Unbonding the Ruthless Alpha

Chapter 3

Aria's POV

Walking into the Hawthorne mansion felt like stepping into a beautiful, frozen tomb.

"Look who finally decided to show up." A voice cut through like a knife. It was Lilith, Damon's sister, her disdain plain as day. "We thought you were too busy to remember the family gathering."

I ignored her and nodded slightly to Damon's mother. "Madam Duran."

Her eyes swept over me, then she frowned. "Where's Damon?" She didn't even look at me properly.

"He might be taking a call."

Her expression softened a fraction before she complained again. "Knowing it's a family gathering, yet still being late. I really don't understand how your family raised you. That's completely rude!"

"That's what I'm saying! She can't hold a candle to Claudia!" Lilith said, pulling out her phone. "Mom, look. Claudia just posted on i********:. She's back, and she's gorgeous. She's a real Luna. Not like... well, some people."

I just looked down without a word.

Two years of this. I was used to the insults by now. I wasn't even surprised anymore.

Dinner began. I moved to the seat farthest from Damon.

His rule.

In public, we were mates.

In private, we were strangers.

"Aria. Why are you sitting there?"

Damon's grandfather, Walter, frowned, tapping his cane lightly. "Come. Sit by your mate."

Silence fell over the room. Every eye turned toward me—some curious, some smirking, others watching with cold detachment.

I lifted my gaze to Damon.

He was already staring at me, those dark, predatory eyes full of warning and contempt.

"Walter," I said, taking a steadying breath, "I'm not feeling well. I'd rather stay here and not spoil everyone's dinner."

"That won't do! You're Damon's mate—you belong at his side!" Walter's frown deepened. "Come here. Now."

I bit my lip. When Walter decided something, it was set in stone. Even someone as strong as Damon couldn't say no to his grandfather. I certainly couldn't either. Arguing would be pointless.

"...Alright," I said quietly.

Under everyone's eyes, I walked over and sat beside Damon. In my peripheral vision, I saw Damon's jaw tighten, his teeth clenching as if he could grind me to dust between them.

I had no choice.

Walter was the ultimate authority here. No one defied him, not even Damon.

The scent of pine and leather enveloped me.

Lydia whined softly, drawn to him despite everything.

My body tensed, ready to bolt.

"That's better," Walter said. "Aria, you look too thin. Come on, eat more." He turned to Damon. "Be a gentleman and fill your mate's plate."

"That's not neces—"

Before I could finish, a piece of roasted lamb was roughly dropped onto my plate.

The strong smell—gamey meat mixed with charred fat—hit me like a punch to the gut. My stomach, already fragile from the hemorrhaging, instantly churned. Nausea and sharp cramps in my lower abdomen exploded at once.

I clamped my hand over my mouth and shoved my chair back, trying to run.

But before I could stand, a hand like an iron vice clamped around my wrist and slammed me back down into the chair.

"What kind of stunt are you pulling now?" Damon's voice was a low, violent whisper against my ear.

"I'm not... I just feel sick..."

"Sick?" Damon let out a cold laugh. He suddenly stood, his hand gripping my waist roughly as he half-dragged me from my seat.

In the dark corner of a quiet hallway, he pinned me against the cold wall, my arms twisted behind my back. His towering frame radiated absolute dominance. "Putting on that act in front of Grandfather—what, so desperate to make everyone think I'm abusing you?"

"I told you, I'm not!"

"Shut up."

Without another word, his lips crashed down on mine—cruel and punishing.

This wasn't a kiss. It was pure punishment. His teeth tore at my lips without mercy, splitting them open. The taste of blood flooded my mouth instantly.

I shoved desperately at his chest, but the difference in our strength made my resistance meaningless.

What was I even being punished for this time? Two years of humbling myself, trying to please him—and in his eyes, it was all just some elaborate, unforgivable act. Looking at his cold face as he tormented me, then remembering how gently he'd held Claudia at the hospital just hours ago—

Enough. I was done.

"Stop... let go..." I struggled with what little strength I had left.

That set him off completely.

"Playing innocent with me? Two years ago when you forced me to marry you, where was all this resistance?!"

Damon's handsome face twisted like a beast losing control. He pinned both my wrists behind me with one hand, and his fangs sank into the skin at my collarbone.

It hurt.

The next second, his free hand slid under my dress, fingers closing around my breast—hard. Then it traveled lower, inch by inch, down the curve of my waist…

"Damon, don't…!" I bit down on my lip, fighting with everything I had to stay quiet.

The servants were everywhere.

Lydia let out a desperate whimper inside me. And worse—what made me truly despair—my body, bound to him by fated mate instincts, betrayed me. The heat rising from deep in my core despite the violence—it felt good. Too good. And that was the most humiliating part.

My body's betrayal hurt a thousand times more than anything Damon was doing to me.

"Aria, you should really look at yourself in a mirror right now. Look how shameless you are."

The crushing weight on me vanished instantly.

Damon straightened up slowly, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. His eyes held no desire—only cold, condescending mockery.

He wasn't aroused. He was just using the cruelest method possible to trample on my dignity as his Luna.

"Drop the pathetic victim act. I'm sick of watching you play innocent."

He tossed the blood-stained handkerchief onto my face, straightened his suit, and strode back toward the noisy banquet hall.

Without a backward glance.

Wind swept through the hallway, scattering the scent of cedar.

I curled up alone in a dark corner, listening to the faint pitying sighs of servants drifting in from outside. A vast emptiness was swallowing my soul, piece by piece.

Even Lydia had gone silent. Not a sound.

I reached up and pulled the bloodied handkerchief off my face.

I wasn't crying anymore. I wasn't even shaking.

In the hollow where the pain had been, something cold settled in its place.

Break the bond.

It was the first time I let myself think the words.