CHAPTER 222: ANGRY LUNA {II}

Elena – POV

I found him exactly where I knew he’d be — in the Pack House’s war room, hunched over a map, flanked by two lieutenants who stiffened the second they saw me barge in like a goddamn storm.

He didn’t look up.

Just stood there, arms crossed, jaw clenched like he could sense me, smell me, feel the firestorm coming.

"Out," I said, voice sharper than a blade.

The two lieutenants exchanged nervous glances.

"I said out."

They didn’t wait for him to nod. Just scrambled out of the room like their asses were on fire and I was the match.

When the heavy oak door slammed shut behind them, Damon finally turned — slow, calculated, like he was gearing up for a fight and enjoying every second of it.

His gaze locked on mine.

Dark. Intense. Unapologetic.

"You punched him," I said, voice deadly calm.

He didn’t blink. "I did."

I took a step forward. "You threatened him."

"Mm."

"And humiliated him in front of his entire training unit."

"I wouldn’t say humiliated," he drawled, cocking his head. "But I made myself clear."

I was shaking. Not from fear — from the pure, unfiltered need to tear into him.

"You don’t get to do that," I hissed. "You don’t get to assault someone because they were nice to me."

"I didn’t hit him because he was nice to you."

"Oh, really?" I snapped, fists clenched. "Because from where I’m standing, it sure as hell looks like you broke his fucking face because I smiled."

"Because you touched him," he corrected, stepping forward now, voice dropping low. "Because he touched you. And because he dared to train with what belongs to me."

I snorted, fury bubbling up like magma. "I don’t belong to anyone."

Damon’s eyes darkened, glowing just for a second — enough to send a chill down my spine and heat to every place I didn’t want it to go.

"That’s not what your scent said this morning when you came in my arms and moaned my name like a prayer."

I flinched.

Not because of what he said — but because it was true.

Goddamn him.

I took another step forward, until we were nearly chest to chest. "You left me hanging. Threw me into a storm and walked away like it didn’t matter. And now you think you get to punish someone else for something you caused?"

His jaw clenched.

Good. I wanted him angry. I wanted him as furious as I was.

I jabbed a finger into his chest. "You don’t get to touch me like that. Fuck with my head. And then decide you own me like I’m one of your soldiers."

"You’re not one of my soldiers," he growled. "You’re my mate."

"Oh, so now it matters? Now that you’ve left me high and dry and emotionally raw—now you want to claim me?"

He didn’t answer. Just stared down at me, something violent and possessive sparking behind those eyes. Like a dam ready to break.

I hated him for it.

And I wanted him anyway.

"You don’t get to stake a claim if you’re not willing to stand in it," I whispered, voice trembling with the effort it took to hold the line.

"You think I don’t want you?" he asked lowly, stepping even closer. "You think walking away this morning was easy for me?"

I swallowed hard, but held my ground. "Then why did you?"

"Because if I had stayed," he whispered, "I would’ve taken you."

Silence.

Thick, heavy, crackling between us like lightning.

"You think I don’t want you?" he asked lowly, stepping in like a goddamn storm in human skin. "If that’s why you’re all worked up—because I left you aching and wet this morning—then say the word, Elena."

His eyes dropped to my mouth.

"I’ll fuck you right here. Right now. Against that wall, on that map table—doesn’t matter. I’ll bury myself so deep inside you, you won’t remember how to breathe without me."

Then he surged forward, grabbing my face like he was going in for a kiss. Like he thought that was all it would take to silence me.

I slapped him.

Hard.

The sound cracked through the war room like a whip.

His head jerked to the side, cheek blooming red where my palm landed. He froze—shoulders rigid, lips parted in shock, but I didn’t let him recover.

"That," I hissed, voice low and venomous, "will be the last time you ever touch me like that."

He stared at me, breathing hard.

"You’ve lost that privilege," I went on, chest heaving. "And while we’re at it? You don’t get to tell me who I talk to or train with. You haven’t earned that right, Damon. You want to mark me? Claim me? Then fucking act like I’m more than some piece of property you get to piss on and patrol."

I turned, fury in every step, my heart a hammer in my chest.

He didn’t follow.

Didn’t say a word.

But I felt the weight of his gaze burning into me the whole way out.

And for the first time since I met him, I hoped it hurt.

Damon’s POV

The sting on my cheek didn’t compare to the one cracking straight through my goddamn chest.

She slapped me.

Elena fucking slapped me.

And worse?

She meant every damn word.

"That will be the last time you ever touch me like that."

You’ve lost that privilege.

I stood there, unmoving. A statue made of fury and disbelief as she stormed out, her scent trailing behind her like a taunt. She didn’t look back.

She didn’t have to.

The slap was still echoing in my skull, but it was her words that landed the real hit. You haven’t earned that right.

Like hell I hadn’t.

She was mine. Not in some caveman, bark-and-bite, throw-over-the-shoulder way. No. It was something carved into my bones. A truth older than bloodlines and prophecies.

She didn’t get to question that.

And she sure as fuck didn’t get to defend him.

Luca. That soft-eyed little pup who dared to flirt with what belonged to me. I should’ve broken more than his damn face. Should’ve made him a lesson.

And instead of thanking me?

She apologized to him.

Like I was the problem. Like I was some villain for doing what any Alpha would’ve done to protect his Luna.

No. No, fuck that.

The rage crawled up my spine slow and steady, like magma bubbling under skin. I turned toward the far wall, barely stopping myself from putting a fist straight through the wood.

She’d rather stand up for a nobody than stand with me?

She said I hadn’t earned it?

Fine.

If she wanted proof—if she wanted to see what kind of right I had—I’d show her. I’d burn this entire fucking world to the ground and build her a throne of ashes if that’s what it took. But I would not let her forget that she was mine.

Even if I had to carve my name into the universe itself to remind her.

And that boy?

That Luca?

If he so much as breathed her direction again—

I wouldn’t stop at breaking his face.

I’d bury him.