Damian’s POV

“Move away from her.”

The words ripped from my throat before I even realized I was standing. My wolf had surged forward the second Alexander walked into the cafeteria and let his eyes linger on Selene. The bond twisted violently in my chest, claws dragging inside me as if ripping me apart from the inside.

I hated it. The way every fiber of me screamed to protect her. To place myself between her and this intruder. To bare my teeth and remind the entire world that Selene Silas was mine.

But that was the catch—she wasn’t mine. Not in the way I wanted her not to be. And yet the truth of the bond poisoned every thought I had. It was ruining me.

Alexander’s lips curved, his red-tinged eyes flicking deliberately from me to Selene and back again. The unspoken mockery burned hotter than fire.

“I didn’t realize I needed permission,” Alexander said casually, his voice low but carrying easily across the silent cafeteria. “She’s not wearing your mark, Damian. So, doesn’t that mean she’s… available?”

The growl that tore from me shook the tables nearest. My wolf pressed against my skin, demanding I lunge, demanding blood. The audacity of him speaking her name, of claiming a right to her, of—

“Don’t.” Selene’s sharp voice sliced through my fury.

For a second, it disarmed me. She never raised her voice. But her trembling hand clutched her tray and she refused to look in my direction. She turned instead to Alexander, her eyes wide but steady.

“Why do you know my name?” she asked him.

His smile sharpened. Dangerous. Knowing. “Because, Selene Silas, I’ve been waiting for you.”

The air thickened, power crackling like lightning. Heads turned. Whispers surged again, louder, feeding off the tension like vultures circling carrion.

Amber stomped up beside me, slipping her hand around my arm as if staking her claim in front of everyone. “He’s lying,” she hissed. “Don’t let him bait you, Damian. He’s a bastard from the North. He’s nothing.”

But the sound of the cafeteria chairs scraping back told a different story. Alexander didn’t look like nothing. He looked like a storm. And for the first time in a long time, people were paying attention to someone other than me.

Selene shifted uncomfortably under the weight of too many eyes. Her wolf’s scent—fresh and fragile—rolled through the air, and every wolf present stiffened, drawn to it. My chest tightened. She didn’t even know yet what she was unleashing.

And Alexander? He knew. The glint in his red eyes confirmed it.

“This school needed a little excitement,” he said finally, leisurely setting his tray on the table beside Selene, like he’d just chosen his seat for the year. “I think I’ll find it here.”

I didn’t remember crossing the room, but suddenly my hand slammed against the table, rattling it hard enough for trays to jolt. The room gasped. My hazel eyes locked on his unnatural ones.

“You don’t belong here,” I snarled.

Alexander didn’t flinch. His smirk only widened like he had been waiting for this exact confrontation. His voice dropped low, the words meant only for me.

“And maybe you don’t belong on that throne, brother.”

Brother.

The word detonated in my head. A ripple of quiet shocks traveled the cafeteria as the insult sank in. People thought it was just an insult. A challenge. But the way he said it… unapologetic, sharpened with meaning… it clawed something raw inside me.

He wasn’t bluffing.

Something primal slammed against my chest, choking me with realization. The whispers had been rumors. Shadows creeping around our pack for years. Rumors Father never denied but never confirmed.

And now here it was. A bastard come to claim pieces of what was mine.

Selene stiffened beside him, confusion sliced across her face as her gaze darted between us. No one moved. No one breathed.

“Fight him, Damian!” someone shouted from the back.

“Prove he’s lying!” another added.

The cafeteria thirsted for blood. Wolves always did.

But Alexander only leaned back in his chair, relaxed, as if the chaos meant nothing to him. Like the entire game was already under his control.

Then he did something that lit my fury hotter than fire.

He reached out—slowly, deliberately—and brushed a strand of Selene’s white hair over her shoulder. His fingertip grazed her skin.

The bond inside me snapped. Flames roared through my blood. My wolf bellowed, clawing for release. I couldn’t stop it this time.

My fist swung.

The impact cracked like thunder. Alexander’s lip split, blood bright against his mouth.

But he only laughed. Wiping the red with his thumb, he leaned forward, eyes burning.

“Good,” he whispered, low enough for only me to hear. “Hate me. Spill my blood. You have no idea how much I want this.”

Alexander rises to his feet, bloody smile cutting across his face. Selene trapped between us, the pack chanting for violence, and my wolf raging uncontrollably inside me—I realized one truth: This wasn’t the end. It was the beginning of a war for her.