Chapter 2 dangerous desires

Night fell over the Moonshade Pack’s territory, casting the forest and the pack house in deep, shifting shadows. Lila sat by her window, staring into the distance where the dark woods swallowed the moonlight. The events of the previous night lingered heavily in her mind. The rogue attack had been terrifying, but it wasn’t the blood or the danger that haunted her.

It was him. Damon.

No matter how cold and distant he was, something about him drew her in, primal and magnetic. She hated herself for it. Her heart shouldn’t race when he was near, not after the way he had spoken to her. His voice, cold and cutting, had been meant to push her away, and yet all she could think about was how his very presence consumed the air around her.

She closed her eyes, but the image of him from the fight returned. His wolf form had been enormous and powerful, moving with lethal grace. And when he had shifted back into his human form, standing tall in the moonlight, blood streaking his chest, his expression had been utterly unyielding. There had been no softness, no warmth—only raw, unrelenting strength.

Her cheeks burned at the memory. Damon’s coldness should have repelled her, but instead, it made him all the more irresistible. He was a force of nature, untouchable and unrelenting, and yet her body betrayed her, responding to him in ways she couldn’t control.

“Stop it,” she whispered to herself, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks. “He doesn’t want you. He’s made that perfectly clear.”

But her thoughts refused to obey. Damon was everything she had ever wanted—strong, capable, and fiercely protective, even if his protection came with a blade of disdain. She had loved him from afar for so long, but being close to him was a different kind of torment.

A knock at the door startled her, pulling her from her spiraling thoughts.

“Come in,” she called, her voice unsteady.

The door opened, and there he was. Damon stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the space. He was dressed simply, a black shirt stretched across his muscular chest and jeans that clung to his tall, powerful frame. His gray eyes were sharp and calculating, taking her in with a single sweep.

“You’re hard to find,” he said, his voice low and firm.

Lila’s pulse quickened, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. “What do you want?”

“I came to warn you,” he said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. The air seemed to shift with his presence, thickening and crackling with tension. “The rogue attack wasn’t random. There’s been movement near the borders. You need to be more cautious.”

Lila arched an eyebrow. “And you think telling me that in the middle of the night is necessary?”

His jaw tightened, and he took another step closer. The scent of him—pine, musk, and something darker—wrapped around her, making her heart race.

“It is,” he said curtly. “Because apparently, you think wandering into the woods alone is a good idea.”

Heat flared in her chest, equal parts anger and embarrassment. “I didn’t go looking for trouble, Damon.”

His lip curled slightly, and he took another step closer, his towering frame nearly eclipsing her seated figure. “Trouble doesn’t care what you’re looking for, Lila. You’ll find it all the same. And next time, I might not be there to pull you out of it.”

His words stung, but what stung more was the way his voice, though cold, made her shiver for entirely different reasons. She hated how her body responded to him, how every fiber of her being seemed to come alive in his presence.

“I didn’t ask for your protection,” she said, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound strong.

Damon’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, his cold mask slipped. There was something else in his gaze, something dangerous and unspoken. It vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual steely detachment.

“Good,” he said, his tone clipped. “Because you’re not going to get it.”

He turned toward the door, but before he left, he paused. “Stay out of the forest, Lila. Next time, you might not be so lucky.”

The door closed behind him with a resounding finality, leaving her alone with the storm he always seemed to bring.

Lila let out a shaky breath, her hands trembling as she clutched the arms of her chair. His words replayed in her mind, but it wasn’t his warning that consumed her thoughts. It was the way he looked at her, the fleeting flicker of something raw in his gaze that hinted at the man hidden beneath the cold exterior.

She stood and crossed the room to her bed, collapsing onto the soft mattress. The night felt heavier than usual, and her thoughts refused to settle. No matter how much she told herself to hate him for his coldness, her traitorous heart yearned for him. And it wasn’t just her heart—her entire body ached for him in ways she didn’t fully understand.

She pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks, her thoughts spiraling. Damon was a storm she couldn’t escape, and the more he pushed her away, the deeper she seemed to fall into his pull. His power, his dominance, his presence—they overwhelmed her, yet she craved them.

The memory of his voice, low and rough, sent a shiver down her spine. She had spent years loving him from afar, dreaming of the day he might notice her. Now, she was his wife in name, but the walls he had built around himself made her feel farther away than ever.

Yet even as doubt clouded her resolve, another feeling burned brighter—determination. Damon might have locked his heart away, but Lila wasn’t ready to give up. There was something between them, even if he refused to acknowledge it.

And as the moonlight poured into her room, bathing her in its glow, she made a quiet vow. She would find a way to break through his walls, no matter how long it took. Because beneath the coldness, she believed there was a man worth fighting for—a man who might one day feel for her what she had always felt for him.

But as she drifted off to sleep, one thought lingered in the back of her mind. The rogue attack wasn’t random. Damon knew more than he was saying, and the darkness she had seen in his eyes wasn’t just the weight of his cold demeanor—it was the shadow of a se

cret, one that might be far more dangerous than she realized.