Page 14 of Branded By Shadow
The thought sent a savage jolt of possessiveness through me. He’d seen her as a prize, a formula and a bloodline to be acquired. He would have treated her like a project, a negotiation. He wanted a trophy for his wall. He never would have survived the fire it took to claim her.
Cora shifted beside me, an unconscious movement that brought her closer instead of pulling away. Her hip brushed against my thigh, her skin soft and warm. The contact sent heat through every inch of my body, and my Alpha instincts purred in approval. Even asleep, her body sought mine.
“You actually stopped fighting,” I whispered, needing to hear the words aloud. “I didn’t think you would.”
This was what a successful claiming looked like. Not the violent submission I’d expected, but a peaceful surrender from relief. Her face had relaxed completely, the careful mask she wore finally discarded. Her fair skin glowed from satisfaction instead of fever.
Plants had grown toward us during our encounter, drawn by whatever energy successful claiming created. Delicate tendrils touched the edge of silk sheets, flowers turned in our directionlike faces seeking sun. Her divine abilities responded to contentment just as powerfully as they did to distress.
“She could be happy here,” I said quietly to the plants, to the shadows, to myself. “Given time.”
Settling back against the headboard, I let the thought settle in the oppressive quiet of the suite. For now, the predator in my chest, the part of me that always hunted, had gone quiet. The urge to conquer had cooled, replaced by a low, steady hum, the need to stand watch. To guard. She was mine to shelter, mine to provide for beyond the purely physical. It was a new feeling for one who had been raised to take, not to give.
This was peace. A fragile, temporary peace, but one I hadn’t realized how much I’d craved. And it was in that quiet moment of stillness that her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek.
“It stopped hurting.”
Anyone else would have probably been relieved at the realization. Cora was, too. But another emotion lingered in her simple words, the same frustrated defiance she’d displayed earlier.
It didn’t bother me. She was stubborn, yes, but that was part of her appeal. “The temporary bond will protect you,” I told her. A part of me wanted to claim her fully, but she wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.
She took another slow, shaky breath, her gaze drifting around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “My head... It’s so quiet. Did it really work?”
Her fear was a palpable thing in the air between us. I covered her trembling hand with mine. “Of course it did,” I said, unable to keep my satisfaction from my tone. “But you already knew that it would. Didn’t you, Dr. Ellis?”
Cora bit her lower lip and shuddered. After all the research she’d done on her suppressants, her knowledge of Omega biology was probably second to none. But I had no doubt that, on some level, she’d wanted me to fail.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen. I just… I don’t understand.”
“You will, in time. Your dormant legacy is confusing you, and that’s normal. If it helps, every Olympian struggles, one way or another.”
House Hades wasn’t an outlier in that respect. Every Olympian house had their secrets and problems. Mortals just weren’t meant to have god-like powers, and the gifts we’d received came at a heavy price. But for now, Cora didn’t have to be afraid of that.
I brushed my fingers over her cheek and was gratified when she didn’t immediately pull away. “Stop thinking so hard. The bond should hold at least a week. Rest. You deserve it.”
“I don’t think I do,” she murmured. “What’s the point of everything I’ve done if…?”
She trailed off, her self-deprecating words draining the last of her strength. Her eyes drifted closed again. She slumped against my shoulder, too exhausted to stay awake.
I found myself studying her face in profile, noting details I’d been too focused to appreciate before. The delicate arch of her eyebrows, the way her lashes twitched as she lay there, dreaming. The small scar near her left temple that suggested childhood accident rather than violence. She was beautiful when pain wasn’t twisting her features. This was who she really was. Brilliant, beautiful, stronger than any Omega I’d met.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she’d found relief in my arms. Once she processed everything, all the pieces of the puzzle would slide into place. She’d abandon this futile battle she was fighting.
The bedside clock shifted to 3:47 AM. Cora’s breathing stuttered.
The moment felt like a string snapping taut in a silent room. The low hum of her contentment, a quiet echo in my own blood, vanished. Cora went unnervingly still, her eyes flying open to fix on some internal horror I couldn’t see.
A look of profound bewilderment washed over her face, the peaceful lines of sleep tightening into a knot. “It’s gone,” she whispered, her voice a fragile thread in the darkness. “The quiet... it’s gone.”
She turned to me, a flash of accusation burning in her eyes. “What did you do?”
It wasn’t the first time she’d blamed me for her body’s natural responses. But now, unlike before, I had no answers. “Cora? What’s… What’s going on?”
She opened her mouth, perhaps intending to reply. But her words died on her lips, and she reached for her throat, shaking. That was when I saw it. The marks of the temporary claim had begun to glow, pulsing with a venomous, angry red light.
Cora twitched, her scent suddenly turning acrid with panic. “It’s hot,” she gasped, raking her nails across her own skin. “Burning. Damon, make it stop!”
The change was so sudden, so violent, that for a moment I couldn’t process what was happening. The tentative peace she’d accepted was nowhere to be found, replaced by a need even more desperate than before. Her pheromones filled the air, making my Alpha roar in protest.
