Chapter 30 – The Alpha Was Never Hers

The single word sliced through the air like a claw.

Damon flinched. “Do you even know who he is?” he burst out, losing his restraint. “Magnus Sanchez-the Shadowbane Alpha! He’ll bring danger to your pack!”

“So what?” Her tone was flat, calm as moonlight.

“You’ve trespassed in my den, Alpha Damon,” she said evenly.

From behind, Magnus gave a low laugh, tapping his fingers against the table-each tap a pulse of quiet amusement.

“Alpha Damon?” Damon echoed, stricken. “You call me that now? After twenty years?”

Magnus tilted his head, his smile sharp as a blade. “Twenty years, and still managed to lose what was yours. Pathetic.”

Damon didn’t look at him. His focus was all on Aysel. “Aysel, please. Let’s leave this place. I won’t ask about him. I won’t bring up the past. I’ll stay with you-no Celestine, no one else. I swear it. Let’s start again.”

His voice broke. The proudest Alpha of the East was begging.

But Aysel’s heart was stone now.

“I never did this to provoke you. Don’t flatter yourself.” Her eyes were glacial. “Don’t speak as if I still belong to you.”

He refused to hear. He couldn’t. The thought that she had truly chosen another male was unbearable.

“You’re lying,” he rasped. “He’s forcing you, isn’t he? You don’t have to be afraid. Even the Shadowbane can’t touch the Blackwoods. Come with me-“

SLAP!

The sound cracked through the air like thunder.

Her palm left a bright mark on his cheek.

“I didn’t want to hit you,” she said coldly. “But you wouldn’t stop.” Her voice was low, sharp as a growl. “This isn’t about Magnus. Damon Blackwood, wake up. We’re over. You have no right to claim me.”

He stood stunned, unable to move.

Magnus’s amused chuckle broke the silence. “Careful, Alpha. Don’t slander others. Aysel and I have always been quite… mutual.” His tone dripped with mockery. “Unlike certain ex-mates who can’t take a hint. Tell me, how’s Celestine Ward these days? Recovering well enough that you finally had time to barge in here?”

“Stay out of this!” Damon snarled, every vein standing out, the urge to shift burning under his skin. “If you want females, pick anyone-but not her! She’s my mate, my-“

Magnus’s eyes turned black with rage.

THUD!

The sound was thunderous. Damon’s body crashed into the wall by the door, the furniture rattling under the force.

Magnus had crossed the distance in a blur, his dominance exploding like wildfire. He moved like a beast that had slaughtered its way through battlefields-and Damon felt every ounce of that savagery.

Blood filled his mouth. His ribs screamed.

Magnus looked down at him without guilt, voice steady and cold. “Who said I was playing?” His eyes cut like steel. “Don’t insult me. And don’t insult her.”

He smiled faintly, cruelly. “Judge others by your own worth, Blackwood. It fits.”

Then he turned to Aysel, feigning innocence. “He was the one who barged in and insulted us. And apparently, he still calls himself your betrothed. How embarrassing.”

Third Person’s POV

Magnus hadn’t held back his strength-Damon was truly injured.

But the Alpha of the Blackwood Pack didn’t retreat. Instead, he fixed his bloodshot gaze on Aysel, his expression burning with something between desperation and hope.

“You see?” Damon rasped, wiping the blood from his mouth. “I told you he’s volatile-vicious and unpredictable. Stay with him, and who knows who he’ll hurt next? Aysel, leave him.”

Magnus’s expression darkened, the feral gleam in his eyes deepening until it was near lethal. The Alpha of the Shadowbane Pack looked every bit the predator he was born to be.

Annoying insect, his wolf growled in his mind. Feed him to the serpents. Rip that silver tongue from his skull and grind it to dust.

Murderous intent licked at the air, heavy with

Alpha dominance.

But just as that tension threatened to ignite, Aysel moved.

Her brows furrowed, her back turned to Magnus as she slowly approached the bleeding man on the floor.

Damon’s heart flared with new light.

He played his part, voice trembling. “Aysel… I’m hurt.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie-blood stained his lips, his ribs throbbed from the impact.

Magnus’s hands clenched, his knuckles cracking. His wolf prowled restlessly beneath his skin, furious.

Scheming bastard.

Just as Aysel was about to kneel beside Damon, Magnus’s low, hoarse voice broke the air.

“Aysel,” he said, tone deceptively calm, “your soup’s getting cold.”

The faintest tremor lingered under the words-a mixture of restraint, resignation, and the ache of a predator willing to lose everything.

But Aysel didn’t stop. She kept walking.

Magnus’s pupils dilated, a storm gathering behind them.

The two men held their breath as she drew near.

Damon’s eyes glimmered with hope of reconciliation.

Magnus’s, however, had gone darker than night.

And then-she stopped.

Instead of reaching for Damon, Aysel turned to the side, bent down, and picked up a small carved wooden cat that had fallen near the cabinet.

She blew the dust off gently. “Good. It’s only wood,” she muttered, then turned and glared at Magnus, eyes sharp. “If it had been porcelain, you’d be done for.”

Magnus blinked-then laughed. The darkness melted from his face, replaced by something bright and wolfishly fond. “I’ll buy you a hundred of them.”

His grin was warm, genuine-the kind of smile that belonged to a man who had almost lost everything a moment ago.

Damon’s world, in contrast, collapsed.

His face went pale; disbelief twisted through every muscle. In her eyes, he wasn’t even worth a carved trinket.

He had seen Magnus strike her, had seen violence-how could she still speak to that wolf with such easy calm, even with that teasing tone that sounded almost… affectionate?

No. It wasn’t right.

Pain hollowed him out from the inside.

“Aysel,” he tried again, his voice trembling. “I’m hurt.”

She placed the cat gently back where it belonged, her tone flat and distant. “Oh.”

“If you’re injured, go to the healer,” she said, meeting his gaze without emotion. “And don’t come back.”

The sound of his heart breaking was almost audible.

Magnus walked over, his steps heavy with dominance, and grabbed Damon by the collar. “Apologies,” he said with a polite smile. “Aysel still has soup to finish. We won’t be seeing you out.”

He shoved the other Alpha out the door and closed it behind him with a firm click.

Aysel didn’t try to stop him.

The light in Damon’s eyes went out completely.

The wounds on his body burned, but they were nothing compared to the agony hollowing his chest.

He stumbled down the stairwell, half-blind, like a fallen wolf cast out from his own territory, craving the warmth of the den he could no longer enter.

Bless them? he thought bitterly. No.

He didn’t believe Magnus capable of love. That kind of beast couldn’t know what it meant.

Let go?

That would be the same as tearing his own heart out.

Outside, the rain kept falling, merciless and cold.

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