Tasha was shaking. Her whole body was curled inward like she was trying to fold herself up and disappear.
“You heard what my Luna said,” Damon growled, his voice vibrating through the walls like thunder shaking the bones of the house. “She doesn’t want you here. She doesn’t want Camilla here. And what she says in this house is final. She is the Luna of this pack. Her word is law.”
I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until he said that. Luna. Final. Law. The words slid over my skin like lightning and lust and power, and I swear I almost came standing right there.
“I have several mansions,” Damon continued coldly. “You can pick one. I’ll have it ready before nightfall. But this one? It’s hers now.”
Tasha let out a low, animal sound-somewhere between a sob and a scream-and then she looked at me.noveldrama
Straight at me.
And in her eyes, I saw it. Not sadness. Not shock.
Hatred.
“You ruined my family,” she whispered, and her voice sounded broken now. Not from crying. From fury. “I swear to the fucking Moon Goddess, Lyra-you are going to pay. You hear me? You are going to fucking pay. Mark my words. Read my fucking lips.”
I didn’t speak. I just stared.
She stepped forward again.
“We go to the same school, remember?” she hissed. “And you think this ends tonight? You think I’m done? You don’t know what’s coming. I’ll make sure everyone hates you. I’ll ruin you. You’ll choke on everything you stole from me. You’ll bleed for what you’ve done.”
And that’s when Damon snapped again.
This time, he didn’t slap her.
He grabbed her by the throat.
One-handed. His claws retracted just enough not to cut, but the grip-oh God, the grip-lifted her straight off the floor until her feet weren’t touching the ground. Her hands clawed at his wrist, her mouth open in a choked gasp, eyes wide and panicked. “Don’t you ever threaten her again,” he snarled, and his voice was so deep it didn’t even sound like a man anymore-it sounded like a beast trying to hold back slaughter. “Not in my house. Not in front of me. Not with that tongue you used to call me father.”
Camilla screamed his name. Useless. Powerless.
“And if you lay a single finger on her,” Damon growled, still holding her in the air like she was weightless, “if you touch a single strand of her hair, if I even smell your hate near her skin-I will forget you are my daughter. I will forget you were ever mine. And I will destroy you.”
Tasha was gasping. Her face turning red. Her legs kicking. Her mouth making these tiny strangled sounds like she couldn’t breathe.
And me?
I was soaked.
Like dripping. Like my thighs were wet. Like I couldn’t tell the difference between heat and fear and arousal anymore because watching him protect me like that made my body ache.
And I wasn’t scared. I was proud.
Tasha was still gasping, still cradling her scratched-up face, still shaking in Camilla’s arms like her bones had cracked from the inside out.
And when Damon finally let go of her neck and stepped back, letting her drop to the floor with one last choking breath, she didn’t scream again. She didn’t fight. She just looked at me.
Her eyes locked on mine.
And there was nothing left in them but pure, vengeful, silent rage.
She stared at me like she could peel me open with a thought. Like she wanted to skin me alive and wear my heart as a trophy. Like every tear in her body had burned off and all that was left was hate.
And then she muttered something under her breath.
Too quiet for me to catch it completely.
She stood up slow, her body shaking, her hair falling into her face, and then she turned to Camilla, her voice hoarse and hard and laced with acid.
“Let’s go, Mum.”
Camilla looked stunned for a bit. But she reached out, grabbed Tasha’s arm, and without saying another word to either of us, they turned around.
And walked out. Fuck finally.
I was still smirking, then-he spoke.
Low.
Husky.
Hot enough to melt the floor beneath me.
“Come here, kitten.”
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