stop me.

I reached out, grabbing Mabel by the upper arm to physically drag her out of the study. The moment my fingers dug into her sleeve, Mabel violently kicked my hand off with a sharp backhand strike, her eyes flashing with pure hatred.

"Don't you dare touch me with your filthy hands!" Mabel shrieked, her fake elegance instantly dropping into raw maliciousness. "Enjoy your little illusion of safety while it lasts, Aisha! My army is already mobilizing. They are coming to take your head for murdering my father-in-law, Alpha Brad! Getting married to Damian cannot save you from execution!"

"You know you killed him, you lying snake!" I screamed back, my knuckles turning white as I clenched my fists.

"Oh, do I?" Mabel laughed, a dark, victorious sound echoing through the room. "I have concrete evidence to prove you poisoned Alpha Brad in his bed. I will bring it before the High Council of Elders. I even have written confessions from your dead little brothers, Leo and Toby! They admitted to the guards before they died that they saw you sneak the poison into the Alpha's drink!"

My heart stopped. My blood ran completely cold. She was using my murdered, innocent brothers—framing them even after she slit their tiny throats—to paint me as a monster to the entire werewolf kingdom.

I turned my eyes to Damian, expecting him to defend me, to unleash his powerful aura on the woman lying about my family. But when I looked at his face, my chest caved in.

Damian wasn't looking at Mabel with anger. He was looking at me with deep, sickening suspicion. Right there, in that quiet study, I realized the truth: even Damian believed I had killed Alpha Brad.

Mabel saw the doubt on Damian's face and smiled triumphantly. She straightened her dress, cast one last wicked look at me, and swept out of the private study, her heavy silk skirt rustling softly against the marble floor.

The heavy oak doors clicked shut behind her, leaving a suffocating silence in the room.

Damian stood behind his massive wooden desk. The tender lover who had held me all night, who my pussy had swallowed his dick seven good times last night, who had wrapped his arms around me after sleeping with me seven times, was completely gone. In his place stood a cold, calculating stranger.

"Damian..." I began, my voice trembling with a mixture of rage and betrayal. "You don't actually believe her, do you? You know she's lying!"

Damian didn't answer right away. He slowly walked around his desk, his dark eyes pinned on me like a predator stalking prey.

"Tell me, Aisha," Damian said, his voice dropping into a low, deadly whisper that chilled me to the bone. "Did you sleep with Alpha Samson just to cover up this massive mess?"

I blinked, stunned by the sudden turn. "What? I told you yesterday! I didn't sleep with—"

"Stop lying to me!" Damian roared, his voice shaking the heavy paintings on the wall.

I stared at him, my breath catching in my throat. I thought he had believed me yesterday. I thought my soft words and the passion we shared last night had completely convinced him that nothing happened between me and Samson in that private study back at the Blue Wing pack house.

Damian pulled a thick brown envelope from his tunic pocket. With a flick of his wrist, he slammed it onto the glass coffee table between us, scattering dozens of glossy photographs across the surface.

"Look at them!" he spat, his jaw muscles tight with pure, unbridled fury. "Look at your proof!"

I slowly walked over to the table, my eyes dropping down to the images scattered on the dark glass.

My breath hitched, and a sharp gasp escaped my lips.

The photos were crystal clear, taken from a high, hidden angle inside Samson's private study. They showed Alpha Samson and me wrapped in a tangle of limbs on the leather couch—in raw, unmistakable, steaminess. Every position, every intimate touch, every bit of passion we had shared that night was captured in vivid detail.

Mabel hadn't just suspected us. She had hidden a camera in her husband's study. She had recorded the entire encounter, and she had handed the pictures straight to Damian.

I stood frozen over the table, the photos blurring before my eyes as Damian stepped up right behind me, his heavy, burning aura suffocating every inch of the room.