Chapter 28 Someone's in trouble

Chapter 28 Someone's in trouble
The drive back to the penthouse was a blur of neon lights and the heavy, intoxicating scent of Darius’s territorial rage. He drove like he was trying to outrun the very concept of patience, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.
By the time the elevator doors slid shut behind us, the silence in the penthouse was vibrating. I kicked off my heels—the "Riley" disguise was officially dead and buried—and turned to face him.
"You’re brooding, Darius," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "It’s a very Alpha look, but it’s getting a little old. I told you, I had it under control."
Darius didn't stop. He stalked toward me, his presence filling the massive living room until I was backed up against the cold marble of the kitchen island. He slammed his hands down on either side of my hips, trapping me.
"You had it under control?" he repeated, his voice a low, dangerous velvet. "Calla, your eyes were silver. You were half a heartbeat away from shredding a human in a room full of cell phones. And why? Because some mediocre accountant thought he could put his hands on what belongs to me."
"I don't belong to you," I shot back, though my heart was traitorously thumping against my ribs. "I’m a free agent, remember? Prophesied destroyer? Fake fiancée? Or did you forget about the little detail where I’m legally and biologically tied to my brooding stepbrother?"
Darius leaned in, his nose brushing against mine. "Lucas isn't here. And the mate bond is a cosmic accident. What I feel when I look at you? That’s a choice." He lowered his head, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. "I can’t stand it. Seeing another man’s hands on you... it makes me want to burn this entire city to the ground just to make sure you’re the only thing left standing."
"That’s... incredibly dramatic," I whispered, even as I reached up to grab the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer. "And slightly toxic. We should probably work on your communication skills."
"This is me communicating," he murmured.
He kissed me then, and it wasn't the playful challenge from the parking lot. This was desperate. It was the sound of all my defenses crumbling at once. I dragged him closer, my legs wrapping around his waist as he hoisted me up onto the marble counter. The cold stone was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off his body.
Darius’s hands were everywhere—tracing the curve of my waist, tangled in my hair, pulling me flush against his hard chest. Every touch felt like a revelation. With Lucas, the bond felt like a heavy chain, a 'should' that hung over my head. But with Darius? This was a 'want.' It was messy, it was forbidden, and it was the most real thing I had ever felt.
"Darius," I breathed against his lips, my fingers digging into his shoulders.
He groaned, his mouth moving down to the sensitive line of my throat. "Tell me to stop, Calla. Tell me now, or I’m not letting you go until morning."
"Don't you dare stop," I said, my wit finally failing as the sheer intensity of the moment took over. I wanted to forget the Council, the prophecy, and the silver wolf lurking under my skin. I just wanted this man.
His hands slid under the hem of my sweater, his palms hot against my skin, sending a jolt of pure electricity through me that made my wolf howl in approval. He was an Alpha in every sense of the word—dominant, sure, and entirely focused on my pleasure. He nipped at my shoulder, his teeth grazing the skin in a way that made me see stars.
"You're mine," he whispered against my skin, a vow and a threat all in one. "To hell with the bond. To hell with the King. You’re mine."
And for the first time, I believed him. I felt the shift in my soul—a realization that the "Third Choice" wasn't just a prophecy. It was him.
I arched my back, pulling him deeper into the kiss, my heart screaming with a clarity I’d never known. I was falling for him. Not because of destiny, but because of the way he looked at me like I was the sun and the moon combined.
But just as the world began to dissolve into heat and friction, it happened.
A white-hot spike of agony lanced through my brain. It wasn't my pain—it was an echo, a jagged, psychic scream that tore through the mate bond like a serrated blade.
I gasped, my body jerking violently in Darius’s arms. My hands flew to my chest, gasping for air as the room tilted. The sensation was unmistakable: cold iron, blood, and a crushing sense of despair.
"Calla?" Darius pulled back, his eyes wide with sudden alarm, his hands steadying my trembling shoulders. "What is it? What's wrong?"
I couldn't even answer. I choked on a breath, my vision flickering with images of gray stone walls and shadows. The bond was pulsing with a rhythmic, sickening throb of pure torment.
"Lucas," I managed to choke out, my eyes snapping open, glowing a frantic, terrifying silver. "Darius...
Lucas is in trouble.”