Chapter 138

Damon

The wax seal was already cracked when Ronan handed me the letter. Whoever delivered it had wanted to make a point: we’re already inside your Court.

I read the contents twice. I understood it the first time, but I didn’t want to believe what I was reading.

It was a formal challenge. Signed in blood-red ink by Kael, the self-proclaimed Beta of the Rogues, implying there was an Alpha of the Rogues which was ridiculous.

It was countersigned by Lady Sera, an exiled noble turned mercenary. A coordinated assault, pre-announced. Bold. Calculated. And completely insulting.

‘We know your halls. We know your guards. We know your blood isn’t legitimate.’

The last line made me believe this wasn’t an idle threat.

Ronan stood silently across the table, arms folded, expression hard. Jackson was beside him, pacing in thought and concern.

I gave them the basics of what it said when they’d both taken a step back, seeing my face change as I read it.

“How do they know the schedule?” Ronan asked first.

“They shouldn’t,” I said. “And yet here we are.”

Jackson looked up. “The leak must be internal.”

“I know.” My voice came out with a growl.

I set the letter down flat, smoothing the page with my palm even as my chest coiled tight. I hated how steady my hands looked when I felt anything but.

“There’s more,” I said, eyes still on the parchment. “This is personal. They’ve studied our patterns. They waited until the Council was fractured. Until the nobles were suspicious. Until I…” I exhaled slowly. “Until I claimed Lila.”

No one corrected me.

I looked up. “We reinforce the guard rotations. Increase patrols on the border. Full armor rotations changed randomly. If even one of them gets through, I want it to be a miracle.”

Ronan nodded once. “And the residents?”

“Have them moved to the underground galleries. Quietly. Use the festival preparations as an excuse. Don’t make anyone panic.”

Jackson cleared his throat gently. “And Lila?”

My gaze shifted to the map on the wall behind them, the one with colored marks and ink circles, a thousand layers of history and planning. Her chamber wasn’t marked. I’d insisted on that.

But I knew where it was. I knew exactly how many paces it took to get there from anywhere. I knew how defensible it could be when necessary.

I couldn’t lose her.

“Double her guard,” I said. “No one goes in or out without my approval. No one. I want elite warriors at both entrances. And she’s not to leave that room until this is over.”

Jackson and Ronan exchanged a glance, but neither contradicted me.

“She’ll hate it,” Ronan said eventually.

“She’ll live,” I snapped. “That’s the point.”

After they left, I stood alone in the room listening to the fire crackle low in the hearth and the distant sound of steel on steel from the training yard beyond the window.

The Rogues wanted blood. And I couldn’t afford weakness. Not now.

I turned toward the door, but paused at the small shelf near the hearth. Her books were still there, the ones she’d asked to have brought from the library. Most were still untouched as she lay in bed, too ill to fetch them.

Except one. The Secret of the Silver Wolf. I’d seen her reading it once, curled under a blanket in my chambers. She’d fallen asleep halfway through, and I remembered thinking how peaceful she looked.

I could offer her a small gesture. That’s all I could give right now. This book, and hopefully a little escape and safe haven from the chaos that was about to unfold.

I picked it up and turned it over in my hands. The cover was worn at the corners. Well-loved. And walked the seven hundred and eighty four steps to her door.

The guards stepped aside the moment they saw me.

Their shoulders straightened, boots clicking against heels as they shifted into position. I noted the one on the left seemed too young, too green. His eyes flicked toward the door like he could feel the heat of the argument waiting behind it.

So could I.

I knocked once out of habit, then pushed the door open without waiting for a reply.

Lila was slowly pacing.

She stopped mid-step, halfway between the chair and the window, and turned to face me. Waiting for me to say something.

I stepped inside and let the door close behind me. The quiet that followed was thick and I worried she wasn’t recovering enough.

“I brought something for you,” I said, lifting the book.

Her eyes scanned my face, lingering on the hollows beneath my cheekbones, the set of my jaw. Her voice, when it came, cracked with disuse.

“You’ve been gone.”

“I’ve been preparing,” I answered. “There’s been movement near the border. Some of the Rogues have aligned.”

“Aligned?” Her brow lifted, just barely. “Rogues don’t do that.”

I placed the book gently on the table between us. “It’s dangerous. I’m handling it.”

Lila crossed her arms over her chest. Her sleeves bunched at her elbows, revealing the edge of a bruise still fading down her forearm. I hated the sight of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything?” she asked. “Why did I have to hear it from a guard that I’m not allowed to leave my room?”

“It’s for your safety.”

Her laugh was short and betrayed how exhausted she was. “You’re imprisoning me, Damon.”

“No one’s locking you in like that,” I said quickly, stepping forward. “I’m protecting you.”

“Without telling me why?” she shot back, her voice rising just slightly. “You left me alone for days. I woke up to an empty bed. I tried to reach my mother and got nothing. And now, this?”

She gestured around the room. The guards outside the door. The invisible bars.

“I’m doing what I have to,” I said, and I hated how cold the words sounded once they were out.

Lila’s expression shifted from anger to sadness.

She sat down slowly in the chair, her posture still straight but her shoulders drawn in as if her body was protecting itself from me. The book remained on the table beside her, untouched.

“I thought you understood,” she said softly, her fingers brushing the edge of the cover. “I thought it meant we’d talk. That maybe you’d tell me what is going on.”

“We will,” I said.

“When? Do you want a Luna in name only?”

I didn’t have an answer to that. Lila looked up at me again, and there it was: distance. That widening gulf between us, quiet and widening like before.

“I’ll keep you safe,” I said, softer this time.

“I didn’t ask you to keep me safe, Damon,” she whispered. “I asked for you.”

I froze.

She turned her gaze away, toward the window, dismissing me. I heard the guards outside shuffling their feet, trying not to seem like they were listening through the door.

I nodded once, not trusting myself to speak, and turned to give her space. Behind me, Lila didn’t say goodbye or ask me to stay.

And I knew that I deserved that for keeping her in this room under lockdown.

But I also knew I would descend into madness, turn feral completely, if I lost another mate when I could have done something to protect her.