Page 10 of Howl For A Kiss
Kieran's exhale crackled through the phone connection. "Fifteen years without showing interest in any female, and you find your mate in a hybrid rebellion leader. Your timing is spectacularly inconvenient."
"I didn't choose this," Damon replied, though relief flooded through him at Kieran's shift in tone. "But I can't walk away from her."
"The Council will crucify you if they discover you're protecting her," Kieran warned. "Your position as Beta, your reputation, everything you've built—it'll all burn."
Damon thought of Elena's tears, her courage in the face of overwhelming odds, and the electric connection that made his wolf sing with completion. Some things were worth burning for.
"I'll keep posing as a Silvercrest rebel fighter," Damon said. "Keep my identity as Beta hidden while I protect her. She doesn't know what I am yet."
"This deception won't hold indefinitely," Kieran cautioned. "Eventually, you'll have to tell her the truth about your position. And about the mate bond."
Excitement and nervousness warred in Damon's chest at the prospect of spending extended time with Elena. His entire adult life had been structured around duty and pack hierarchy. The thought of existing in her world, even temporarily, felt like stepping into sunlight after decades underground.
"Two weeks tops," Kieran decided. "That's all I can give you before the pack starts asking questions. And Damon? Don't make me regret this."
"Thank you," Damon said, gratitude making his voice rough.
"Just be careful. Fated mates make us do stupid things," Kieran said bluntly.
The line went dead. Damon stared at his phone for a moment before heading back toward the cavern where Elena waited. His heart hammered with anticipation and terror in equal measure.
His mate was a hybrid rebellion leader with a target on her back the size of the sun. She didn't know he was the Beta of the most powerful pack in the four territories. And she certainly didn't know they were destined to be together.
This was going to be complicated.
FIVE
ELENA
Elena pressed her forehead against her drawn-up knees as she struggled to regain her composure after realizing she's a hybrid. The cavern walls seemed to close in around her with the revelation of her father's deception. Twenty-eight years of lies. Twenty-eight years of believing she was something she wasn't.
The sound of approaching footsteps made her lift her head. Damon emerged from the shadows, his tall frame filling the narrow passage as he moved with that predatory grace she'd noticed earlier. His green eyes immediately locked onto her huddled form, and something shifted in his expression—a softening that made her chest tighten unexpectedly.
"Elena." He crossed the distance between them in three swift strides before dropping to one knee beside her. His tactical jacket hung open over his thermal henley, revealing the defined contours of his broad chest beneath the black fabric.
"I'm fine," she said automatically, though her voice cracked on the words.
"No, you're not." His blunt honesty cut through her facade. "And that's understandable given what you've just learned."
Elena studied his face, searching for pity or disgust but finding neither. Instead, his angular features held a burning intensity that made her wolf—her newly awakened wolf—preen with satisfaction.
"Your phone call," she said, desperate to focus on something other than the way her body responded to his proximity. "Everything fine with your rebel group?"
"Yeah, everything's fine. I was just making sure Logan and Zoe got back to our pack territory. And thankfully they did," Damon replied, settling more comfortably beside her on the rocky ground. "But there's something more important than that. I want to help you, Elena. Your rebel group needs support now more than ever."
Elena's tactical mind immediately went on high alert. "Help how, exactly?"
"As your new second-in-command."
His words almost knocked the wind out of her. She jerked back slightly, her shoulder holster's leather creaking against the cavern wall.
"You've known me for all of one hour," she said, incredulous. "Tyler's barely been dead three days, and you think you can just walk in and take his place?"
Damon's jaw tightened at her sharp tone, but his voice remained steady. "I watched you handle yourself brilliantly today during that ambush. But you're operating with a massive target on your back now, and you need someone with my particular skill set."
"Your particular skill set," Elena repeated flatly. "Which is what, exactly? Looking brooding and mysterious?"
A ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. "Among other things."
