Chapter 22

Arielle’s POV  

Dinner had become routine for us both and after that first awkward, teasing-filled meal, things between Damian and me… changed. We had managed to fall into an easy rhythm.

Damian kept showing up,which surprised me.

I had expected him to pull back, to return to his cold and very distant ways, but he didn’t. Every evening, he would arrive at my door, sometimes with food already in hand, or like the first time a tray had been set in my room but sometimes he would wait for me to follow him to the dining hall.  

Then we would have dinner with one another, he never spoke about why I was here, never explained what he had meant that night in the woods when he’d said it was ‘too late now.’ but for some reason, I found I wasn’t in a rush to demand answers.  

I should have demanded for answers, I know I should have– should have kept hammering him with questions, demanded to know what had changed, why he had rejected me and marked me despite that rejection. 

I knew he was keeping things from me and that behind those unreadable eyes, there were secrets lurking just beneath the surface. But as much as I wanted to demand answers, I also wasn't sure I wanted to hear them, wasnt sure that whatever was waiting on the other side of that truth was something I was ready for.  

I didn't fight too hard to leave either. 

Because despite everything, despite the betrayal, the pain, and the unanswered questions—I enjoyed his company.  

That was a very dangerous emotion. I knew that especially when I knew that once he had solved whatever it was that was bothering him right now, I would be sent away and forgotten. But yet, night after night, I found myself looking forward to the moment he would knock on my door maybe that was why, when he didn’t show up that night, I noticed immediately.  

At first, I told myself it didn’t matter he was likely just too busy and  this was for the best because I needed the reminder that whatever we had fallen into wasn’t real. But then I heard the shouting, for the second time in one day and it wasn't a quite argument either, whoever they were, they had decided to give it a proper go of it and were making all the noise possible and that was saying something because the walls of his estate were thick, the halls long but that didn't stop the sounds of raised voices—Damian’s included— from echoing all the way to my room.  

Something was definitely wrong but I wasn't sure if I needed to check it out myself, I hesitated for all of two seconds before slipping out of my room.  

The guards didn’t stop me, in the last few days since Damian allowed me to leave my room I had proven myself trustworthy—or at least not immediately scheming an escape—so they let me move freely within the estate now. That meant I could follow the sounds without much trouble, my bare feet barely made any sound against the cold stone floors as I made my way through the corridors.  This time, the commotion seemed to be coming from Damian’s office. The closer I got to them, the more I caught snippets of their conversation—harsh, clipped tones, the unmistakable growl of a dominant Alpha barely restraining his temper.  

“…Not ready yet.”  

“You don’t have time.”  

“She doesn’t need to know—”  My brows furrowed, was I the ‘she’ in question or was there some other omega roaming the halls. I edged closer, pressing myself against the wall near the door, but before I could catch anything more of what they were saying there was a loud banging sound —like a fist slamming against a desk—and then silence.  

A few seconds later, the door swung open.  

I barely had time to step back before a man I didn’t recognize stormed past me. He was older, maybe in his fifties, and he had a deep scowl carved into his face. 

His scent was unfamiliar, but I caught the sharp tang of another Alpha not as dominant as Damian but still better than a beta. 

His gaze flickered over me as he passed, but he didn’t say a word and neither did I, I just watched him go, then turned back to the open door.  

Damian was still inside. He stood behind his desk, his hands braced against the surface, shoulders tense. He didn’t notice me at first, his gaze locked on some document in front of him. But he knew I when he realized I was there, he stiffened more but relaxed a bit more and I could tell from the way his jaw clenched.  

I stepped inside.  

“You didn’t come to dinner.”  he exhaled sharply folding his palm into a fist. 

“I was busy.”  I folded my arms leaning against a chair.

“Clearly.”  

“Are you going to tell me what that was about, or should I start guessing?” His jaw clenched. 

"Go back to your room, Arielle.” I arched a brow. 

“That’s not an answer.”  he remained quiet and he didn’t look at me even once annoyance prickled beneath my skin. 

“Who was that?”  

“Someone you don’t need to worry about.” I scowled.

“Why do you always do that?” That finally made him glance up. 

“Do what?”  

“Evade.” I said as I took a step closer, ignoring the way my heart picked up in my chest.

“I ask you a question, and you give me half-answers. Or worse, you act like I don’t need to know anything.”  

“You don’t,” he said evenly.  

“That’s not your decision to make,” I snapped and his eyes darkened with irritation. 

“It is.”  

"I promised you freedom within this house. I never promised answers.” I exhaled, shaking my head. 

“Unbelievable.”  my patience was worn thin.

"You are unbelievable" I hissed turning on my heel, I made to leave the room, I really didn't want an argument of all things right now but before I could take another step, his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.  

Heat flared through my arm at the contact and I froze.  

“Arielle,” he said, his voice quieter now with an almost…pleading tone to it. I didn’t look at him. 

"Let go.” I hissed but he didn’t, his gripped tightened and I had to force myself not to melt in his arms all at once. I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering in my ears. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm—unwilling to let me walk away.  

Slowly, hesitantly I turned back to face him somehow, we were too close.  Close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from him, the sheer presence of him overwhelming my senses. His grip on my wrist loosened, but he didn’t pull away. 

Neither did I.  

His eyes flickered down to my lips just for a second but that second something shifted between us, it was enough to fill my gut and veins with heat. 

My breath hitched as his other hand came up, cupping my face I sucked in a sharp breath this was not something either of us were prepared for but b I could not stop myself from wanting. I was tilting my chin up, just a fraction— before I knew what I was doing.  He wasn’t touching me like a man who had rejected me.

He was touching me like a man who wanted me, like a man who had been starving for me. My fingers curled against his chest. 

"Damian…” He inhaled, his grip tightening ever so slightly. 

“Don’t say my name like that.”  

“Like what?”  

“Like you still feel it.”  he said and I paused, I knew what he meant, that heat between us from all the last time we spent together, I wasn't sure what to do about it or how to calm myself.

My heart lurched because I did feel it.  

That bond and connection and as much as I loved it, I hated it too, I hated that, despite everything, despite the rejection and the betrayal and the fact that I shouldn't put my trust in the mate bond my body still recognized him as mine.

I hated that, in this moment, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to slap him or kiss him.  

A muscle ticked in his jaw. 

“I shouldn’t want you,” he murmured. The words sent a bolt of heat through my veins and I swallowed hard. 

“Then don’t.”  

“This is a mistake.”  

“Then let go,” I whispered but his grip on me tightened and that was all the answer I needed.