All Chapters of His Father's Mate: Chapter 1 - Chapter 7

The bar was thick with smoke, whiskey, and that sharp werewolf musk that made my skin prickle.I was already on my feet, boots planted unevenly on the sticky floor, swaying just enough to know the liquor had won. The room started to spin a little, as lights shone amber and red across dark booths. My head felt heavy, but my chest felt heavier—like something was still clawing at the inside of my ribs.Three big wolves sat in the corner booth, shoulders wide, drinks in hand, laughing low. Their voices came through the music, loud and careless.“…human mate, can you believe it?”“Cassian must be slumming it for the bond boost.”“She won’t last a month in real pack life.”“Pathetic little thing.”Every word felt like a fresh cut. Heat surged up my neck, while tears stayed behind my eyes. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. The liquor made everything louder in anger, and hurt.I turned. My voice was loud enough to be heard over the music. “Got something to say?”They laughed mockingly

The phone in my pocket buzzed again as I turned the corner onto my street.I ignored it. I had been ignoring it since I left the pavilion. Notifications piled up—texts, missed calls, voicemails I didn’t want to hear. Cassian’s name flashed on the screen every few minutes, insistent, like he thought constant noise would force me to answer. I didn’t open any of them. I knew what they would say. Threats wrapped in fake apologies. Begging disguised as anger. Words that would only make the ache in my chest worse.My apartment building looked smaller than it had yesterday. The cracked steps felt colder under my boots, rougher, like they’d sharpened overnight. The peeling paint on the door sagged more, curling at the edges. Everything felt tighter, like the world had shrunk around me while I was gone, squeezing in from all sides.I climbed the stairs slowly. Legs heavy, knees soft from running earlier. Chest still tight from sprinting away from the pavilion. From crying in ugly, silent heave

At the Villa's guest wing, my suitcase sat untouched at the foot of the bed with its zipper still half-open from when I’d thrown things in earlier. The room was too big—high ceilings disappearing into shadow, dark wood floors polished until they reflected the faint moonlight coming through the windows. The king bed was draped in white sheets, pillows stacked perfectly, like no one had ever slept in it. I stood in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around myself. The sundress still clung to my skin, wrinkled from yesterday, smelling faintly of whiskey and sweat. I hadn’t unpacked. Hadn’t showered. Hadn’t even sat down since the young, quiet maid whose eyes always averted showed me in and left. Her footsteps had faded down the hall, soft and quick, like she didn’t want to hang around.Damian hadn’t followed.He’d disappeared after the office door closed behind him and left me standing there with his words ringing in my ears, low and rough: If you ever say it again, I won’t stop.My f