Page 89 of Aine

The back door slams as he enters the house, and I sit silently as I wait for him to leave again. If I knew he wouldn’t hunt me down and drag me back home, I’d try to make my escape when he’s busy in his office.

My hands clench into tight fists when I hear the light tapping on my door, and I turn my head away and pretend I don’t hear.

“I’m leaving soon,” Damien yells through the wood. “I’d love to see you before I go.”

I scoff. Does he really think I’m about to wish him goodbye before he leaves to slaughter my kind?

“Call it off,” I respond.

My voice is barely above a whisper, but I know he can hear it.

There’s silence for a long moment after I speak, the noise broken only by a quiet thud. I assume it’s him dropping his head against the door, but even the image of him slumped over, defeated, isn’t enough to pull me from my rage.

“Aine, please,” he says.

I open my mouth to respond, hesitating, before shutting it with a slight shake of my head. Silent tears stream down my cheeks as I return to bed and hide underneath the covers. He killed my family. He slaughtered everybody I’ve ever known and loved and is now going out to do it to some other poor woman.

I accidentally let out a sob as I remember the crying and begging of my father as our leader sentenced me to death. The sounds of Damien’s pleading cease at my escaped noise, and I know he’s listening to me mourn the loss of my family.

“I didn’t kill them.” His words are quiet as they travel through the door.

What? I’m not stupid. I saw his expression when I asked to see my parents, the way his lips pursed and his eyes shut. He killed them.

“They, well,” Damien starts, pausing before continuing. “Please open the door. I want to tell you this to your face.”

It’ll be a cold day in hell before I open this door for him.

“Tell me,” I demand.

There’s another thud, probably him tapping his forehead against the door, before I hear him suck in a deep breath. I pick at the skin of my fingers, anxiously waiting to hear what he has to say. Are they alive?

“Your old leader, Vik, had them killed immediately after your execution. My men found them hanging from the trees.” The knob jiggles as Damien tries to open the door.

I slide to the floor. What? No. There’s no way.

“What happened to Vik?” I ask.

My voice is hoarse, but I’m hardly in a state of mind to care. Vik killed them? Why didn’t Damien tell me this sooner? He must have known for months now. Was he just hoping I wouldn’t ever ask about my family. Selfish bastard.

“My men killed him,” Damien answers.

Good.

I struggle to breathe, and I tug at the neckline of my shirt as I hold back a sob. It’s too hot in here. My family is dead, and my mate is about to slaughter my kind for sport. This can’t be real.

“Call the hunt off,” I beg, desperate for him to listen to me just this once.

“I cannot. It’s too late.”

I hold my breath. It’s not too late. He’s the leader. All it takes is one order from him and my kind will be spared. If they want to hunt so badly, they can take down the large animals that live in the forest.

There are plenty of bears and elk.

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” I say.

The thud against the door repeats as he struggles with my words. I wonder how his beast feels about all of this, and if it backs his decision despite my pain. It’s probably encouraging him to go, both him and his beast monsters.

“We’re mates,” Damien eventually responds. “You’ll forgive me with time.”

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