Chapter 6
Daemon’s POV
My boots hit the gravel with a hollow crunch as Lucas and I walked toward the mansion. Every step felt heavier than the last. The weight of Callister’s name on Lucas’s tongue was still echoing in my mind.
Callister. Trouble. Death.
Gods.
I rubbed my temples, my head pounding like war drums. My mouth tasted like iron and regret. The air was too sharp, like it knew something I didn’t.
I hated not knowing.
“Do you remember anything yet?” Lucas asked quietly beside me.
I shook my head. “Only pieces.”
But then…
A growl stirred inside me. My inner wolf.
“Liar. You remember her. The girl. Her scent gods, Daemon, she tasted like fire.”
“Zephyr,” I muttered under my breath, my heart skipping.
“You’ve bedded many, but none of them ever touched me. She did.”
He sounded giddy. I hadn’t heard him like this in years.
Most women I slept with made Zephyr retreat. Bored. Disgusted. He called them empty, glass shells that touched the body but not the soul.
But last night?
He was practically howling.
“She’s ours. The curves, the fire in her eyes, the way she pulled at us even when she tried to resist. Daemon, you buried yourself in a storm.”
Images flickered behind my eyes.
Flashes. Her fingers in my hair. Her legs wrapping around me like chains made of silk.
Her scent rich, wild.
The sound she made when she whispered my name.
I stumbled a bit.
“Alpha?” Lucas steadied me.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“You’re more than fine,” Zephyr purred.
“You marked her. Maybe not with a bite, but you carved her into us with every thrust. You know it. That wasn’t lust. That was fate clawing its way through you.”
“Enough,” I growled softly under my breath. “Not now.”
“Why not? She matters”
“I said not now.”
Because I needed my head clear. Because Callister had gone too far this time.
Because my daughter could die if I don't fix this.
The mansion loomed in the distance, dark clouds rolling overhead like they were summoned by my mood. The guards at the front door looked stiff. Nervous.
Lucas opened the doors for me, but my mind stayed stuck on the girl.
How soft she looked. The way her breath caught when I pressed into her. The wild rhythm we made, like war and worship all at once.
“You should find her. Remember her. Let her remember you,” Zephyr whispered.
“I will,” I whispered back. “But not now.”
First, I had to face the mess Callister made.
By the time I reached my quarters, the mansion felt quieter than usual. Like even the walls were holding their breath.
I walked in, and the first thing I noticed was the warmth of the fire already lit in the hearth. My personal servant, Arren, bowed low.
“Your bath is ready, Alpha. Shall I prepare your traveling attire?”
“Yes. I’m riding out to Northern Watters in the evening.”
The Northern Watters Kingdom wasn’t like any other territory under my rule.
It was tucked deep beyond the wildlands, bordered on one side by thick, impassable forest, and on the other by the Silvermare River—a wide, silent current that kept most people out and secrets buried within.
Few had access to that land, not just because of the terrain, but because the kingdom thrived in its seclusion. Old magic still lingered in those parts, and the rulers there had kept themselves wrapped in tradition and shadows for centuries.
Traveling there wasn’t just inconvenient, it was ritual.
You couldn’t just ride in through the trees. You had to wait.
The river rose only at dusk, fed by a hidden spring that gushed to life once the sun dipped low. That was the only time their boats could drift through the narrow pass carved into the cliffs, a temporary waterway known as The Breath. Too early and the river was too shallow to carry weight. Too late, and the waters surged dangerously, swallowing whole anything that dared drift in the dark.
So we had a window. Twilight. That brief moment when the river rose just high enough to carry us into their veiled lands without resistance.
Even that passage wasn’t guaranteed.
Only those with permission or political bloodlines were allowed to pass. And I, being both their sovereign and Callister’s father, was expected.
But expected didn’t mean welcome.
“As you wish,” he said before disappearing behind the tall partition to fetch the fresh clothes.
I stripped off my shirt, the weight of sweat and alcohol clinging to my skin. The steam from the marble tub curled like fingers into the cold air. The scent of cedarwood and ash root filled the room meant to calm the nerves.
It did the opposite.
Because the moment I closed my eyes, I saw her.
Penelope.
The way her body arched beneath mine. The sharp gasps that left her lips. The desperation in her fingers as they clung to my back.
I clenched my fists.
You felt it,” Zephyr said, voice like gravel and smoke. “She melted the ice in your veins. That wasn’t just sex, Daemon. That was soul-deep. You know it.”
I slipped into the bath, the hot water biting my skin. I didn’t flinch. I welcomed the burn.
I leaned back, closing my eyes again.
Damn her.
Damn me.
“She was scared. So scared. But she still let us touch her. You think that’s nothing?”
“Her body remembers us. And so do you.”
I grit my teeth. “She’s a girl who shouldn’t have been there. I shouldn’t have touched her.”
“Yet you did. Again. And again. And she gave herself to you willingly. Don't pretend it was one-sided.”
The water rippled violently as I slammed my palm into it.
Penelope wasn’t just some woman I slept with. That wasn’t what last night was. Not for me. Not for Zephyr.
She looked at me like I was the only man who had ever seen her. Really seen her.
And gods, I had never felt more seen either.
For the first time since my wife walked out and left a hole in my chest… I forgot about her. I forgot every name, every lie, every cold night. There was only Penelope.
I stood abruptly from the bath, water pouring down my body. Arren returned, folding my clothes onto the bed, eyes carefully averted.
“Your cloak is cleaned, Alpha. I took the liberty of choosing”
But I wasn’t listening.
I walked to the dresser, knuckles white, and before I knew it I threw the crystal decanter across the room.
It shattered against the stone wall.
Arren froze, but didn’t speak. He knew better.
Glass littered the floor like a graveyard of my thoughts.
I stared at the broken pieces. The reflection in them didn’t look like a King. Or a father.
It looked like a man lost in a woman he barely knew.
“You broke her trust,” I said. She came to us. We should’ve protected her.”
“I know,” Zephyr said quietly.
“She’s supposed to be under our care. But instead”
“I know,” he snapped.
I ran a hand over my face. “Damn it all…”
I should’ve walked away when I saw her. When I felt that pull. But I didn’t. I let it consume me.
I dressed in silence, the weight of my choices heavier than the cloak on my shoulders.
Penelope haunted me and not in a way I could ignore.
She didn’t just slip into my hands.
She slipped under my skin.
Now she was out there somewhere, probably hurt. Scared. Ashamed.
And I was heading off to Northern Watters…to clean up Callister’s mess.