Damien’s POV 1


    The moment Sera walked away from me, something in my chest went tight and cold. I watched her push


    through the crowd toward the terrace doors, her shoulders rigid with the kind of tension that meant she was


    barely holding herself together.


    *Fuck.*


    I wanted to follow her. Every instinct I had was screaming at me to go after her, to pull her into my arms and


    fix whatever was broken. But she’d asked me not to follow, and I’d learned to respect that request over the past few months.


    Even when it killed me.


    “Damien?” Emma’s voice pulled my attention back to the immediate disaster. She was standing there looking


    mortified, her perfectposure finally cracked. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to-I had no idea she was your


    mate. I just assumed—”


    “You assumed wrong,” I said tly, not bothering to hide the ice in my


    voice.


    Emma flinched. “Of course. I can see that now. It’s just, without the mate bond scent, I thought–“”


    “Stop talking.”


    The words came out with enough alpha authority to make her step back involuntarily, her wolf instinctively


    recognizing the danger she was in. Smart woman.


    I was about to go after Sera when a familiar voice interrupted.


    “Damien, my boy!”


    I turned to see Henry approaching, one of the pack’s most senior members and Lucas’s great-uncle. The old


    man was built like a linebacker despite being in his seventies, his silver hair perfectly groomed and his


    expensive suit tailored to amodate his still-impressive frame.


    “Henry.” I forced a smile, though it felt like my face might crack from the effort. “Good to see you.”


    “Likewise, son, likewise.” He pped me on the shoulder with enough force to stagger a normal human.


    “Beautiful party, isn’t it? Young love and all that.”


    “Yes, Riley and Lucas seem very happy.”


    “They do indeed. Reminds me of myself at that age.” His pale blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “Speaking of


    which, I’ve been meaning to have a word with you about your own situation.”


    My stomach dropped. “My situation?”


    “Your bachelor status, of course!” Henry gestured around the crowded ballroom. “Look around, son.


    Everyone’s pairing off, settling down, building families. Even my great-nephew finally figured out how to


    propose to that lovely girl of his.”


    I really, really didn’t want to have this conversation. Not tonight. Not when Sera was somewhere outside,


    probably crying because of what just happened.


    “Henry, I appreciate.”


    “Now, I know you’ve been focused on pack business,” the older man continued, clearly not interested in being


    interrupted. “And that’s admirable. But a strong alpha needs a strong luna by his side. The pack expects it.”


    My jaw clenched so tight I thought my teeth might crack. “The pack expects what, exactly?”


    “A proper mating, of course! Pure bloodlines, strong offspring, all the traditional requirements.” He leaned


    closer, his voice dropping to what he probably thought was a conspiratorial whisper. “Between you and me,


    I’ve been wondering why there’s no mate scent on you. Are you having trouble finding a suitable female?”


    The urge to grab Henry by the throat and exin exactly why there was no mate scent was overwhelming.


    “I’m not looking for a mate right now,” I said carefully.


    “Nonsense!” Henry waved a dismissive hand. “Every alpha needs a luna. It’s the natural order of things. And I


    have to say, that Rodriguez girl has been making quite an impression tonight. Intelligent, attractive, excellent


    breeding…”


    My vision went red around the edges. “What did you just say?”


    “Emma Rodriguez,” He rified, apparently oblivious to the dangerous shift in my mood. “The kind of female who could be both luna and business partner. Very practical arrangement.”


    -11-22


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    My voice dropped to that lethal whisper that made grown wolves show their necks. “I already have a mate.”


    The old man blinked in confusion. “You do? But there’s no scent.”


    “I have a mate,” I repeated, each word precise and deadly. “I have a wife. I have two children. And if you


    suggest I abandon them for some ‘practical arrangement’ with anyone else, I will end this conversation in a


    way you won’t enjoy.”


    His face went pale as he finally registered the alpha power radiating from me. The air around us seemed to


    vibrate with barely contained violence, and I saw several nearby guests step back instinctively.


    “Of course,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean any offensea€””


    “Then don’t give any.”


    Without another word, I turned and stalked toward the terrace doors. Sera had been out there too long, and


    my patience for polite conversation had reached its absolute limit.


    But as I approached the French doors, I realized something was wrong. Very wrong.


    There were too many people gathered on the terrace. Too many voices raised in excitement or concern. And


    under it all, I could hear something that made my blood turn to ice.


    Sera’s voice. Quiet, strained, trying to calm someone down.


    I pushed through the crowd with enough force to send several guests stumbling, my enhanced senses


    immediately cataloging everything wrong with this scene. The sharp smell of spilled champagne. The glitter


    of broken crystal scattered across the stone. And there, in the center of it all—


    Sera.


    On her hands and knees in a puddle of champagne, her hair hanging in wet strands around her face, her


    dresspletely soaked. She was trying to push herself up but kept slipping on the wet stone, her purely


    human reflexes and strength failing her.


    The sight of her like that-vulnerable, humiliated, struggling-unleashed something primal in me that I’d


    never felt before. Not just anger. Not just protective fury. This was pure, undiluted rage that made my bones


    ache with the need to destroy something.


    “What happened?” I snarled, dropping to my knees beside her without regard for my own expensive suit.


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    “I’m fine,” Sera said quickly, but her voice was shaking. “It was an ident. The server tripped, and I just


    happened to be in the waya€””


    “Ma’am, I’m so sorry!” A young man in server’s uniform was hovering nearby, his face white with terror. “I


    didn’t see you there! I’m so sorry!”


    I barely nced at him. All my attention was focused on getting Sera off this damn terrace and away from all


    these staring faces. I could feel their gazes like physical weights, pressing down on us with curiosity and


    judgment and poorly concealed amusement.


    “Let me help you,” I murmured, sliding one arm around her waist and the other under her knees.


    “Damien, I can walk-”


    “No, you can’t,” I said firmly, lifting her against my chest with infinite care. “Your dress is soaked, and there’s


    ss everywhere.”


    “It’s fine,” Sera said quietly, probably trying to defuse the tension she could feel radiating from me. “Really, it


    was just an ident. Don’t me anyone.”


    I carried Sera through the ballroom, not caring about the wet champagne soaking into my suit or the way


    conversations stopped as we passed. All that mattered was getting her home, getting her safe, getting her


    away from all these people who looked at her like she was some kind of fascinating specimen.


    The car ride was silent except for the soft sound of Sera’s breathing and the hum of the engine. She sat


    pressed against the passenger door, staring out the window at the passing streetlights. Her hands were


    folded in herp, and I could see the tension in every line of her body.


    “Talk to me,” I said finally.


    “Nothing to talk about.” Her voice was carefully neutral. “It was an ident. People spill things. It happens.”


    “Sera.”


    “Really, Damien. I’m fine.”


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