Choosing My Ex Mate's Father

Chapter 4.

Damien's P.O.V.

The weight of Kiera’s gaze lingered long after she’d left the room, her scent clinging to the air like a memory I couldn’t shake. She wasn’t just another pack member to me. She was a storm—fierce, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore.

I’d seen the pain in her eyes when she first arrived, a reflection of my own from years ago. Betrayal had a way of cutting deeper than any blade, and though she masked it well, I knew the wounds Rowan had inflicted hadn’t fully healed. I’d been where she was—abandoned, cast aside by the person I trusted most. That shared understanding was what drew me to her at first.

But now? It wasn’t just about shared pain.

Kiera was more than the sum of her scars. She was strength and fire, determination and resilience. Watching her rebuild herself, piece by piece, was both humbling and maddening. Every time she pushed herself harder during training, refusing to falter, I felt my resolve c***k a little more. She didn’t need anyone to save her—but that didn’t stop me from wanting to be the one she chose.

And yet, I couldn’t deny the complexity of our situation. I was Rowan’s father, a leader bound by duty. Letting myself fall for Kiera—letting her in—wouldn’t just disrupt the fragile balance of our pack. It could shatter it entirely.

But what choice did I have?

Tonight, I found myself drawn to her once more. She was in the training yard, practicing the defensive forms I’d shown her earlier. Her movements were sharp, deliberate, but there was a tension in her shoulders, a frustration simmering beneath the surface.

“You’re overthinking it,” I called out, stepping into the clearing.

She spun around, startled, but quickly masked it with a small smile. “I thought I had this figured out.”

“You’re trying to control every detail,” I said, crossing the distance between us. “Fighting isn’t about perfection. It’s about instinct.”

I moved behind her, my hands settling lightly on her shoulders. She tensed for a moment, then relaxed as I guided her through the stance. “Loosen up. Trust yourself.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away. “It’s hard to trust anything these days.”

The vulnerability in her voice was like a blade to my chest. I turned her to face me, my hands lingering on her arms. “You can trust me, Kiera.”

Her eyes searched mine, a flicker of uncertainty giving way to something softer. “I know.”

The silence stretched between us, heavy and charged. Every rational thought told me to step back, to keep this professional. But then she leaned in, and every barrier I’d built crumbled.

I met her halfway, our lips brushing in a tentative kiss that quickly deepened. It wasn’t just desire—it was need, raw and undeniable. When we finally broke apart, her cheeks were flushed, her breath uneven.

“This complicates everything,” she whispered, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of my jaw.

“I’d take complications over losing you,” I admitted, my voice low but firm.

Whatever came next, I knew one thing for certain: there was no turning back.

Kiera’s fingers lingered on my jawline, her touch a tantalizing mix of uncertainty and boldness. The storm in her eyes softened, giving way to something I hadn’t seen before—trust. It was fragile, barely there, but enough to make my heart lurch.

She pulled back slightly, breaking the spell, but stayed close, her voice barely above a whisper. “Damian, what are we doing?”

I swallowed hard, searching for the right words. “Something neither of us planned,” I admitted, “but something we both want.”

Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but no words came. Instead, she looked down at where my hands still rested on her arms, her brows furrowed. “This isn’t just about Rowan, is it?”

“No,” I said firmly, lifting her chin with a gentle hand. “This stopped being about him the moment I saw who you are—truly are.”

Her breath caught, her eyes shimmering with emotions she seemed hesitant to name. “I don’t want this to be a mistake,” she confessed, her voice trembling.

“It won’t be,” I promised, the weight of my words grounding us both. “You’re stronger than you think, Kiera. And whatever this is, it’s real.”

For a moment, it was like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us, the night air heavy with possibilities. Then, the spell was broken by the faint howl of a wolf in the distance—a reminder of the pack, of our responsibilities, of the chaos this would undoubtedly unleash.

Kiera stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself as if shielding from the reality crashing down. “This is going to complicate everything, isn’t it?”

“It will,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “But I’ve learned something about life—it’s not about avoiding complications. It’s about fighting for what’s worth it.”

She looked up at me, her expression a mixture of hope and fear. “And you think I’m worth it?”

I closed the distance between us, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I don’t think, Kiera. I know.”

Her lips curved into the faintest of smiles, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Then I guess we’re both in for a fight.”

As I watched her walk away, her silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight, I felt the weight of what we were stepping into. This wasn’t just about forbidden desire or fleeting emotions.

This was the beginning of something that could either shatter us—or make us stronger than we’d ever been.

The silence lingered as Kiera stood in front of me, her breathing uneven, her gaze locked on mine. Her vulnerability was like a blade to my chest—sharp, unexpected, and wholly disarming. She was baring her soul to me, confessing that what started as a ploy to hurt Rowan had turned into something far more profound.

I wanted to be angry. I wanted to push her away, to shield myself from the storm brewing between us. But I couldn’t. Not when her words carried a weight that shattered the walls I had so carefully built.

"Damian," she whispered, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, but... I can’t ignore it anymore. I don’t want to.”

Her admission stole the air from the room. The pack, the delicate balance of my role, all of it faded into the background. What mattered now was the woman standing before me, the fire in her eyes igniting something in me I hadn’t felt in years—hope.

“Do you even understand what you’re asking of me?” I said, my voice low but raw with emotion.

Kiera stepped closer, the scent of her wrapping around me, intoxicating. “I’m asking for you, Damian. For us. No matter how complicated it gets.”

Her fingers brushed against mine, hesitant but deliberate. That small touch sent a ripple through me, breaking the last of my restraint.

I caught her wrist, pulling her closer, my other hand cupping her face. Her skin was warm, soft beneath my calloused fingers. “If we do this, Kiera, there’s no turning back. You need to be sure.”

Her answer came not in words, but in the way her lips met mine—a kiss full of certainty and desperation. She clung to me like I was her anchor, and I kissed her back like she was my salvation.

When we finally broke apart, her forehead rested against mine, her breath mingling with mine in the quiet of the room. “I’m sure,” she murmured.

But before I could respond, the door burst open. Rowan stood there, his eyes blazing with fury, his fists clenched at his sides. His gaze shifted between us, the tension crackling in the air like a thunderstorm about to break.

“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his voice a low growl.

And just like that, the fragile moment we’d created was shattered.