CLAIMED BY THE BANISHED ALPHA

Fragile control

ELODIE’S POV

After saying what he wanted to say to me Damien went to take a shower as if to wash away the memories of the night, as if all he wanted was to get rid of any traces of me. It hurt more than I wanted it to, more that I wanted to admit. I watched him get ready while he did his best to avoid any eye contact with me. He was in no rush to leave the room, he took his time and when he was done I watched the door close softly behind him.

I didn’t move after he left, I stood there, staring at the closed door as if it might open again. As if he might step back inside and say he hadn’t meant it. I wanted him to take every word he had said to me back. I wanted him to say that he only said those words because he was afraid. Afraid of what people would say about him going back on his word, afraid that Nyra would want revenge once she found out about us. I knew him picking her was about political alliance and I wanted him to confirm to me that I was right. But he didn’t, instead he called our night a lapse in discipline.

The words echoed, error, instinct and nothing more than that. The room felt smaller without him in it. Or maybe I did. Slowly, my knees gave out.

I sank onto the blankets still spread across the floor, the same place where only hours ago he had held me like I mattered. My chest tightened. I pressed my hand over my mouth to muffle the sound, but the sob tore through me anyway. I had humiliated myself.

Not publicly, privately. Which somehow felt worse. He had warned me with his actions long before his words did. He had rejected me in front of the pack. Chosen another woman. Made me sleep on stone. And still…when he softened, I ran to him like I had been starving.

Tears blurred my vision, I wasn’t angry at him. I was angry at myself, for believing him. For believing that humiliation was strategy. That rejection was protection. That cruelty was part of some larger plan. I curled in on myself, pressing my forehead to the floor.

Something inside me shifted quietly.

Not dramatic.

Not loud.

Just… a settling. Hope drained first, then longing. Then the ache. What remained was something colder. Clarity. If I stayed attached to the version of Damon I wanted, I would keep breaking. So I let her go. The girl who believed she was secretly chosen. She didn’t survive the morning.

By the time the door opened again that evening, I had rebuilt myself, not fully. But enough. I was seated near the window, back straight, hands folded loosely in my lap. I had braided my hair neatly. Washed my face. Removed every trace of vulnerability.

Damon entered without speaking, he paused when he saw me.

Something flickered in his expression… surprise, perhaps. Or irritation that I was not curled on the floor waiting for him.

“You did not eat,” he said, noticing the untouched tray near the table.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

He removed his jacket slowly, watching me in the reflection of the glass, silence stretched. Then he approached. The air shifted the closer he came. The bond stirred, faint but present. He stopped in front of me.

“Elodie.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

The title landed deliberately between us. His jaw tightened.

“You are being formal.”

“I thought that was appropriate, you are the alpha after all”

His hand lifted, almost unconsciously, as if to brush my cheek again like he had the night before. I leaned back before he could touch me.

It wasn’t dramatic, just enough. His hand froze midair. The shift in his expression was immediate. Confusion first. Then something darker.

“Do not,” I said softly.

The words surprised even me.

“Do not what?” he asked quietly.

“Touch me out of instinct.”

The room felt charged.

“That is not what this is,” he said.

“Isn’t it?”

He stepped closer anyway, the bond pulsed harder at proximity.

“You forget yourself,” he murmured.

“No,” I said, standing now. “I remember perfectly.”

His eyes darkened.

“You were not resistant last night.”

The words were meant to provoke, to remind and to weaken my resolve. To pull me back into warmth. But something in me had already cooled.

“Last night,” I said evenly, “was a lapse in discipline.”

The silence that followed was sharp, his nostrils flared slightly.

“You throw my words back at me.”

“I state only the truth your truth”

The tension snapped. He closed the remaining distance suddenly, gripping my arm. Not violently. But firmly.

“Do not test me,” he warned.

For a second just a second I saw it. The urge to take. To override. To force the bond into compliance. It flickered in his eyes. And for the first time, I didn’t melt, I didn’t soften and I met his gaze steadily.

“If you touch me again,” I said quietly, “make sure it is because you choose me. Not because your wolf does.”

Something in him recoiled, his grip loosened. Not because he couldn’t force me. But because I had removed the surrender he expected. The bond strained between us, confused. He stepped back slowly.

“You think distance gives you power,” he said.

“No,” I replied. “It gives me peace…this is not about you. Its about me taking care of myself and putting myself first”

That hit harder than anything else. Peace did not include him. For a long moment, he looked like he might argue. Like he might cross the space again. Like he might ignore my warning and drag me back into the heat we both remembered. Instead, he turned.

“You will remain here,” he said stiffly.

“Of course, Alpha.”

The title again, he stopped at the door. Something unreadable passed across his face. Then he left. This time— He did not return. I heard distant footsteps later. Guards repositioning. A door closing down the corridor. He had chosen another room. And for reasons I didn’t want to examine— That hurt more than the rejection. Because it meant something had shifted.

Not just in me. In him. And whatever fragile control he believed he held, I had just cracked it.