Damien.

The corridor was quieter now.

The kind of quiet that came only after command had been given and obeyed. Boots no longer echoed against stone. Voices no longer drifted through the halls in hushed clusters of speculation. Most of the pack members had retreated to their assigned duties, carrying with them the weight of orders and the illusion of normalcy.

The earlier tension from Adrien’s room had long faded from the air.

But not from my mind.

It clung there, sharp and intrusive, replaying in fragments I could neither silence nor control.

I walked toward my chamber with measured steps, each footfall deliberate against the polished floor. My expression remained neutral, carved into something unreadable. An Alpha did not brood openly. An Alpha did not falter.

I replayed the discussion about the borders. The thinning patrol lines along the eastern ridge. The supply shortages that were beginning to stretch patience thin. The silent pressure tightening around our territory like an unseen noose.

That was what should have occupied my thoughts.

The pack.

The threat.

Responsibility.

Each word carried weight. Each one demanded my full attention.

Yet beneath all that...there was something else.

Something far less disciplined.

Something that refused to be dismissed no matter how forcefully I tried.

I reached my door and pushed it open.

And stopped.

Maria was inside.

She stood near the bed, smoothing out the sheets with slow, precise movements. The late afternoon light filtered through the tall window, spilling gold across the room and catching along the curve of her cheek. It softened the edges of her silhouette, turned her dark hair into a muted shimmer.

For a moment, I simply watched.

Not because I intended to.

Not because I allowed myself to.

But because I couldn’t seem to look away.

Her movements were careful. Controlled. Every crease in the sheet was pressed flat beneath her palms as though she were restoring order to something that had never truly been disturbed.

My chest rose slowly.

Then I cleared my throat lightly, not to announce myself, but to steady my own breathing.

She didn’t turn immediately.

She remained focused.

As though nothing had happened earlier.

As though I hadn’t seen her lips on Adrien’s.

As though the image hadn’t burned itself into my mind with humiliating clarity.

Good.

I would ignore her too.

Without a word, I crossed the room and sat in the chair by my desk. The wood creaked faintly beneath my weight. I reached for the nearest book, a ledger of territorial records, and flipped it open.

Focus.

Numbers.

Borders.

Logistics.

Anything but her.

The inked lines blurred together as my eyes skimmed across the page without comprehension. Trade tallies. Patrol rotations. Inventory counts. Words that normally anchored me now felt hollow, distant.

The sound of fabric shifting reached my ears as she adjusted the corners of the blanket, a small sound, soft yet insignificant.

My jaw tightened anyway.

My wolf stirred.

Restless.

It wasn’t a roar. It wasn’t even a growl.

Just a low, persistent hum beneath my skin.

Mine.

It coiled in my chest, sharp and irrational.

I shook the thought away sharply.

Ridiculous.

She was just a rogue.

A complication we had taken in out of necessity, nothing more. I turned a page in the book, though I hadn’t read a single word from the last one. The parchment rasped beneath my fingers.

My eyes betrayed me.

They lifted.

Subconsciously.

Again.

She had moved to the other side of the bed now, tucking in the sheet with firm, practiced hands. She bent slightly as she worked, her expression neutral, composed, detached in a way that felt intentional.

Untouchable.

As though she had drawn an invisible line around herself.

The wolf pushed harder.

Take control.

Claim.

The word reverberated inside me, heavier this time.

I inhaled slowly through my nose, catching the faintest trace of her scent beneath the clean linen and polished wood. It was subtle. Wild beneath restraint. A reminder that no matter how composed she appeared, there was something untamed about her.

Something that answered the part of me I kept leashed.

I turned another page in the ledger, the numbers swam uselessly before me.

The urge came in flashes.

Quick.

Intrusive.

Uninvited images of closing the distance between us. Of reaching out and testing the strength of that composure she wore like armor. Of watching it crack beneath my hands.

I saw it, her breath hitching, her back arching away from the wall, her control slipping the way mine threatened to.

The thoughts were raw.

Primitive.

