Semua Bab Contract Marriage To The Alpha King : Bab 151 - Bab 160

Damian’s POVThe room reeked of fear and burnt coffee—the bitter kind that stuck to skin, blackened through nerves. Once my cleaning was finished and the dead air rinsed from the walls, the aftertaste was made of burned metal and regret. This office had thundered once: glass stretching to a steel-blue sky, mahogany and stone gleaming beneath a king’s boot. Now it held stains: panic, loss, shame. My pulse still hammered in my throat, aftershocks leftover from an hour’s savage, necessary work. Power made men break in different ways, and today I’d tested all their limits. It eased the gnawing in my veins, but still the worst of it lingered. There was always more rot to carve out.Ava never deserved this. She was not cut for boardrooms soured by betrayals. She belonged elsewhere: storm-lit rooftops, laughter in the new night, the wild world on the edges of shadow. The wolf in me, restless and wired, paced and snapped. He’d fed on fear but ached unsatisfied. Then, through the bitter tang o

Ava's POV The heat of him was a literal force—warmth pressed across the small of my back, breath hot against the shell of my ear. Lightning cracked somewhere in the city and the room flared, the sound swallowed by the way his mouth moved along my neck.“You taste like coffee,” he murmured, the words vibrating through my skin. “And rain. Dangerous combination.”I tried to answer with something clever and failed. My voice came out thinner than I wanted. “You’re ridiculous.”“Only about important things.” His hands tightened, not harshly, but possessively, as if he could physically map me by touch. “Like keeping you safe. Like keeping you near.”Slowly, deliberately, he turned me toward him. His eyes caught mine and the world narrowed—marble, chrome, the rain on the panes—everything else faded to a soft blur at the edges. Up close, his face was all planes: jaw, high cheekbones, that unyielding set to his mouth. And in his stormy irises there was hunger and something softer, a tenderness

Ava’s POVBy the time we swept into Blackwood Estate’s glass-and-steel tower, it felt as if I wore two entirely different skins. Outwardly, I was Damian Blackwood’s polished secretary—hair pinned smooth, navy silk blouse outlined perfectly beneath my blazer, heels clicking authoritatively across the gleaming marble floors. I offered small, practiced smiles to the morning crew, careful to keep my gaze professional, my voice precise, my manner formal. But under my pressed collar lingered the ghost of his touch—the marks of last night still stinging and secret against my hips, the memory of his mouth and teeth making every inch of me feel raw, alert. Inwardly, I was his wife, and that secret burned under my clothes: a wild, kinetic thing only he could see.He led the way ahead, the king of this glass kingdom. The sway in his wide shoulders, the way underlings parted for him—Damian Blackwood moved as though he owned the air itself. No one in this city dared catch his eye for long. But h

Ava's POV “You enjoy their attention, don’t you?” His tone was a blade—wanting to cut, but held in check. My brow furrowed. “What?” “The way they look at you. Lydia. The others. You enjoy letting them think you’re available.” Dark hunger glittered in his eyes; jealousy, twisted with possession. I placed the files on his desk, and squared my shoulders. “I don’t encourage anyone. I’m not here to play games, Damian.” He closed the distance in two strides, his presence overwhelming. His fingers curled around my wrist with just enough pressure to remind me of everything I’d surrendered to him. I was pressed to the hard plane of his chest. It made me dizzy. “You don’t have to encourage anyone, Ava. You just exist, and they fall at your feet. It drives me insane—knowing every man in this office thinks about you.” His mouth was suddenly inches from mine, fury and longing shadowing every word. “Do you have any idea what that does to me?” His breath was hot against my cheek; the

Damian’s POVThe apartment was quiet when I woke—too quiet, the kind that makes you scan the shadows for the sound of betrayal, the way a wolf strains at the edge of the pack for the scent of trespass. The city murmured beyond the penthouse’s glass wall, its dawn chorus low and insistent—engines, horns, the distant pulse of commerce. But inside, nothing moved save the soft, steady cadence of Ava’s breath and the low, satisfied rumble of my wolf pressing at the boundaries of consciousness.She lay sprawled across my chest, hair a dark banner on my collarbone, the faint gold of sunlight catching where last night’s promises marked her skin. I watched her for a long, lazy moment—a rare quiet, before the world crashed in. She curled slightly, one knee tucked and her palm splayed over my ribs, sheltering herself in the shelter of me as if she believed it would hold the day at bay.My hand moved without direction, tracing the line of her jaw, the curve where the morning light kissed her che