Page 30 of Aine

“What other nice things has he done for you?” Damien continues, his tone condescending.

I shake my head.

“Nothing,” I quickly say, wondering if this is a trick question. “Sometimes he brings me water bottles, but he does that for everybody.”

Damien smiles. I’m not dumb enough to think his reaction is genuine, but my inability to pinpoint what exactly he’s feeling has my anxiety at an all-time high. I should have remained by the door to have this conversation, and I was stupid to trap myself in here with him.

“Everybody saw you touching him today,” Damien says, slowly rising from the bed.

The floorboards creak underneath his weight, and I gulp as he steps toward me. Our proximity makes me panicky, and I grip the seat of my chair in an attempt to still my shaking hands. Jenna’s assured me multiple times that Damien has no desire to hurt me, but I’m not sure if I believe that.

My shaking grows as he rounds my body and comes to a halt behind my chair.

I feel like a lamb being led to the slaughter, and my breath hitches as his hand comes in contact with my skin. His fingertips run along the column of my throat before sinking into my hair and pushing it to the side.

“I heard you promise him you’d go to dinner,” Damien whispers. “But tonight, you’ll be accompanying me.”

I spin to seek clarity on why he wants me to go to dinner with him, but the hand on my neck stiffens to keep me in place. His touch causes goosebumps to pebble up along my skin, and as much as I’d like to believe it’s a result of fear, I know that deep down, his touch excites me.

There’s something about him being so untouchable and uninterested in me that I like, even if I hate it just as equally. It’s the same thing that drew me to Henry in the early days of our marriage, and I’ve long since learned my lesson.

“I don’t need people thinking I don’t please my mate.” His lips are directly next to my ear as he speaks, and moments later, those lips are on my skin.

My muscles tense beneath him, my body stiffening and lungs ceasing to work. I open my mouth to gasp—or scream—but nothing comes out as he places soft kisses from my shoulder to my ear.

He wraps his arm around the chair I sit on and settles his hand on my thigh, his fingers curling around the muscle. I drop my head to stare at it, but Damien weaves his other hand into my hair and yanks it back.

I hiss, trying to dislodge myself from his hold, but he refuses to let go. Damien licks my neck one last time before pulling away.Finally. My relief at his retreat is cut short when he strikes forward and sinks his teeth into the side of my throat. There’s an immediate burn where he bites me, and I choke out a scream as I try to move away.

There’s a tugging in my chest followed immediately by an intense wave of anger I don’t recognize, but the emotion is gone in a heartbeat. The odd sensation in my chest remains, the feeling uncomfortable. Is this the soul pathway or whatever the fuck Jenna called it?

The feeling is foreign, but I don’t have time to try to dwell on it as I grab Damien’s hand and try to yank it off my thigh as I struggle to rip my neck out from between his teeth.

Damien refuses to move, his grip on my leg tightening before he abruptly releases me and steps away.

The second he’s gone, I’m scrambling to the door, my hands frantically covering the wound on my neck. Spinning, I try not to let my horrorstruck tears fall as Damien moves to the window and smiles.

What the fuck was that?

“That should do it.” He straightens out his clothing.

“Why?” I choke out.

“I’ll answer any questions directed at you tonight about our marking. I don’t want you speaking about it.” He sighs, glancing at my covered neck before meeting my gaze. “Go take a shower. We’ll walk there together.”

I want to scream. I want to hit him and demand he tell me why he’s claimed me as his mate and why the hell he just bit me, but none of that happens. Instead, I stand on shaky legs and watch as he saunters out of my cabin.

I learned long ago it’s better just to do what I’m told. Besides, I need to lie low and keep him from digging into my past. Challenging him would be doing the exact opposite of that.

Damien’s nowhere to be seen when I grudgingly head into his home, and I carefully slip upstairs and into the guest bathroom. I look like shit, and I stare at myself in the mirror before rubbing my puffy eyes and evaluating the bite.

It’s red and inflamed, and as I reach out to poke it, I’m shocked to discover it doesn’t hurt. If anything, it’s soothing,leaving a satisfaction within me similar to the one felt when scratching a mosquito bite. My lips purse as I reach out to poke it again, and I rip my hand away as the sensation changes to one more pleasurable.

I don’t understand why Damien did it, and despite knowing I should be happy he isn’t beating me or demanding I tell him of my crimes, my anger remains. Jenna said marking was sacred and Damien wouldn’t do it without my permission, and I suppose I was dumb for trusting that.

I sure as fuck know Damien doesn’t care for me, and I don’t understand why he felt the need to put such an intimate claim on me. It almost seemed like he was jealous of Alex, but I don’t want to jump to conclusions.

He’d have to care about me first to get jealous.

---