98 Lives For Betrayal: One Life For Regret

Chapter 3

Emma's POV

"I’m no longer your Luna, Damon, nor do we share any fated bonds. Trying to object to my decision of leaving the pack would be held as you keeping me hostage."

I stood my ground, clutching my luggage so tightly my knuckles turned white. The night air was heavy, but his cold gaze wasn't enough to make me flinch. I had seen that look ninety-eight times before, usually right before he ordered my execution.

"And you know as much as I do the severe consequences that come with keeping a Saintess hostage, so I need not remind you."

Even for a Lycan, feared by the werewolf tribes and known as their undisputed King, he didn't dare to put me in harm's way once the Holy Sect was involved. It was the only card I had left to play, and I played it with everything I had.

Damon’s hands clenched so tightly that the veins on his arms popped, thick and corded.

He drew closer, invading my space until I could feel his breath underneath my skin. It was supposed to make my skin crawl; it was supposed to make me flutter like a helpless girl, but I stared directly into his eyes without a flinch.

"I'm sure you don't have a problem with that," I whispered, my voice a challenge.

The hot air rising from his breath grew hotter.

He stood right over me, forcing me to breathe in every bit of his presence as my heart pounded involuntarily. It was a physical reaction, a remnant of a bond I had just tried to kill.

"I don't care who you are or what path you think you have taken, but you cannot leave the pack without my permission," he growled. Anger pulsed through his veins, making his scent turn sharp. "Whether you want to or not, you will be my Luna, and your opinion in this matter is zero to none."

For someone who had never taken 'no' for an answer in all his life, I knew I had brushed his ego. Hard.

A stiff chuckle escaped through my lips. The laughter was genuine, echoing in the quiet space between us and only spiking his rage further. Then, my face instantly grew stiff.

"I would love to see you stop me!" I responded, clutching my bag and waiting to see the drama that unfolded. I was ready for him to roar, ready for him to drag me back.

In between our stare contest, I saw it.

A car was driving from a distance, but it looked strange. Shimmers of a strange light engulfed it, and though I tried to make out the shape, its movements were swift and unnatural. A raw sense of urgency cut through my bones. My wolf, Sera, was roaring inside of me, sensing the danger even before I saw it.

A car coated with spiky silver advanced speedily towards us. It was heading straight for Lycan Damon.

My body jerked. Years of practice had conditioned me into a protective robot for the Lycan. Years of training and instincts kicked in, and my wolf betrayed me with a desperate yell.

"Move! Save the Alpha!" Sera growled. My limbs popped, ready to move on their own to shield the man who had killed me nearly a hundred times.

But my strong willpower held them tightly to the ground.

"No..." I yelled back to myself, screaming at my own soul. "Not again. I'm not dying for anyone again. Not ever. His life is in his own hands. He can die if fate wanted."

I growled with a strengthened commitment, fighting the urge to lunge. The tension between my willpower and my instinct stretched until I thought I would snap. I was so focused on holding myself back that I didn't see the shift until the very last minute.

The car that moved wasn't for Damon. The target was me.

Before I could get myself to act, it was already too late. I saw the silver spikes glinting in the moonlight, aimed right at my chest. My eyes shut tight, ready for whatever came afterward. I waited for my end. Time seemed to stretch beyond normal, and the only thing I felt were warm, gentle traces of electricity on my skin.

My eyes snapped open. There I was, vulnerable in the arms of the Alpha. The strength had been drained out of me by the sheer brush of the car that had almost hit me before the Alpha gagged me out of the way.

The car was definitely laced with high wolfbarne and demon blood to have caused such an effect at just a brush.

Damon’s skin burned bright red where the silver had grazed him. His injuries looked painful, but his yells for an ambulance were his deepest concern. He was shouting, his voice frantic, calling for the pack doctors.

For the first time in ninety-nine lifetimes, he actually seemed to notice me. Truly notice me.

And somewhere in the deepest part of my being, a lingering feeling crept to the surface.

It was a sick sense of déjà vu. Like this had happened before. This was the ninety-ninth time he had saved me from death on this same occasion, only for things to end in blood later.

It was like I could never escape fate. With that heavy feeling crushing my chest, I passed out.

My eyes adjusted slowly to the light in the room. I looked back and forth until the idea settled in that I was in a hospital. Gradually, the memories of the night seeped back into my mind—the luggage, the car, the silver.

I still could not remember how I narrowly escaped death or how exactly I got to the hospital. My head throbbed, and my body felt like it had been run over by a truck.

"Emma..."

A familiar voice that I could never miss cut through my thoughts. It was warm, familiar, and lacked the edge that Damon’s always had.

"Lucas!" I muttered back, followed by a light cough from the attempt to speak.

With his gentle hands, he held me back on the bed, guiding me to stay down. "You should calm down. You just escaped death; you shouldn't rush back into it," he muttered.

I nodded, looking around the room. It was a high-end suite, probably in the neutral territory hospital. It was obvious I had fainted back at the pack house. For what it was worth, we had a history, and it was only right for him to be around.

"How long has it been?" I asked, my voice tired and dull.

"Three days," he said, his eyes filled with a concern that seemed genuine. "You shouldn't stress yourself out talking. You need as much rest as you can get."

He tried to cut me off, but I continued to speak, needing answers.

"Damon?" I asked, the name feeling like poison on my tongue.

Lucas’s expression changed instantly. "You should ask about people who actually care about you, Emma! Not that bastard."

A heavy feeling settled in my stomach, and my gaze fell. I acted like I didn't care, but deep down, even after ninety-eight loops, there was still this tiny hunch. I wanted to know if he had stayed. But like every other time, the disappointment followed.

A brief sigh escaped from my lips. I looked at my hands, feeling the absence of the bond.

"I made the right choice," I mumbled under my breath. "The bastard isn't worth the stress."

I looked at Lucas, trying to piece the scene together. "So, I suppose you rescued me from the car?"

Lucas paused, then he nodded. "Fortunately for you, I was around. But it seems you were too lost in that little prick's taunts that you didn't even notice I was standing just over you."

"Oh." The word came off weakly.

I tried to remember his face in the chaos, but I only remembered the heat of Damon’s skin. I pushed the thought away.

"I suppose that explains it," I said, though something felt off. "But he isn't exactly 'little,' Lucas..."

I brushed past the cruel joke almost instantly before he could notice. I didn't want to defend Damon, but the Lycan King was many things, and 'little' wasn't one of them.

"Thank you, Lucas," I said, my voice heavy with emotion. "For saving my life and for always being around when I need you to be."

I was indeed grateful. If Lucas was the one who saved me, then maybe this loop really was different. Maybe I could finally move on. But the heavy feeling in my stomach didn't go away. I looked at the door, half-expecting a dark, cold presence to burst through, but the hallway remained silent.

"I'm taking you to the Northern Pack as soon as the doctors clear you," Lucas said, his hand squeezing mine. "He won't touch you there."

I nodded, forcing a smile. "I'm ready to go. I don't want to be anywhere near the Crescent Pack ever again."

But as I closed my eyes to rest, the image of Damon’s blood-red skin wouldn't leave my mind. If Lucas had saved me, why did I remember the smell of Damon’s scent? I pushed the thought down. It didn't matter. The bond was broken, the rejection was final, and for the first time in ninety-nine years, I was leaving.

Besides, the Damon I knew would never put himself in harm's way for any other person let alone me, his despised mate who he would make sure to do anything to leave in the grave forever.