Chapter 2 ii
The rogue attack had left a shadow over the pack. Warriors moved with grim determination, strengthening the borders, and whispers of a larger threat rippled through the ranks. Damon poured himself into his duties, coordinating patrols, analyzing weaknesses, and preparing for the worst. Work had always been his refuge, a distraction from the storm inside him.
But this time, it wasn’t enough.
No matter how many plans he laid out, no matter how many hours he spent in meetings or training sessions, one thought kept pulling him away.
Lila.
At first, it was her presence—her quiet strength, the way she carried herself with grace and dignity even when surrounded by warriors twice her size. He told himself it was natural to notice her. She was, after all, part of the pack now, and as Alpha, it was his duty to ensure everyone’s safety.
But it wasn’t just that.
It was the way her laugh, soft and fleeting, lingered in his mind long after he heard it. The way her scent—lavender and something warmer, something uniquely hers—wrapped around him whenever she was near. The way her wide, dark eyes held a mixture of defiance and vulnerability that made his wolf stir restlessly.
It was maddening.
Late one afternoon, Damon stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching the warriors spar. His intention had been to focus on their techniques, to distract himself with the familiar rhythm of combat. But his gaze kept straying, drawn to a figure on the far side of the field.
Lila stood near the garden, talking with Maren, one of the pack’s healers. She laughed at something Maren said, her face lighting up in a way that made Damon’s chest tighten. The sunlight caught in her hair, turning the chestnut strands into molten gold.
Damon leaned against a tree, his arms crossed, telling himself he was simply keeping an eye on her. But his wolf stirred, growling low in his chest, and Damon knew he was lying to himself.
His gaze lingered on the curve of her lips as she smiled, the way her dress hugged her figure, accentuating every soft line. His throat tightened, and heat coiled low in his stomach.
He closed his eyes, but that only made it worse.
Images flooded his mind—her body pressed against his, her breath warm against his skin as she whispered his name. He imagined the softness of her lips, the way her hands might feel gripping his shoulders, her voice trembling as she gave herself to him.
The vividness of it startled him. He opened his eyes quickly, as if the act of blinking would erase the thoughts.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered under his breath.
She wasn’t his mate.
Damon had spent years waiting for the bond—the electric connection that would tie him to the one destined for him. He’d heard stories of its intensity, of how it would hit like a lightning strike, leaving no room for doubt.
But with Lila, there was no bond. No pull beyond the physical, the maddening ache that consumed him whenever she was near.
It didn’t make sense.
He clenched his fists, forcing himself to look away. This wasn’t who he was. He didn’t lose control. He didn’t let himself feel this way—especially not about someone who wasn’t even his mate.
That evening, the pack gathered for dinner in the main hall. Damon sat at the head of the table, his expression carefully neutral as he scanned the room. He told himself he was looking for signs of unease among his people, but the truth was, he was waiting for her.
When Lila entered, it was as if the air shifted.
She wore a pale green dress that clung to her figure in ways that made Damon’s pulse quicken. Her hair was pinned back, exposing the graceful curve of her neck. He averted his gaze quickly, but her scent reached him—a heady mix of lavender and warmth that made it impossible to focus on anything else.
She took a seat a few spots down from him, smiling politely as she joined the conversation. Damon barely tasted his food, his appetite replaced by a gnawing tension.
Every laugh, every subtle movement drew his attention. He hated how attuned he was to her, how his wolf growled in frustration when someone else caught her smile.
When dinner ended, Damon escaped to his study, locking the door behind him. He leaned against it, his breath shallow as he tried to regain control.
“This is madness,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.
But no matter how much he tried to reason with himself, he couldn’t escape the truth. Lila had become a fire in his veins, consuming him from the inside out.
She wasn’t his mate. He told himself this over and over, as if repeating it would make the feelings go away. But the logic didn’t hold.
She felt like his.
The thought sent a jolt of panic through him. His wolf growled in agreement, a low, possessive sound that made Damon’s skin prickle.
“No,” he said aloud, his voice firm. “This isn’t real.”
The next day, Damon avoided Lila entirely. He spent hours training with the warriors, pushing his body to the brink in an attempt to drown out the thoughts that haunted him.
But by evening, he found himself near the garden where she often went to read. He told himself it was a coincidence, that he was simply checking the grounds. But when he saw her sitting on a bench, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, he knew it was a lie.
She was lost in her book, her brow furrowed in concentration. The sight made something inside him twist painfully.
For a moment, Damon allowed himself to watch her, to drink in the sight of her without restraint. She was beautiful, in a way that felt almost cruel.
And then, as if sensing his presence, she looked up. Their eyes met, and Damon felt the air between them shift.
“Damon,” she said softly, her voice laced with surprise.
He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay composed. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
Her lips curved into a small smile. “I’m safe. The patrols are thorough.”
“That’s not the point,” he replied, his tone harsher than he intended.
Her smile faltered, but she didn’t back down. “You’re always so quick to push me away,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with sadness. “Why?”
Damon didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
Instead, he turned and walked away, his wolf growling in protest.
But as he left, the memory of her lingered, her scent wrapping around him like a chain he couldn’t break. He didn’t understand why she affected him this way, why his body and wolf reacted as if she belonged to them when she wasn’t his mate.
The contradiction drove him mad, a constant reminder that Lila was a temptation he couldn’t afford. But no matter how far he tried to run, she was always there—pulling him back to a part of himself he didn’t want to face.
And Damon wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist.