His Dying Luna Became His Greatest Enemy

By dawn, I had packed my things and made my way downstairs with my bag. That's when I saw them.

Damon was sitting beside Sophia on the couch, feeding her strawberries one by one. She had her mouth open like a baby bird, giggling as he slipped each piece between her lips.

Before I could say a word, she pulled his face down and kissed him deeply. I watched his hand cradle the back of her head as he kissed her back, completely lost in her.

When they finally broke apart, Damon looked up and saw me standing there. Panic flashed across his face for exactly two seconds before it hardened into cold indifference.

"Aria," he said, not bothering to move away from Sophia. "You're up early."

I nodded and reached for my bag.

That's when he noticed it.

His expression turned to ice. "What the hell is this?" he snapped. "You're leaving? Just because you caught us sharing breakfast?"

He stood and grabbed my bag from me, his voice sharp with irritation.

I glanced at the fresh bite marks scattered across his neck and felt sick.

"Just breakfast?" I said coldly. "You might want to check yourself in the mirror."

Damon instantly raised his hand to cover his neck. "Sophia was having nightmares. I comforted her. That's what pack members do for each other."

I let out a bitter laugh and turned away.

But my silence only seemed to fuel his anger.

"I said I was helping her through a difficult time. Can you stop being so paranoid all the time?!" he barked.

Then, in a sudden fit of rage, he threw my bag across the room. Clothes spilled everywhere. I flinched and instinctively covered my belly.

His face shifted when he saw the gesture—something flickered in his eyes—but before he could say anything, Sophia's voice floated over sweetly.

"Damon, this is my fault too. Let me talk to Aria."

She walked over with the bowl of strawberries, her voice dripping with false concern.

"Aria, please don't be upset. You can have some strawberries too. I don't mind sharing with the mother of Damon's heirs."

I looked down and saw her lipstick smeared on one of the strawberries.

"Get that away from me," I said quietly.

"But I picked the sweetest ones for you," she insisted, pushing the bowl closer. "I know pregnant wolves need extra nutrients."

"I said get it away from me!" I snarled, shoving the bowl aside.

It hit the ground and scattered fruit everywhere.

Sophia shrieked and fell backward dramatically.

"Damon, she pushed me!" she cried, clutching her stomach. "What if she hurt the baby?"

Damon's eyes went completely black. He checked Sophia first, running his hands over her belly and whispering reassurances. Then he stood up and stalked toward me.

"I'm fine," Sophia whimpered from the floor. "Just a little shaken. But Damon, I'm scared of what she might do next."

I tried to back away, but he grabbed my arm.

"Didn't I tell you to be more understanding?" he growled. "She was trying to be kind and you attacked her!"

"I didn't attack anyone," I said, struggling to pull free. "I just—"

"You need to learn a lesson," he cut me off, his voice terrifying.

He dragged me toward the kitchen despite my protests.

Before I could react, he shoved my hand into the ice bucket we kept for pack meetings. The freezing water was so cold it burned, sending shock waves of pain up my arm.

I screamed.

He held my wrist firm, keeping my hand submerged in the ice water. The cold was so intense it felt like my bones were cracking.

"This is what happens when you hurt what's mine," he said, his voice deadly calm. "Sophia is pregnant and under my protection. Touch her again and I won't be so gentle."

When he finally let go, I collapsed to the floor, cradling my frozen hand against my chest.

He loomed over me without an ounce of warmth. "Do we understand each other?"

The pain in my hand was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. This was my mate. The father of my twins. And he was treating me like an enemy.

Tears streamed down my face as I tried to flex my numb fingers.

Seeing me cry, Damon's expression flickered slightly. He crouched down, reaching toward me, but I flinched away in terror.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked, and for a moment he almost sounded like the old Damon.

Before I could answer, Sophia's voice called from the living room.

"Damon? I think I'm having contractions. The shock of being pushed..."

Without hesitation, he abandoned me and rushed to her side.

The sudden movement when he let go of my wrist sent me tumbling. I hit the kitchen floor hard, and immediately felt a sharp, cramping pain shoot through my abdomen.

No. No, not now.

Warm liquid began flowing down my thighs. The metallic scent of blood filled my nostrils.

"Damon," I gasped, my voice breaking. "Something's wrong. The twins..."

He didn't even look back.

"Don't you dare use those pups to manipulate me," he snapped from the other room. "You just attacked a pregnant female and I haven't forgiven you for that. Right now, Sophia's wellbeing matters more than yours."

I heard him cooing to Sophia, telling her everything would be okay, that he'd protect her and their pup no matter what.

The cramping intensified. More blood. I pressed my hands to my belly, feeling my twins moving frantically inside me.

"Please," I whispered to no one. "Please don't let anything happen to them."

I tried to call out again, but my voice was too weak. The blood loss was making me dizzy.

In the living room, I could hear Damon calling the pack doctor for Sophia, his voice full of panic and love.

For her. Never for me.

Even now, when I was bleeding on his kitchen floor, carrying his heirs, he couldn't spare me a single glance.

The realization hit me harder than the physical pain. This wasn't just about Sophia anymore. This was about who Damon really was underneath all his Alpha posturing.

He was a man who could watch his pregnant mate bleed and feel nothing.

A man who could torture the mother of his children to protect his mistress.

A man who had never truly seen me as anything more than an obligation.

The twins kicked weakly, and I knew I was running out of time.

With trembling fingers, I pulled out my phone and dialed the emergency line.