Page 9 of Howl For A Kiss
Her scent shifted, primal fear mingling with the arousal that still perfumed the air between them. Damon's control hung by a thread as his wolf demanded he protect and claim her simultaneously.
"He wouldn't have lied to me my entire life, would he?" she whispered, but tears gathered in her eyes like morning dew.
Damon's resolve nearly crumbled at the sight of her extreme pain. His free hand rose without conscious thought, his knuckles grazing her cheekbone with feather-light touch.
"Sometimes love requires deception," he said softly, his own voice thick with emotion he hadn't allowed himself to feel in fifteen years.
Damon watched as tears started to stream down Elena's face, and his wolf howled with the need to take her pain away. Every instinct demanded he gather her against his chest and shield her from the harsh reality crashing down around them. His thumb traced the moisture on her cheek with infinite gentleness, marveling at how such a fierce warrior could look so devastatingly fragile.
"The Council," Elena whispered, her voice breaking. "If they find out I'm a hybrid..." She pressed her back harder against the cavern wall, as if trying to disappear into the stone itself.
"They'll kill me without question," she breathed, understanding flooding her features with stark terror. "Not just imprison me like regular rebels. Since I'm a hybrid rebellion leader, they'll make an example of me that echoes across all four pack territories."
Damon's jaw clenched with murderous intent. Over his dead body would anyone lay a finger on his mate. The protective fury that surged through him made his wolf scratch violently beneath his skin, demanding blood from anyone who would threaten what belonged to them.
"Elena," he said, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that made hardened enforcers snap to attention. "Look at me."
Her tear-bright eyes met his, the gold rings flaring with fear and something deeper—trust she wasn't ready to acknowledge.
"No one will touch you," he promised, the words carrying the weight of a Beta's vow. "I won't let them."
She searched his face with desperate intensity. "You don't understand the magnitude of what we're dealing with. I'm not just any hybrid and not just any rebellion leader—I'm a hybrid rebellion leader who just stole ancient Council records. They'll hunt me to the ends of the earth."
Damon forced himself to step back, though every fiber of his being protested the loss of contact.
"I need to make a call," he said roughly, his control hanging by threads. "Wait here."
Elena nodded, swiping tears from her cheeks with shaking hands. "Don't go far. I don't... I don't want to be alone right now."
Her vulnerability gutted him. This woman who faced down Council operatives with unflinching courage was shattered by the revelation of her true nature. Damon memorized every detail of her face in that moment—the way her lower lip trembled slightly, how her blonde hair gleamed in the dim cavern light, and the rapid pulse visible at her throat.
"Five minutes," he promised.
Damon stalked through the narrow cavern passage until Elena's enhanced hearing couldn't detect his conversation. His fingers trembled slightly as he dialed Kieran's number, something that would have embarrassed him under normal circumstances. But nothing about finding his fated mate was normal.
The phone rang twice before Kieran's authoritative voice cut through. "Damon. Status report."
"I need temporary leave from my Beta duties," Damon said without preamble, his words clipped and precise despite the emotional storm raging inside him.
Silence stretched across the line before Kieran's sharp laugh echoed through the speaker. "You're joking. The Council's escalating their hybrid hunts, we're dealing with increased rebellion disputes, and you want vacation time?"
"Elena Walsh is a hybrid," Damon continued relentlessly. "She's in extreme danger. Her rebel base was compromised today, and she needs immediate protection."
"I'll send Logan and Zoe back to extract her," Kieran replied dismissively. "I need you back here now."
Damon's grip tightened on the phone. "That's not an option," he growled.
"Since when do you argue with direct orders?" Kieran's voice carried dangerous undertones. "You're my Beta, Damon. Act like it."
The accusation hit hard. Damon had spent fifteen years proving his worthiness of the Beta position and sacrificing personal desires for duty and tradition. He'd enforced laws that made his stomach turn and followed orders that went against his conscience. But this—protecting his mate—transcended everything else.
"She's mine," Damon admitted, the words tearing from his throat like a confession from a dying man.
Another prolonged silence. When Kieran spoke again, his tone carried shock and something that might've been understanding.
"Your fated mate."
"Yes." Damon closed his eyes, feeling exposed. "I felt the mate bond the moment we touched today. She's everything, Kieran."
