h4Chapter 231: Betrayal or Jealous?/h4

    strongDamon POV/strong

    She shot off the bed like I’d seared her soul.

    One minute I had her under me, trembling with need—iours/i for the taking—and the next, she rolled away like I was poison.

    Shended near the bathroom door like an electrified cat who’d just realized she’d almost given herself to the fucking ienemy/i.

    "You need cold water," she said stiffly, voice clipped. "It usually helps when a she-wolf is in heat."

    And then she turned. Walked straight into the bathroom.

    Left me.

    iLeft me like I was nothing./i

    Like this unbearable storm ripping through me wasn’t her fucking fault. Like she hadn’t just ignited every raw nerve in my body and then mmed the door shut before I could iburn with her/i.

    iCold water?/iiThat’s it? That’s fucking it?/i

    My fists clenched into the mattress, every muscle in my body quaking with a rage that was sharp, molten, and so far past reason it burned.

    She just walked away. Like it was nothing.

    Like iI/i was nothing.

    Like my gods-damned isuffering/i — this raging, relentless inferno under my skin — didn’t even imatter/i to her.

    She abandoned me with a dismissive remedy.

    And both my beasts howled.

    My wolf growled, savage and betrayed. My vampire hissed with possessive fury.

    And that’s when I heard it.

    That voice. Low. Cold. Curling through my skull like mist through a crypt.

    "She doesn’t love us."

    "She’d rather let us suffer in heat than give herself to us."

    It wasn’t the vampire. It wasn’t the wolf.

    No. This was iolder/i. Deeper. Sinister and icertain/i.

    The voice crawled through my skull like oil and ice, slow and lethal. It wasn’t loud. Didn’t need to be. Every word pulsed with a heavy, ancient gravity — the kind that made the air seem thicker.

    Hades.

    The bastard had finally spoken.

    Not just lingering like a dormant shadow anymore — not a whisper in the back of my mind — but a full-blown ipresence/i. A part of me like the wolf. Like the vampire. But darker. Older. More... but still iplete.

    And fuck, he was ipowerful/i.

    My eyes burned. I could feel it — my pupils shifting, the ck bleeding into the whites like smoke, curling at the edges of my vision. My skin tingled, my spine straightened.

    Power licked through me like fire and frost all at once.

    And yet... the iheat/i didn’t lessen.

    Not even close.

    The third beast that had slumbered beneath my skin for far too long had finally stirred—and his voice was like liquid midnight. I didn’t know if he lived in my bones or my blood, but I knew one thing the second he spoke:

    He iwasn’t/i going to be quiet again.

    And fuck... he was right.

    My mate—the woman fate carved for me—turned her back and left me straining, starving, isuffering/i.

    She knew what I was going through. She could smell it, sense it in the way my body trembled with need. And still she left.

    As if she didn’t ibelong/i to me.

    My jaw clenched so hard I swore my mrs cracked. The muscles in my shoulders coiled, twitching like I was seconds away from tearing through something—ianything/i.

    "She’s ours," Hades murmured again, almost reverent this time.

    "She just hasn’t realized she can’t run forever."

    My wolf growled agreement.

    My vampire hissed with bitter, hungry fury.

    I could feel it—my eyes darkening again, vision tinged in red, ck creeping around the edges like shadowfire. My skin buzzed, alive with power. With rage. With iwant/i.

    And yet, the heat... the unbearable, bone-deep ache? It ididn’t/i go away.

    If anything, her leaving—ichoosing cold water over me/i—just made it worse.

    Worse, because my body screamed that she was the cure. My instincts knew what had to be done: mark her, take her, iim/i her. Erase any space that dared exist between us.

    But she had walked away.

    And somehow, that hurt more than the heat.

    I pressed my palms against the bedpost, knuckles whitening. My breath was ragged. I could still smell her. Still ifeel/i her.

    "She’s resisting us," Hades whispered again, this time with something darker in his tone. A promise. A threat.

    "But not for long."

