His Mate, Their Enemy

Chapter 5: The Secret They Buried

RAINA’S POV

"I was nine when they died," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as Cassian and I moved through the dim hallway. "My parents."

Cassian didn’t look at me, his eyes fixed on the shadows ahead. "You stopped being a kid that day," he said quietly.

"I don’t remember the moment," I continued, forcing the words past the lump in my throat. "Just the silence afterward. The way the woods held its breath. How the sky looked too bright for something so dark to have happened."

He nodded slightly, but said nothing.

"Elijah found me days later," I said. "Half-starved. Scratching through leaves like I could dig them back. He told me I didn’t speak for a week. Just watched the trees."

"You never knew who did it," Cassian said, voice low.

"Until now," I whispered, the memory of the red-inked files and the cold word termination burning behind my eyes.

Cassian’s jaw tightened. "We have to move."

But I was already moving, running without realizing, my heart hammering.

We rounded a corner—and stopped.

Silas Black stood there, two massive wolves behind him, half-shifted and growling low.

"You shouldn’t have gone in there," Silas said, his voice calm, as if he were scolding a child.

"She didn’t mean to," Cassian said, stepping slightly in front of me, his muscles coiling.

Silas didn’t acknowledge him. His eyes pinned me where I stood.

"You’re the Hale girl," he said, almost like he was impressed. "I always wondered what happened to you."

"You killed them," I said, my voice steady despite the fear clawing at my spine.

"I authorized a necessary action," Silas replied smoothly. "They chose to stand against us."

"They were peaceful," I snapped. "They never hurt anyone."

"They didn’t kneel," he said simply. "That’s enough."

My fists clenched at my sides.

Cassian’s body shifted slightly, his energy sharp and crackling.

"She was a child," Cassian said, louder now.

"She’s still a liability," Silas said, cold and final.

A shadow moved at the edge of my vision. I turned—and my breath caught.

Damon stepped out of the darkness, hands in his pockets, suit perfect, hair slightly tousled. He looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine. Except for his face.

His face was blank.

"You knew," I said, my voice breaking.

He blinked slowly. "I found out later."

"You didn’t tell me?" My voice cracked with betrayal.

"What would’ve changed?" he asked simply. "They were already gone."

"You could’ve—"

"I was a kid," Damon said, cutting me off. "Same as you. By the time I could do anything... it was history."

I stared at him, desperate for some sign—regret, guilt, anything—but found only understanding.

He knew it was wrong.

And he had lived with it anyway.

"That’s the difference between you and me," I said bitterly. "You had the truth and you sat with it. I had nothing. And still fought to survive."

Damon’s gaze flickered. But he said nothing.

Silas lifted his hand casually.

And then the wolves lunged.

Cassian moved instantly, shoving me aside as the first wolf’s teeth snapped inches from my throat. I hit the ground hard, the second wolf charging toward me.

Cassian caught him mid-air, slamming the creature sideways with bone-rattling force. His body rippled, half-shifted but controlled, something ancient thrumming just beneath his skin.

He didn’t need to shift fully. His strength was enough.

The other wolf staggered to his feet, snarling.

My savior cracked his neck lazily. "This is going to be annoying," he muttered—and threw himself into the fight.

I scrambled up, running without thinking, heart pounding in my ears.

The mansion blurred past me—velvet curtains, polished floors, glittering chandeliers all smeared together into one long nightmare. I crashed through a side door into the gardens and skidded to a halt.

Damon was already there, standing still, waiting, blocking the path to the gate.

He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look surprised. He didn’t even look anything. He simply stood there, the moonlight catching the sharp edge of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. His eyes locked onto mine, and then he smiled—a small, quiet smile. Not wide. Not cruel. Not kind. Just unreadable. And somehow, that made it worse. Because in that moment, I realized I had never really known him at all.

Cassian skidded to a stop beside me, blood staining his knuckles and the side of his jaw. His voice was urgent but low. "We have to go," he said.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, my gaze lingering on Damon. He didn’t move. He didn’t lift a hand to stop us. He simply stood there and watched, that strange, haunting smile still carved into his face like a scar that hadn’t finished forming.

Cassian grabbed my hand, firm and grounding. I let him pull me away.

We ran.

We didn’t stop until the forest swallowed us. I stumbled into the underbrush, knees hitting soft earth as branches slapped against my skin. Cassian tilted his head, taking in the fading lights behind us, but he didn’t move closer.

I hugged my arms around my legs, voice raw. “Why stay?” I asked. “Why help me at all?”

Cassian knelt beside me, eyes distant. “I couldn’t just let them tear you apart,” he said. “Watching you survive was the only choice I had.”

I laughed without humor. “Surviving isn’t strength.”

He reached out and brushed dirt from my cheek. “It is when they thought they’d finished you,” he replied. “They underestimated what you could do.”

A hush fell between us, broken only by our ragged breaths. Cassian leaned in, eyes locked on mine, voice dropping to a whisper I could barely hear.

“Because you’re the last thing they ever expected,” he said. “And the first thing that’s going to burn them down.”