Chapter 3: Regrets and Rivals
1650 Words
I stared at Ethan through the narrow gap in the door, my entire body frozen in shock. Three years. Three whole years of silence, of pain, of forcing myself to forget his face—and now he stood on my doorstep like a ghost from my worst nightmare.
Victoria clung to his arm like a trophy, her pregnant belly rounded and proud under a tight maternity dress. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, diamonds flashing at her throat. She looked every bit the Luna she’d always wanted to be.
Ethan’s green eyes bored into mine, filled with something I couldn’t read—regret? Desperation? Possession?
“Isabella,” he said again, softer this time. “Please. Let us in. We need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “You made your choice three years ago. Loud and clear.”
Victoria smirked, rubbing her belly. “Oh, sweetie. Don’t be bitter. Ethan just feels bad for how things ended. He’s offering you a chance to come home.”
Home. The word twisted like a knife.
“That pack was never my home,” I snapped. “You saw to that.”
Ethan winced. Actually winced. “I was wrong, Isabella. I know that now. The Moon Goddess—”
“Don’t you dare bring the Goddess into this.” I laughed bitterly. “You rejected me in front of everyone. You marked her right there while I bled on the ground. You banished me. There’s no undoing that.”
His jaw clenched. “The bond never fully broke. I feel it every day. It’s been torture.”
Victoria’s smile faltered for the first time. She shot him a sharp glance.
Good.
I leaned closer to the gap. “Then maybe you should have thought about that before you threw me away like trash.”
Ethan stepped forward, placing a hand on the door. “I was young. Stupid. Victoria… she convinced me you weren’t strong enough to be Luna. But I was wrong. You’re stronger than any of us knew.”
Victoria hissed. “Ethan!”
He ignored her. “Come back, Isabella. Let me make it right. We can complete the bond. You’ll be Luna. My true Luna.”
The words hit me like a slap. After everything—after surviving alone, scraping by, burying my wolf so deep I barely felt her—he thought he could just waltz back and claim me?
Luna stirred inside me, growling low. Not yours. Never again.
I straightened my spine. “No.”
Ethan’s eyes flashed with Alpha command. “Isabella—”
“I said no.” I met his gaze without flinching. “You don’t get to crawl back now that things aren’t perfect. Enjoy your life with your chosen mate and your pup. Leave me alone.”
Victoria recovered her venom. “You ungrateful little—”
The door suddenly vibrated under a powerful knock from the other side. Not Ethan’s. Deeper. More commanding.
My heart stuttered.
“Open the door, Isabella.” Damian’s voice rumbled through the wood, low and lethal.
Ethan stiffened, nostrils flaring. He scented the air, eyes narrowing.
Victoria paled. “Who’s that?”
I didn’t answer. My hand trembled as I unlatched the chain and pulled the door open wider.
Damian Voss stood there like a storm incarnate—black coat damp from the morning drizzle, silver eyes glowing with barely contained fury. He took in the scene in one glance: me, pale and tense; Ethan and Victoria on my doorstep.
His gaze locked on Ethan, and the air crackled with Alpha power. Two dominant wolves sizing each other up.
“Who the hell are you?” Ethan growled, stepping forward protectively.
Damian didn’t even blink. “The man who’s about to remove you from her doorstep if you don’t leave in the next five seconds.”
Ethan laughed coldly. “This is pack business, city boy. Stay out of it.”
Damian’s lips curved into a predatory smile. “Pack business? Interesting. And which pack would that be, future Alpha Blackwood?”
Ethan froze. Victoria gasped.
They knew exactly who Damian was. Everyone in the werewolf world knew the name Voss—even if humans only knew the billionaire. Damian ruled the largest, most powerful pack in North America. The Lycan King in the shadows. Untouchable.
Ethan recovered first, but his voice lacked confidence. “King Voss. I… I didn’t realize she was under your protection.”
“She is.” Damian’s tone left no room for argument. He stepped forward, placing himself between me and them like a living shield. “And you’re upsetting my mate.”
The word dropped like a bomb.
Mate.
Victoria’s mouth fell open. Ethan looked like he’d been punched in the gut.