    I didn’t trust the grin curling at the corners of my lips. It was too sharp. Too cruel. Too ihis/i.

    She was ours.

    And she’d learn—one way or another—that you don’t walk away from the devil’s favorite.

    I stood, slow and trembling, barely holding myself upright as the surge of power rippled through my bones. My hands trembled with the need to punch something. Fuck something. iBurn/i something.

    My skin still ached for her. Her scent still clung to the sheets, my tongue, my isoul/i.

    I turned toward the bathroom, my fangs elongating as my hands flexed at my sides, still stained with the heat of her almost-touch.

    The door was still closed.

    But something told me it wouldn’t be for long.

    strongElena POV/strong

    Fuck.

    I almost did it.

    iAlmost/i gave myself to him.

    And gods, I iwanted/i to. My wolf was pacing inside me, baring her teeth, growling and whining all at once—desperate to ease the ache of her mate. His scent was still in the air, thick and intoxicating,ced with heat and something imore/i. Something ancient and dark and devastating.

    But instead of easing ihim/i the fun, fast way... here I was.

    Filling a goddamn bathtub with cold water like I wasn’t two seconds away from throwing myself back onto that bed and letting him fuck the madness out of me.

    What the hell was wrong with me?

    A iwolf in heat/i is unheard of. He wasn’t supposed to experience it. That was a female wolf thing, not a iwolf/i thing. But here we were. Damon, whatever-the-hell he was now, was throwing off pheromones like a wildfire and my body had no defenses left.

    My thighs were clenched. My breath was uneven.

    I hated him.

    I iwanted/i him.

    And that made me hate him even more.

    Because it wasn’t just the heat. It wasn’t just instinct.

    It was the memory.

    Those iwitches/i.

    Half-naked. Dripping fake submission and lust, crawling all over him like he was some fucking sex god they were summoned to worship.

    And him?

    He ilet them/i.

    I saw it. I ismelled/i it.

    The scent of their desire still clung to him like perfume—sweet and heavy and inot mine/i.

    That bitch had her hand wrapped around his cock.

    iHis fucking cock./i

    iMy fucking cock./i

    And the other one?

    Kissing his chest like she’d earned the right.

    My ws itched toe out.

    I wanted to slice the stroker’s hand off—rip it from her bony wrist and stuff it down her throat.

    And the one who kissed him?

    She could choke on her own lips after I tore them off.

    And still... still...

    My itraitor/i of a wolf wanted to go to him.

    Wanted toy down, arch her back, bare her throat.

    As if we didn’t see him let someone else pleasure him. As if that didn’t mean ieverything/i and inothing/i all at once.

    He didn’t fuck them, no.

    But would he have?

    If I hadn’t walked in when I did, would he have let them itake him/i?

    That thought makes bile rise in my throat. Makes my stomach twist with something worse than jealousy.

    iBetrayal./i

    Because no matter how ancient or cursed or demon-kissed he is now, ihe’s mine/i.

    And I don’t share.

    Ever.

    The water is full now, steam rising. It’s hot. Not cold.

    Oops.

    I yank the tap, growling under my breath as I switch it to cold and start again.

    Stupid.

    iStupid./i

    I grip the porcin rim until my knuckles go white. Try to breathe.

    But all I can think about is the way he looked at me before I ran.

    Ravenous. Wild. iStarved./i

    Like I was prey.

    Like I was salvation.

    And I hated how my body responded—how my legs iparted/i slightly just from his stare. How my nipples tightened. How my mouth actually watered when he growled.

    I m my palm against the counter and lean forward, catching my reflection in the mirror.

    Eyes too wide. Cheeks flushed. Pupils dted.

    A woman fighting herself.

    "Get it together," I whisper.

    But I already know the truth.

    I’m furious.

    I’m aching.

    I’m ipossessive/i.

    And I’m dangerously close to forgiving him just to feel his mouth on my skin again.

    Because my wolf doesn’t give a damn about pride.

    She just wants her mate.

    And I’m not sure how long I can keep telling her ino/i.

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