forbidden Alpha

Alone once more, Damian allowed himself a single moment of honesty - his hand pressed against his chest where the bond ached like a wound. The scent of lavender still lingered, ghostlike and maddening.

He despised it.

He despised her.

And yet, he could not stop himself from needing it.

Flashbacks

The training grounds were alive with the sound of steel and snarls. Torches cast flickering light across the packed dirt, illuminating warriors locked in combat. Damian moved among them like a phantom, his presence alone enough to stiffen spines and sharpen reflexes.

"Again," he barked, his voice cutting across the night. Two young wolves, sweat dripping from their brows, squared off once more their blades clashed, the rhythm raw, desperate. But Damian saw everything-the weakness in their footing, the hesitation in their strikes.

"Pathetic."

In one swift motion, he drew his own sword. The silver blade gleamed like lightning, cold and merciless. He stepped between them, and with a blur of movement, disarmed them both. Their weapons clattered to the ground before they even realized what had happened.

"Strength without precision is nothing," Damian growled. "Precision without resolve is worse. You hesitate, and you're dead."The young warriors bowed their heads in shame, but Damian barely noticed. His own heart was pounding-not from the fight, but from the sudden memory that struck him. He had seen hesitation before. Not in himself. In her, the lady he dispised Luna The flashback came unbidden, vivid as fire. The night her pack's lands had burned, Damian had led the Silverfang charge. He remembered the heat of the flames, the screams, the chaos. And through it all, he had seen her. A girl standing in the ruins, clutching her mother's lifeless form, her eyes locking on his with a hatred that seared deeper than the fire around them.

She hadn't run. She hadn't begged. She had stared him down, trembling but defiant, her lips forming a vow he would never forget.

"I will never forgive you."

The bond had flared then-wild, raw, undeniable. It had been his first taste of it, and it had nearly dropped him to his knees. In that instant, the mighty Alpha Damian Nightshade had felt weaker than he ever had before. And the memory still tore at him, years later. A growl ripped from his chest. He turned on the nearest warrior, blade flashing in a storm of strikes. The man barely blocked in time, sweat pouring as Damian pressed him harder and harder, each blow fueled not by discipline but by rage.The warriors around them fell silent, watching with wide eyes as their Alpha unleashed a fury no training exercise should hold. When Damian finally stepped back, his opponent was on his knees, sword knocked from his graps