I felt the blood drain from my face. Damian had just claimed me. Publicly. In front of my ex-mate.
Ethan’s eyes darted to me, wild. “Isabella? Is this true?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Damian turned his head slightly, silver eyes meeting mine. There was possession there. Warning. And something softer—reassurance?
He was giving me the choice.
Luna whined inside me. Yes. Yes. Ours.
I swallowed hard. “Yes.”
Ethan staggered back a step. Victoria clutched his arm, glaring daggers at me.
“You… you found another mate?” Ethan’s voice cracked. “That’s impossible. Rejected mates don’t—”
“Apparently, the Goddess disagrees,” Damian cut in smoothly. “Now. You’ve delivered your message. She’s given her answer. Leave.”
Ethan’s hands clenched into fists. For a moment, I thought he might challenge Damian—young Alpha pride against ancient Lycan power.
But even Ethan wasn’t that stupid.
He looked at me one last time, eyes filled with raw pain. “This isn’t over, Isabella.”
Damian growled—a deep, bone-rattling sound that made the hallway lights flicker. “It is. Touch her again, approach her again, and I’ll consider it an act of war against my pack. Understood?”
Victoria tugged urgently at Ethan’s sleeve. “Let’s go, babe. She’s not worth it.”
Ethan allowed her to pull him away, but his gaze lingered on me until they disappeared down the stairs.
The door clicked shut.
Silence.
I leaned against it, legs shaking. Damian turned to me slowly, expression unreadable.
“You okay?” His voice was softer now. Just for me.
I nodded, even though I wasn’t. Not even close.
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’m sorry I claimed you without asking. But I wasn’t going to let him think he still had a chance.”
“It’s… it’s fine.” My voice came out breathless. “Thank you. For showing up.”
“I told you I’d be back.” A hint of a smile. “I meant it.”
“How did you even know—?”
“I had someone watching your building. After last night.” He didn’t look apologetic. “I needed to make sure you were safe.”
Stalkerish. But after Ethan’s surprise visit, I couldn’t exactly complain.
He glanced around my tiny apartment, jaw tightening at the peeling paint, the sagging couch, the single window with bars.
“You’re moving out. Today.”
“What? No, I—”
“Isabella.” His Alpha tone was back, but gentler. “You’re not safe here. Not anymore. Blackwood knows where you live. And I’m not taking chances with my mate.”
My mate.
The words sent warmth flooding through me, chasing away the chill Ethan left behind.
Luna purred. Finally.
“I can’t just—” I started.
“You can.” He stepped closer, crowding me against the door in the best way. “I have a penthouse. Top floor. Private elevator. Full security. You’ll be safe. And…” His thumb traced my jaw. “I’ll be close.”
Heat pooled low in my belly.
“Dangerously close?” I whispered.
His eyes darkened. “As close as you’ll let me.”
I should say no. Should insist on my independence. I’d survived three years alone—I didn’t need a man to rescue me.
But Damian wasn’t just any man.
And I was so tired of being alone.
“Okay,” I breathed. “But on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“I pay my own way. Eventually. Rent or… something.”
He smiled—slow, devastating. “We’ll negotiate terms later.”
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it and frowned.
“I have a meeting. But my driver will be here in an hour to help you pack.” He leaned down, lips brushing my ear. “Don’t argue with him. He’s ex-special forces and very persuasive.”
I shivered. “Bossy.”
“You have no idea.” He pulled back, eyes gleaming. “One more thing.”
He cupped my face and kissed me.
Not soft. Not gentle.
A claiming kiss—deep, possessive, branding me as his. His tongue swept in, tasting, conquering. I melted against him, hands fisting in his coat.
When he finally pulled away, I was breathless, lips swollen.
“That,” he growled against my mouth, “is just the beginning.”
Then he was gone, leaving me dazed and aching.
An hour later, a massive man in a black suit showed up—introduced himself as Marcus, head of Damian’s security. He packed my entire life into three boxes in twenty minutes while I stood there in a stupor.
By noon, I was in the back of a sleek black SUV, watching Brooklyn disappear in the rearview.
Heading toward Manhattan. Toward Damian Voss.
Toward whatever came next.
Little did I know, the real storm was just beginning.
- Writer
