Chapter 4 – You Are My Mate (Damian's POV)
I stand in my private quarters before dawn, shirtless and staring at the drying blood on my knuckles. It's not mine—one of the rogue werewolves had gotten a lucky swipe at my face, and I repaid him in kind, perhaps more viciously than necessary. My temper is shorter than usual tonight.
I know exactly why.
With a grunt, I wipe the blood off and toss the rag aside. What a mess. Matteo’s stunt at the bar was ill-timed. The idiot nearly stole my prize. I had to intervene sooner than I wanted. Exposing myself like that—sloppy.
But I had no choice. Ivy was seconds from death or abduction by those imbeciles. And I could not allow that. Not when I’ve spent years waiting to claim what the Accord promised me.
I inhale slowly, recalling the moment I finally laid eyes on Isabella Romano. She was fierce even in terror—biting, kicking, refusing to go quietly. A spark of admiration flickers in me at the memory of her battling my guards in the foyer. The woman has more fight than most wolves I know.
A reluctant smile ghosts my lips, but I banish it. This isn't the time for indulgence. She’s a responsibility, a means to an end. The treaty must be honored, and as Alpha, it falls to me to enforce it.
Downstairs, the silence is heavy. As I approach the library, I catch a low murmur of voices—two guards I left outside the door, chatting softly. They straighten to attention as soon as they see me.
“Alpha,” one greets respectfully.
I nod and dismiss them with a tilt of my head. They move off to a distance, giving me space but remaining on standby.
Exhaling, I push the doors open and step inside.
She’s at the far end of the room, by the fireplace, where only embers remain. At my entrance she whirls around. Her eyes are a striking blue fire, glaring at me beneath furrowed brows. Dark shadows smudge under them—she hasn't slept.
I stride forward, stopping a safe few feet from her. Closer and I fear my wolf's urge to...well, things could get complicated. Even now, it pushes at me to take her, claim her, if only to tame that defiant posture. Down, boy.
“I'm ready to explain,” I reply. “On the condition that you listen without interruption until I'm finished.”
She crosses her arms. I notice she’s clutching something—a letter opener, perhaps, gleaming in her hand. Cute. As if that would do more than tickle a werewolf. I arch a brow at it but say nothing.
“I've been 'listening' to silence for hours,” she retorts. “But fine. Talk. Enlighten me as to why I'm a damned hostage forced to wear this ridiculous costume.”
Her frustration is palpable. I keep my tone measured. “First, you should know you're not a hostage in the traditional sense, Ivy.”
She barks a harsh laugh. “Chains or not, I'm being held against my will. That screams hostage to me.”
“You are here because of your father,” I say plainly.
That gets her. She blinks, some of the ire giving way to uncertainty. “My... father?”
“Antonio Romano,” I continue. “He was one of our pack. A trusted member, once.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “No. He left when I was little. We moved away...he never said anything about werewolves or packs or—”
“Of course not,” I interrupt, a bit more sharply than intended. “He went rogue. Betrayed us. And that betrayal is why you're here.”
Ivy bristles, eyes narrowing again. “Betrayed? How? All I know is he...” she falters, swallowing. “He was killed. Murdered. And no one would tell me why.”
I soften my tone a fraction. “He was executed, Ivy. By our law.”
She reels as if slapped. I see moisture in her eyes but she blinks it back fiercely. Her knuckles whiten around the letter opener. “Executed? For what?”
I begin to pace slowly, a predator circling, as I lay it out. “Your father broke the Blood Accord—an ancient treaty that binds our kind. He shared pack secrets with outsiders, put our entire community at risk. There were... consequences.”
She absorbs that, chest rising and falling quickly. “He wouldn't—” she starts, then stops, doubt creeping in. “My father was a good man.”
I incline my head. “Perhaps to you. But to the Lucenti, he was a traitor. He tried to run, to hide your family from our reach after his actions. We caught up to him.”
Ivy closes her eyes briefly, pain flickering across her face. I find myself unexpectedly wanting to spare her the gory details, but she needs the truth.
“He was given a choice,” I say quietly. “Face summary execution, or submit to an ancient law of atonement.”
Her eyes snap open. “What law?”
I clasp my hands behind my back. “The Blood Accord decrees that when a pack member gravely betrays the pack, their bloodline can make amends through a binding alliance. In simpler terms, a marriage.”
She stares, uncomprehending. I press on.
“Your father chose to invoke that law. He offered you—his only child—” I have to pause as her face twists in disbelief and anger. “He offered you as a bride to the pack, specifically to the Alpha, to spare his life and reconcile the betrayal.”
Ivy's face goes deathly pale. The letter opener in her hand trembles. “No... you're lying.”
“I'm not,” I say firmly. “He sealed the pact in blood. The next full moon after your twenty-fifth birthday, you were to marry the Alpha of the Lucenti pack.”
She takes a step back, legs hitting the armchair behind her. “That—that’s insane. He'd never trade me like...like chattel!”
I shrug, keeping my expression neutral though the memory of that night still irks me. “People do desperate things when cornered. Perhaps he thought it was better than death. Or maybe he believed it would ensure you protection here after he was gone.”
“He didn't even tell me!” she shouts, voice cracking. “He never...I never knew any of this! And Antonio Romano is dead!”
I tilt my head. “He likely planned to hide you from us forever. That was his final betrayal—after offering you, he tried to break the pact by keeping you off our radar. That's why we... had to make an example of him.”
Ivy's breath hitches. She looks on the verge of either hitting me or collapsing. Possibly both.
I steady my tone to a gentler timbre. “I’m sorry, Ivy, that you found out this way. But what's done is done. The Blood Accord must be honored. The moment you were born to his bloodline, you became bound by it.”
She grips the back of the armchair, probably to keep herself upright. “So...so you expect me to…” her voice drops to a whisper, “to marry someone of your pack? To pay for some crime I had nothing to do with?”
The anguish and fury in her eyes actually pricks at my conscience. I shove that aside. I have to be firm.
“Not just anyone… Me.”
I saw her breath hitch.
“Isabella Romano, you are my mate!”