All Chapters of Deranged Alpha and His Chosen Mate: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

DAMIANMy guts are never wrong. Since the brief arousal with my contract wife, I find myself in a constant struggle with my beast. A fight for supremacy, a tussle for dominance. One of which the resulting effect of losing control could not be condoned. I could hurt her, like my mother. And I cannot afford that. When I left the room, I stepped into the surrounding woods, for a respite. Away from obligation and prying eyes. Away in the open woods where I could go out and not be concerned about losing control. But what I did not expect was the inkling that I would meet her here. Out in the woods, and running from the castle. My eyebrows knit with annoyance as I clench harder on her wrist. Only until she whimpers, bending to the arrested hand, do I lighten my hold. Nonetheless, my face remains unreadable, but my eyes, I could tell, froths with a storm within. There are a thousand things I want to say– as a means to vent my boiling rage. But I hold still, watching as she protests si

DAMIAN The question feels like an attack. And I show this by letting out a low growl– enough to deter her. Or at least, make her go slow on probing the matter, for now. There is silence for a bit. I savour it, letting the crackles of the low burning fire in the earth distract me momentarily. But even so, nothing takes away the memory of the night– and the vicious attack of the wolves. Especially how she controlled those wolves with the ghost mist from her body. I should ask her.. About that. I want to argue that I should let go, for now. Allow her rest but my mind chides me even further– Nobody, in history and present has possessed that power– the power to calm and subdue madness. I am disturbed with this dilemma, battling against my mind. But just then, I hear her stir behind me. When I look over my shoulders, I see Ophelia, sitting up in bed, a soft sigh escaping her lips. The moment our eyes lock focus, something shifts in me at her curious gaze. Enough to make me si

DAMIANI can still smell it–the scent of her arousal. It clings to me stubbornly, reminding me of what could have been. Of the pleasures I would be drowning in–claiming her body.Another deep breath, and I stagger away from the door. No, No more. I sigh again lumbering away. Even though my mind lingers there–to feel her touch, her body, her scent. But it is all too sudden.Even so, I cannot deny the yearning I have for her. The longing, the desire. And within me, I hear my wolf growl in approval, with an acknowledgement I could only understand– she's ours. No, I argue back, she’s my wife for the council's sake. Not ours. No more, no less. Ours. I ignore the beast within me. And everything that still clings on to her. Shifting my thoughts, I observe the moonlight filtering through the halls as I walk away, in search of a distraction.Something to take my mind off her. I need to focus. Making out twice in a short session, that's too much. Put your head in the game, Damian.

DAMIANSo kill them. His words echo in my head, over and over again. Not like a suggestion. But a command, a betrayal of every code I stand by. One of which he is familiar with. I turn to leave, not wanting to be here for a second longer. But just as my feet turn around, I freeze, my expression hardening. I feel the surge of anger and disappointment within my guts. One that refuses to be silenced and in a single heartbeat, I rotate back to him. “You know…” I start slowly with a chuckle. “For someone whose profession borders around saving lives. Someone who took the healer's oath, you don't seem very particular about upholding the statues.” Henrick looks up at me, his eyes narrowing just briefly. And then there is plain nothingness–an unreadable expression as he stares blankly at me. “I can't make the decision for you, Damian. But I do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done.” He says. I scoff bitterly again. “What needs to be done, Henrick? What did you do?”His eyebr

OPHELIAAfter taking a much-needed bath with the sweet-smelling lather, the maids help me into one of the dresses. An emerald colored piece of satin that shimmers faintly with the little rays of sun. The bodice is perfectly my size–fitted but not too tight. The neckline is modest enough to cover the hickey left on my skin from last night. None of the maids seem to have any reaction to it. They’re all trained so well that they somehow manage not to display any of their emotions on their faces. Or perhaps they had already seen too much for them to be bothered any longer.The sleeves fall softly against my arms with the long skirt pooling around my feet. “The dress looks gorgeous on you, Your Majesty.” Katrina compliments with a wide smile. “It matches your eyes.” I can’t help but smile at the genuine comment. She beacons me gently and I sit by the vanity for her to work on my hair.My long and thick black locks magically turn into an elegant hairdo with braids by the sides, woven i