I inhaled deeply, dragging air into my lungs as though it could cool the heat building beneath my skin. I forced my gaze back to the page in front of me.

You are an Alpha.

Control yourself.

The words had always been enough before. They had shaped me. Tempered me. Made me into the leader this pack needed.

But control felt thinner than usual.

Fragile.

Like glass under pressure.

The memory of her glare earlier surfaced without mercy. The fire in her eyes when she had defied me. When she had met my authority head-on instead of bowing beneath it.

The way she had walked out without lowering her head.

Without apology.

Without fear.

It ignited something primitive in me.

Not anger.

Something far more dangerous.

She finished smoothing the bed and stepped back, examining her work with quiet scrutiny. A faint crease appeared between her brows as she adjusted the blanket one last time, satisfied.

Still she hadn’t acknowledged me.

Not a glance.

Not a word.

That, for some reason, bothered me more than if she had spoken, more than if she had challenged me again.

Indifference.

That was what she offered.

My wolf surged.

Enough.

The word wasn’t spoken aloud, but it reverberated through me with decisive force. The chair scraped softly against the floor as I stood. The movement was almost automatic, less thought, more instinct. The ledger slipped from my hand and fell shut on the desk with a muted thud.

She must have sensed it.

A shift in the air.

A change in my breathing.

Because she turned just as I moved.

Too late.

With speed sharpened by instinct, I crossed the distance between us in seconds. The space that had felt suffocatingly wide moments ago vanished in a blur.

Her back met the wall before she could react fully.

A soft gasp escaped her.

My hand braced beside her head, palm flat against the stone, caging her in. The other settled firmly at her waist, fingers spreading just enough to keep her from slipping away.

Her eyes widened.

Not with panic.

But with surprise.

My wolf quieted, not satisfied, but alert.

Claiming proximity.

The low hum beneath my skin steadied, soothed by the closeness. By the warmth of her body so near mine. By the faint scent of her that curled around my senses.

I searched her face.

For hesitation.

For fear.

For permission.

For something that would justify the storm inside me.

Her breathing quickened, brushing warm against my jaw. Close enough that every exhale grazed my skin.

"You saw me walking into my room," I murmured slowly. My voice came out rougher than intended, edged with something darker. "And pretend I’m not here. Like you didn’t see me."

Her gaze did not drop.

It held mine.

Steady.

Defiant.

"Alpha Damien," she said evenly, though her pulse fluttered visibly at the base of her throat, "I am just a rogue. Your personal maid. I think I am only permitted to respond when an order is given."

The formal tone, the careful wording, it was deliberate.

A shield.

I smirked faintly.

Was this her new style?

Cold obedience instead of open rebellion?

It was provocating.

Infuriating in its restraint.

My fingers tightened slightly at her waist, not enough to hurt, but enough to feel the solid warmth of her beneath my palm. To remind her that I was there. That I was not furniture to be ignored.

My gaze dropped briefly to her lips, softly parted from her uneven breathing, before lifting back to her eyes.

My wolf stirred again, begging me to let him out.

’Take what’s yours.’ He echoed loudly in my head as he commanded.

The command was instinctual and territorial.

I leaned in slightly, reducing the space between us to almost nothing. My forehead nearly brushed hers.

Her breath hitched.

But she didn’t pull away.

Didn’t beg.

Didn’t yield.

That restraint, hers and mine, hung taut between us like a wire ready to snap.

Without waiting for her to say anything further, I closed the final inch of distance. My lips captured hers, stealing the air from her lungs in one decisive motion.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was a claiming of space.

Her hands pressed against my chest instinctively, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt. I knew she would try to resist, so I grabbed her hands and held it tightly.

Then....Stillness.

Her breath mingled with mine, warm and uneven. The world beyond this room faded into nothing but the sound of it. The faint brush of her pulse beneath my fingertips.

My wolf settled slowly, not satisfied, but acknowledged.

Mine.

The thought pulsed once more, quieter now, but no less possessive.

I was still lost in it when I heard footsteps approaching, but I couldn’t care. I just can’t seem to get enough of her.

I wasn’t satisfied.