DAMONThe door slammed behind me hard enough to rattle the walls. I didn’t care.

Grace flinched where she stood at the edge of the bed, her wide eyes snapping to me, guilt obviously dripping off of her in waves. She looked like a thief caught in mid-crime, her fists clenching the blankets, her lips pressed tight.

I could smell a hint of fear. Hear the vicious drumming of her heart.

She had done something worse.

“Do you enjoy making a fool of me?” My voice came out low, guttural, the kind of tone that made weaker wolves grovel before my feet yet not her. She raised her chin at me, defiant despite trembling slightly.

I stalked closer, my steps deliberatly dragging the silence out until the air felt heavy with it.

“Didn’t I tell you not to wander?” I asked, every word a lash. “Not to sneak like some gutter rat in my halls?” I stretched but she was quiet.

Her eyes were blazing with a defiance I hated so much, it amazed me how I could admire it a little.

“So, tell me why some servants whisper about a mute girl, creeping into the kitchens like a thief.” My gaze darkened. “Do you have a death wish, Grace?”

She scowled at me, her lips parting though no sound came. That mute defiance! it did something primal to me.

She didn’t need words to stab me. The challenge in her eyes screamed louder than any tongue could.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I was on her now, towering, my hand braced on the headboard above her shoulder, caging her in. “I should drag you to the seer tonight, let her strip you bare and cleanse this mad defiance from you”

Her breath hitched. She shoved at my chest, weak compared to me, but sharp in her intent.

I caught her wrists and pinned them against the bed. Her eyes burned into mine, molten and furious.

“Why do you defy me?” I hissed into her ear.

“Because you’re easy to defy” she hissed back into my mind and something burned in my chest.

I pulled away from her by an inch, our eyes connected. Mine were slits, hers were defiant.

My grip on her wrists tightened. Her chest heaved against mine. The scent of her was overwhelming this close. My wolf was struggling but my cock struggled even more.

From the moment she spat on me at the wedding, something changed in my DNA. All of a sudden, it was not only just about retribution for what her father did. It was ownership. I wanted to claim every inch of her skin. I wanted to brand her so all could know she was mine even as the hatred burned.

I let one hand slide to her throat, wrapping gently but firmly. Her pulse thudded wildly under my palm, and I felt her wolf bristle inside her, torn between resisting me and giving in.

Her lips parted. A soundless gasp.

Fuck.

My restraint shattered and I crushed my mouth to hers.

It wasn’t gentle. It was heat and teeth, fury and hunger. She kissed me back just as fiercely, nails biting into my arm, body arching against mine like she hated me for how much she wanted me.

The bond roared alive between us, molten threads stitching fire straight to my chest. She was mine.

My hands touched every inch of her skin from her stomach to her arms. My thumbs lightly grazed the front of her dress and something exploded inside of her.

She pulled me in, wanting me just as bad. I hooked her leg on my waist, my body grinding against her. The cloth, a restraint that I was willing to tear to shreds.

My hands grabbed her left breast and she nearly putted in my mouth. My hands lightly grazed the top of her breast, daring to go in more than that when she froze.

I had no time to anticipate her next move as she pulled back with a shove that was sharp and desperate.

My breathing was ragged, her chest was heaving and just behind her eyes, something flashed. Something rawer than fear. I tried to see what she was thinking but she blocked me. When her hands wrapped over her shoulders, I recognized the look.

It was pain.

“Grace—” My voice was rough, breaking. I didn’t even know what I was going to say as she shook her head violently, shoving me back, towards the door, harder this time.

I had moved too fast.

I cursed under my breath, dragging a hand through my hair. Every muscle in me screamed to drag her back, to pin her down until she said something but I knew I couldn’t make her speak even if I told her how much hate and passion burned in my blood.

“Be ready. The seer will be waiting by dusk,” My voice came out harsher than I intended. I tore myself from the room only to bump into something.

No. Someone.

The harsh slam of the door did no justice to the fury that was nearly overpowering me.

Seamus, my uncle leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his lips in a downward spiral.

He looked pissed.

That was rich considering he had been evesdropping.

“Who is she, Damon?” He demanded and for the first time something inside of me snapped towards my uncle.

He had no right. Just because he was my beta and my advisor didn’t make any of this right.

“My wife.” The words came out clipped.