All Chapters of Fated to my Alpha nemesis : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

210 Chapters

Take your clothes off

Damon starts moving again.“Okay, I’m going to assume whatever you just heard is not a bird.”The storm only gets worse the deeper Damon carries me into the trees.Branches whip overhead violently as thunder rolls across the mountains again, low enough to vibrate through my ribs.Damon says nothing.Not after whatever he heard earlier.His expression stays hard and unreadable as he moves through the storm with terrifying certainty, boots sliding through mud and wet leaves without slowing once. Without slipping.I should probably be more concerned about the fact that I’m currently being carried like kidnapped royalty.Instead, exhaustion is starting to win.The warmth of Damon’s body cuts through the freezing rain enough to make everything feel strangely unreal.My head rests reluctantly against his chest as another wave of pain pulses through my ankle.His heartbeat stays steady beneath my cheek.“You know,” I mutter weakly, “this is still humiliating.”“Mm.”“That sounded suspiciousl

A Sleep Deprived Racoon

“Turn around.” I blink. “…Excuse me?” His eyes flick briefly toward mine. Flat. Unbothered. “Turn around.” My mouth opens slightly before I catch up to what he means. “Oh,” I say, watching as he picks out two items of clothing from the pile. Then, because I am apparently committed to surviving this storm with my dignity in pieces, I scoff. “It’s not like I want to look at you.” “You do.” “That is so extremely inaccurate,” I huff, flabbergasted. How can he just say things like that with a straight face? A beat. Damon stares at me. I stare back. “Why can't you go change somewhere else?” I ask, crossing my arms. “You don’t have a messed up ankle. So I guess you can move from point A to B without toppling over.” “There is no somewhere else,” he says matter-of-factly. “And why is that?” Damon jerks his chin vaguely behind him. “Because half the back room collapsed on itself.” I blink. “…What?” “The roof gave out.” “That’s awfully convenient,” I huff

Sexcapades

“There,” he says. “Try not to put pressure on it for tonight.” “Tonight,” I repeat slowly. His eyes flick toward the storm outside. I hadn’t even realized how much darkness had crept into the cabin. Rain slams violently against the windows like the mountain itself is trying to break in. “We’re not leaving until morning,” he says. The reality settles strangely in my chest. One cabin. One couch. One emotionally repressed werewolf with an unfair face card and a hero complex I’ve only just discovered. The universe truly has a sick sense of humor. Damon stands again immediately after finishing, already moving toward the far side of the cabin. “What are you doing now?” I ask. “Checking the perimeter.” I stare at him. “The perimeter?” “Yes.” “We’re inside.” “That doesn’t stop threats from existing.” “Carylon,” I deadpan, “if a serial killer survives this weather just to target us specifically, I might honestly let him.” “That attitude is exactly why you n

A different kind of Predator

I blink twice. Then stare at the door for several seconds, incredulous. I half expect Damon to walk right back in. He doesn’t. The fire crackles softly behind me as rain lashes against the cabin walls. I wait. And wait. And wait. Soon, I can’t sit still anymore. I have no idea how long Damon has been outside, but it feels too long. I push myself carefully off the couch, testing my weight against my ankle. Pain flares immediately. But not nearly as badly as before. Whatever Damon used on it works disturbingly well. I grab one of the thicker blankets from the pile near the fire and wrap it tightly around myself before limping toward the door. The cold wind hits me instantly when I step outside. Almost sharp enough to cut. And wet enough to sink through fabric within seconds. The storm has weakened slightly, but the clouds overhead still churn angrily across the sky. Which is not comforting. At all. Darkness stretches between the trees in uneven shadows

Not Dead

With my hands and feet, I crab-walk backward, my eyes never leaving his. Even though I was there that day with Rhoda and Mason… Even though I witnessed Damon straining at the edges of his control… I have never seen this. He was practically draining the Greyhorn dry. Its blood. I have never seen anything like it before. And I don’t think I ever want to again. Slowly, I move again. Foot. Hand. Foot. Damon’s eyes track every movement. His breathing comes out in ragged puffs against the rain, chest rising and falling heavily beneath his soaked shirt. He has abandoned the Greyhorn completely now. His attention is fixed entirely on me. That is definitely not a comforting development. Blood drips from the corner of his mouth, streaking down his jaw and disappearing into the collar of his shirt. Rain mats his dark hair across his face. And somehow that makes the whole thing worse. How did he go from overbearing Alpha to feral creature in less than a day?

