Page 44 of The Reaper's Vow
“The only value you have is your ability to breed. Damien will be Alpha to his pack. An Alpha needs a female of worth to be his Luna. Not a stray,” Leo adds, grinning like a fool who doesn’t know he’s already dead.
Before I can respond, Damien explodes into motion. His chair clatters to the floor as he lunges across the table, hand snapping around Matthew’s throat. Claws pierce skin in a flash of crimson.
“Say that again,” Damien snarls.
Chaos detonates. Leo surges upright, his wolf surfacing with a vicious snarl. Elias grabs for his brother, struggling to restrain him as the scent of aggression thickens the room. At the head of the table, Alpha Anselm remains perfectly still, watching it all with unnerving calm, his focus never wavering.
I feel Damien's rage like molten lava—pure, consuming fury at the insult to me. His wolf has taken control, and I can sense how close he is to shifting, to letting his beast tear Matthew apart for daring to call me damaged.
“Release my son, Reaper.” Alpha Anselm remains seated, his expression unreadable as he watches his son clutch his bleeding throat.
Damien's grip tightens for a heartbeat longer before he forces himself to let go. Matthew stumbles backward, hand flying to his bleeding throat as he glares at Damien with undisguised hatred. “You'll pay for that, you fucking dog.”
“Will I? Because from where I’m standing, you insulted the female under my protection. That’s grounds for challenge in any pack.”
“Yourtemporarybond,” Leo corrects. “Who just announced she intends to make it permanent. How...convenient.”
Shit. I’ve backed myself into a corner with that impulsive declaration. But in a room full of predators, it was the only move I had.
“I said sit down.” This time, there’s alpha command in Anselm’s voice, the kind of dominance that compels obedience from lesser wolves.
But Damien isn’t lesser. He’s the son of an alpha. For a heartbeat, I think he might challenge Anselm here and now over me.
I slide closer, my fingers curling around his arm. “Please.”
He looks down at me, and I see the exact moment his control reasserts itself. Damien takes his seat again, his movements stiff. His hand finds mine beneath the table, squeezing so hard it almost hurts.
Servants file in silently, breaking the tension as they place plates before each of us. The food looks incredible—eggs Benedict, fresh fruit, pastries arranged like artwork—but my stomach is too knotted to consider eating.
“Eat,” Anselm commands. “Food always helps cool hot tempers.”
Matthew glares at Damien from across the table, his hand still pressed to the puncture wounds on his neck. Leo watches us with interest while Elias looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.
I force myself to pick up my fork, spearing a piece of egg more to appease Anselm than from any desire to eat. Beside me, Damien doesn't touch his food.
“I spoke with your father this morning, Damien,” Anselm continues conversationally, as if his son wasn't just bleeding from claw marks. “Hudson sends his regards.”
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth.” Anselm cuts another piece of steak, chewing slowly as if savoring Damien's discomfort. “That his son has found his mate.
A slight smirk plays at Anselm's lips as he takes another bite, watching Damien's reaction closely. “Though he seems less than enthusiastic with the match, considering how hard he's been working to secure the DeLupo girl for you. But pack magic doesn't always make the logical choice, does it?”
I freeze, my fork suspended halfway to my mouth as the implications sink in. Damien was promised to someone else? Someone his father had chosen? A political match that I apparently disrupted.
“The DeLupo pack has significant territory in Oregon. Their only daughter is quite the prize. Pure bloodlines going back centuries. Trained from birth in pack politics. The perfect Luna for a future alpha.”
Each word is a knife sliding between my ribs. I set my fork down, suddenly unable to swallow past the lump in my throat. “I see.”
“Do you?” Anselm’s smile is thin, hollow of warmth. “I wonder if you truly understand what you’ve stepped into, my dear. Wolf politics aren’t for the faint of heart.” His attention drifts toward Elias, who has stayed silent through everything that’s unfolded this morning.
“For all we know, she'll run screaming when the full moon comes,” Matthew adds with a scowl.
“I meant what I said.”
“Is that so? And if it isn't completed—if you change your mind—I could certainly find a place for you here with my younger sons. Matthew seems quite taken with you already, despite his...colorful language.”
The room goes still. The temperature in the room drops ten degrees. Even Elias looks uncomfortable now.
