Chapter 9: A Wolf’s Claim
The battle was over in seconds.
Damian moved like a shadow with teeth, pure and brutal grace. A blur of black fur and snarling fury. One moment, the rival lunged, and the next, he was flat on the earth, pinned beneath gleaming fangs and raw dominance. The sound of his whimper cracked through the night like a branch snapping underfoot before he slunk away, tail tucked, disappearing into the dark forest’s embrace.
He didn’t kill him.
That realization struck Isla like a blow to the chest. Damian could have done so easily. He had every opportunity and every reason to do so. But he’d chosen restraint and had controlled savagery. It was more terrifying than bloodshed, much more intimate and precise. Like a predator who knew exactly how much force to use and when to hold back.
Her breath fogged the glass as she pressed her trembling palm to it, the cool pane grounding her against the heat building deep inside.
The black wolf lifted his head and sniffed the air.
Then, those silver eyes. They snapped to hers like twin blades catching moonlight, their gaze sharp, intelligent, and aware. But there was something darker reflected in them, something feral..hunger.
Her knees went weak. Her breath hitched, throat tightening. He took a step toward her and then another, each movement predatory, inevitable.
“Oh, hell no,” she whispered. Isla stumbled backward, heart hammering against her ribs. But it was already too late.
All of a sudden, the window shattered.
Glass exploded inward like an icy wave, fragments catching the moonlight as they rained down around her. She barely had time to flinch. Her arms came up, instinctive, to shield her face, but the scream trapped in her throat never escaped because he was already there.
Not the wolf but the man.. and he was naked.
Damian’s body collided with hers like a lightning strike, raw heat, taut muscle and sheer power. His bare chest was searing against her thin shirt, his skin still hot from the shift. Every inch of him radiated animalistic strength, but his form was unmistakably human now: carved muscle wrapped in smooth, sun-bronzed skin that gleamed in the fractured moonlight.
She couldn’t look away. His body was sculpted like a warrior’s, broad shoulders, thick arms braced on either side of her head, trapping her between him and the wall. His chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, slick with a sheen of sweat. Every muscle was defined, his abs taut, ridged, flexing with the tension that rippled through him like a storm barely held at bay. Lower still, the sharp V of his hips disappeared into the shadow between their bodies, and she couldn’t help but feel the undeniable hardness pressing against her.
He was fire and earth, danger wrapped in flesh and he was hers. Somehow, impossibly, hers.
“Damian…”
“Say my name again.”
His voice was a growl, deep, rough and vibrating against her skin like thunder rolling through the mountains. It wasn’t a request. It was a command. A claim.
A tremor rippled down her spine. Her lips parted, but no sound came. Her body betrayed her, arching into him, craving the heat and weight of him. Her thighs clenched, breath catching, as his scent wrapped around her, earth, pine, smoke, and something darker and sinful..
“You saw,” he murmured, his mouth brushing her throat, his tongue flicking out, tasting her skin. Her breath hitched, and her hips bucked involuntarily against him. Her pulse jackknifed.
“Y-Yes.”
“And yet you stayed.”
He pulled back just enough for her to see his eyes, those storm-lit irises rimmed with shadows and need. “Why?”
Isla swallowed hard. Her body screamed for him, but her mind was a tangle of confusion. Nothing made sense anymore. Not her fear. Not her attraction. Not the overwhelming urge to surrender.
His fingers grazed her jaw, trailing heat in their wake, tilting her chin so her eyes met his.
“You feel it,” he breathed, his voice softer now, almost reverent. “Don’t you?”
Yes. God, yes.
It wasn’t just lust. It wasn’t even just him. It was a force older than memory, a bond deeper than logic. It lived in her bones. It burned in her blood.
Mate.
The word slid into her mind like a whisper carried on the wind and she knew. Even though she had no clue what that word meant.
Damian’s body tensed. A muscle jumped in his jaw. His fingers twitched where they gripped the wall. He had felt it too. Heard it in her mind like a calling. His lips hovered over hers, breath hot and ragged.
“Run now, Isla,” he whispered, a plea buried in his growl. “Because if you stay…”
Her heart stuttered. Her breath stalled.
“…the moment I kiss you,” he rasped, “you’re mine.”
Forever… and they both knew, she wasn’t going anywhere.