Chapter 230 230
Damien POV
I wait until the office door clicks shut behind us before I turn to face Aurélie.
She can feel it my anger, coiling tighter by the second. The absolute bastard. Living off a girl’s fortune he never earned. Spending her money as if it were his birthright. Worse, keeping her wolf locked away in the darkest corners of her mind so she had no strength, no voice, no ally. He isolated her completely.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d killed her mother too.
“Now we know how he’s been funding the attacks. And the followers…” Aurélie exhales, leaning back against the door.
Her head tilts, resting against the wood, her throat exposed. My mark—our mark on display.
Every time I see it, my wolf surges forward, a powerful flood of need and emotion crashing through me. He wants her to mark us again, to seal us properly. But I failed Aurélie once. I won’t do that again.
I wasn’t truly present at our wedding mentally gone, drowning in everything I hadn’t dealt with. The ceremony we planned now is my way of fixing that. Of doing right by her.
“Shitting hell, sweetheart two hundred million?” I scrub a hand over my face. “No wonder he was so eager to hand the pack over to me. I always thought I’d have to fight him for it. Thought I’d have to defeat him in some bloody Alpha challenge. That’s why I trained so hard. It all makes sense now.”
“She’s six years younger than you,” Aurélie says quietly. “Which means he was with her mother while your mum was still alive.”
She steps closer, clearly expecting the revelation to shake me.
It doesn’t.
I always knew he cheated.
Aurélie’s parents loved each other. Mine didn’t at least not both ways. Mum loved him. He never loved her back. She just didn’t realize it until it was too late.
“We need a plan,” Aurélie says gently. “What do you want to do?”
“Fuck knows.”
“Language, Damien.” She clicks her tongue in disapproval.
Perfect timing to want a cigarette.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” I mutter, opening my desk drawer and pulling out my last pack. I was trying to quit but every time I made progress, something like this detonated my resolve.
“Without the medicine, she’ll start shifting soon,” Aurélie continues. “Her wolf might be damaged from being suppressed for so long. We need to help her.”
“She could be unstable,” I reply carefully. “I won’t risk the children. I can’t.”
I check the time on my phone past midnight.
Aurélie looks slimmer than usual. Too slim.
Is she pushing herself too hard?
“Have you eaten?” I ask, closing the distance between us and pulling her into my chest, my arms wrapping around her automatically.
“No. I woke up and you were gone. I came straight here.”
She’s exhausted. She’s hungry. How could you let her get like this?
My wolf snarls inside my head.
He’s right.
She’s going into heat I can smell it now. Her scent has shifted, grown sweeter. More intoxicating.
Ready to carry pups again.
Maurice POV
“Mark her.”
My wolf’s voice is sharp, commanding.
“Shut up.”
“Mark her. She’s going to run.”
“She’s not.” I shove him forcefully out of my mind.
“Are you okay?” she asks softly. Her voice is sweet, threaded with a husky edge. “You look like you’re in pain.”
My hand is still wrapped around hers, yet my wolf remains restless unsatisfied, pacing beneath my skin.
Her eyes are mesmerizing. Large, round, grey…with a faint yellow slit cutting through them. Like a cat’s.
Her scent is still muted, but it’s growing stronger with each passing hour.
It’s just the two of us in the room. I have a feeling she prefers Bee. I don’t know why I just know.
Her body is subtly drifting closer to mine. Even without her wolf fully present, the pull of the mate bond still hums between us. A quiet, undeniable force.
I want to mark her. Desperately. I want to feel her emotions through the bond, to know her fears, her truths.
But for now, I’ll have to learn her the human way.
“Did you know your father when you were young?” I ask.
Knowing Gaston, the answer is obvious. He and my father were once allies friends, even until my dad refused to join the Bloodnight alliance. That was when Gaston showed his true nature. Ruthless. Merciless.
“No,” she says. “It was just Mum and me for a long time. I was pretty independent even then. I had my own bank account. Friends. A boyfriend…”
“A boyfriend?” I echo sharply. “At twelve?”
She smiles faintly. “It was just a friendship.”
Then her expression dims.
“Then Father took over everything. Said I didn’t need to worry anymore. My friends drifted away… maybe I was too sad for them.” Her voice softens. “She was my everything.”
She frowns, her gaze dropping to our joined hands.