Chapter 16: Clara

Delilah led me back to the house, chattering incessantly about Damon killing her once he discovered she’d been attacked. I followed silently, knowing Damon wouldn't care—he'd likely laugh. "My brother entrusted me with a task, and I failed," Delilah lamented. I sighed, took her hand, and turned her to face me. "The wound's healed. Let's shower and forget this ever happened. Damon doesn't need to know," I murmured. She gazed into my eyes. "You won't tell him?" she whispered softly. I shook my head, smiling. "I won't." Even if I did, nothing would likely happen, but I kept that to myself.

Later, Delilah left, and I returned to my room, attempting to sleep. Hours later, a knock abruptly woke me. I groaned, checked the time, and was startled by how long I'd slept. Sighing, I sluggishly climbed out of bed and opened the door to Lucas’s smiling face.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Donovan," he greeted. I rolled my eyes. "You're back," I said. He grinned. "Yes, and so is your husband. He's asking for you." I groaned inwardly. What other bombshell could Damon possibly drop? Knowing I couldn't protest, I closed the door and followed Lucas. To my surprise, we walked down the hall, not toward the stairs. Weren't we going to Damon's office? We stopped before a massive door, and Lucas knocked twice. Exclusive © content by NovelDrama.Org.

"Alpha, she's here," he announced. My eyes widened as the door swung open, and I gasped at the room. It was the size of a house! Everything, even the floor, looked incredibly expensive. I almost hesitated to enter.

"Come in, Clara," Damon's voice called from inside. I took a deep breath and entered. Two guards immediately closed the door behind me. I took a moment to marvel at the room before turning to Damon, who sat at a table with a book. I stared, captivated. He exuded a powerful, yet graceful aura; everything about him screamed wealth and royalty.

"Stop staring, or I might think you're falling for me," Damon remarked, finally turning. I scoffed. "You wish. Your room is amazing, though," I mumbled.

"I know," he replied. I rolled my eyes. "Why am I here?" I asked.

He snapped his fingers. A maid emerged from a room carrying a dress bag. She placed it on a bed and left. Damon stood. "Tomorrow, we make a public announcement—to my pack and the world. You'll wear that." He gestured to the dress. "A hairstylist and makeup artist will be sent to your room tomorrow morning."

I frowned. "Why didn't I pick out the dress myself?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Because you have the fashion sense of a two-year-old."

I gasped. "That's not true! And where are my clothes? I'm tired of wearing yours and smelling like you!"

His eyes darkened momentarily before he cleared his throat. "You're never getting your old things back. Everything will be replaced, but for now, you can take more clothes from my closet."

I huffed. "Can I go now?" His silence was my answer, and I turned to leave, only to be stopped by his voice.

"I heard Alicia attacked you," he said. I turned, gasping at his proximity. How had I not heard him move? "It was nothing; she—"

Before I could finish, he cupped my chin, inspecting my body. His touch sent a strange feeling through me. "How dare she touch what's mine? It seems I need to remind everyone who the f**k I am," he murmured, caressing my face.

We remained like that for a while. His gaze drifted to my lips, and I subconsciously bit them. His eyes darkened, then cleared.

"Careful, with that stare, I might think you want me," I murmured. He scoffed, still watching my lips as his thumb brushed my cheek. "You're not my type. I'm not attracted to you."

"Your… joystick is poking my abdomen, Mr. Donovan," I whispered.

He abruptly moved away, clearing his throat as he adjusted his pants. "My wolf is attracted to you, not me," he argued. Despite the heat spreading through me—the lingering scent of his cologne, whether from his shirt or our closeness—I rolled my eyes.

"I can handle Alicia myself. Don't worry," I said. He scoffed. "If my sister hadn't come to your rescue, Alicia would have seriously harmed you, or worse," he muttered. I sighed.

"This is a matter of respect, Clara. I don't go easy on those who disrespect me. I warned her not to touch what was mine, and she disregarded that. So I'm disregarding the fact that she's my relative and dealing with her," he said. His calling me "his" stirred inexplicable feelings. My wolf howled with joy, and the feeling was contagious.

"How about you trust me to put her in her place?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Alicia is a Donovan. Even though she's not of the same blood, she was raised like us. So, little devil, how exactly do you plan to put her in her place?" He moved closer.

"I was head of the warrior wolves in my old pack. I'll challenge her to a duel," I said. He chuckled.

"Go to bed, Clara," he muttered, then grabbed my hand.

"If I lose, I'll obey all your rules, anything you say," I said. He tilted his head. "You were going to do that anyway. That doesn't interest me. I'll think of something, but know you owe me if you lose."

"If I lose, and when I win, you'll grant me three wishes. Deal?" I extended my hand. He hesitated before shaking it.

"Deal. But I won't help you. You'll have to defeat her alone. In my pack, we fight until one is dead. Are you ready for that?"

I nodded immediately. "Are you ready to lose a family member?"