Well, this is interesting

His gaze drops to my throat. And every muscle in my body locks instantly. The rain suddenly feels freezing against my skin. Damon’s breathing roughens above me, chest rising sharply beneath his soaked shirt as his eyes stay fixed on the pulse fluttering frantically beneath my throat. Oh Goddess. This is bad. This is very bad. I try to pull my wrist free on instinct. His grip tightens immediately. Not painful. Just enough to stop me from moving. Then slowly— Far too slowly— He lowers his head. My breath catches violently. “Carylon,” I whisper. No response. His nose brushes lightly against the side of my throat. Like he’s breathing me in. The contact sends panic crashing through me. Rain drips steadily from his hair onto my skin as his mouth hovers dangerously close to my neck. Then I feel it. Teeth. Barely grazing my skin. My entire body goes rigid. Oh Goddess. I squeeze my eyes shut immediately, bracing for pain. For tearing flesh. For blood. For something

Stop Saying That

The scarred wolf smiles. Wrong decision. The moment they move, Damon is on them. One second he is standing in front of me. The next, he crashes into the nearest wolf hard enough to send both of them through the rain and mud in a brutal blur of claws and snapping teeth. The sound is horrific. A body slamming into a tree. A crack. A scream cut short. The others lunge immediately. “Behind me!” Damon snarls. Like I was planning to casually join the werewolf fight with only one functioning ankle. No, thank you. I stumble backward, pain shooting violently up my leg as rain blinds my vision. Two wolves break away from the fight. Toward me. Fantastic. One grabs for my arm. Pure instinct takes over. I snatch the fallen tree branch near my feet and swing with everything I have left. The wood cracks hard against his jaw, but it’s not enough to seriously injure him. It just pisses him off. “Bad choice,” he growls. “Get in line,” I shoot back breathlessly. He lunges again. I

Three questions

The cabin falls quiet again except for the storm outside. Rain lashes unevenly against the windows while I continue cleaning the cut across Damon’s back carefully. I can’t imagine being back out there in that cold again. I’d had enough freezing rain for one night, and I much preferred the company of the fire crackling in the fireplace. Any day. Any time. Gently, I drag the damp cloth along the edges of the wound. Most of his injuries had already started healing. This one hadn’t. The deeper part of the cut still looked raw and angry beneath the water and blood. “Why isn’t this healing?” I ask, dipping the cloth back into the bowl beside me. “The weapon used to make that cut was probably infused with wolfsbane.” I nod slightly before returning to my work. Damon’s shoulders remain rigid beneath my hands as I clean the wound. Not tense exactly. Braced. Like he’s waiting for it to hurt more. Like he’s still expecting punishment. Honestly, the man approaches s

My turn

“I’ll go first.” I step in front of Damon, reaching past him to tear a strip of fabric for his bandage. He watches me like he’s bracing for impact. I pause for a moment, considering my questions. There are too many. They’ve been circling my mind ever since he returned from the Winter Pack. Ever since our bargain. Ever since I saw that darkness in his eyes the night he disappeared for three entire days. I want to know what changed. The same person who once made it painfully clear I was inferior for being human now speaks about balance between wolves and humans like it actually matters to him. And even more confusing? Why did he choose me of all people for this arrangement? This performance of mateship? We’ve never liked each other. Even now, even with the bond between us, none of this should make sense. He could have chosen any other human. Literally anyone else would have agreed willingly. Even though it would just be pretence. No resistance. No arguments.

Gold and Rainbows

I stare at him, surprised he would waste one of his questions on something like that.Of all the things he could have asked...It wasn't that.I'd thought he would come up with something better. Braced my self for it even.Instead, he'd chosen the one thing I'd never given much thought.How many times had I called him Carylon instead of Damon?Hundreds.Maybe thousands.Somewhere along the way it had stopped being a decision and simply became... habit."Seriously?""You said honest answers.""That doesn't mean they have to be strange questions."Damon says nothing.Just waits patiently.Patiently enough that I realize he isn't asking out of curiosity.He genuinely wants to know.I sigh dramatically."At first, I did it because I hated you," I admit. "And to me, enemies weren't supposed to be familiar with each other in any way."One of his brows lifts slightly."Well," I mutter, "you were deeply unlikeable, so I stand by my decision."A faint flicker of amusement touches his face befo

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