claim by the alpha

*CHAPTER 2: The First Week

*CLAIMED BY THE ALPHA*

*CHAPTER 2: The First Week*

The mark didn’t stop burning.

Day 1.

Day 2.

Day 3.

It was like he’d branded me with a hot iron and left it there.

And the worst part?

It got worse when he was near.

I was in the kitchen at 7am. Coffee. Alone.

Or so I thought.

“Morning.”

I jumped. Spilled coffee on my hand.

Damon.

In the doorway. Gray sweatpants. Black t-shirt. Hair still wet.

He looked... tired.

“Sorry,” he said.

“For what? Existing?”

“For this.” He gestured to my neck. To the scarf I wore to hide it.

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is.”

He poured his own coffee. Didn’t look at me.

“The bond is settling,” he said finally. “It’ll hurt less in a week.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve seen it before.”

That stopped me.

“You’ve marked someone before?”

“No.” He took a sip. “My brother. He marked his omega 5 years ago. I watched.”

Oh.

Right. He had a brother. Older. Dead.

Car accident.

That’s why Damon became Alpha so young.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be.” He set the cup down. “Rule 1 still stands. Don’t leave without security.”

“Yes sir.”

“Abi.”

“What?”

“Don’t.”

He left.

---

*Day 4*

The dreams started.

His dreams.

I’d wake up at 3am with his grief in my chest.

With the taste of whiskey on my tongue.

With the sound of his brother’s name in my head.

And he’d be awake too.

I could feel it.

Through the bond.

Through the walls.

On night 4, I couldn’t take it.

I knocked on his office door at 2am.

“Go away.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Neither can I.”

I opened the door.

He was behind his desk. Shirt off. Running a hand through his hair.

Bottles everywhere.

“You’re drinking again.”

“I’m not sleeping again.”

I stepped in. Closed the door.

“The bond,” I said. “It’s making me feel you.”

“I know.”

“So do something.”

“What do you want me to do, Abi? Cut it off?”

The air was thick.

Him. Me. Grief. Anger.

And under it, something else.

Need.

“I hate this,” I said.

“Me too.”

“But it doesn’t feel like hate.”

His head snapped up. Golden eyes locked on mine.

“Don’t,” he warned.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say things you’ll regret.”

I was 19. Grieving. Marked.

And so, so tired of being alone.

I walked to his desk.

“What if I don’t regret it?”

He stood. Fast.

“Go to bed, Abi.”

“Make me.”

He was in front of me in a second.

Not touching. But close enough that I could feel his heat.

Smell him. Pine and storm and whiskey.

“Rule 3,” he said, voice shaking. “We pretend the bond doesn’t exist.”

“Then why are you shaking?”

His hands fisted at his sides.

“Because if I touch you, I won’t stop.”

“Then don’t start.”

We stared at each other.

Breathing hard.

The bond pulled between us like a rope.

Finally, he stepped back.

“Go,” he said. “Before I break every rule I have.”

I ran.

---

*Day 6*

Pack training.

Mandatory for all omegas under an Alpha’s protection.

Self defense.

To “keep us safe.”

I didn’t want to go.

“You have to,” Damon said. Dropping me off. “It’s the law.”

The training room was full of omegas.

All younger than me. All staring.

Because word got out.

_The Alpha marked a 19 year old. His stepdaughter._

The instructor was a beta woman named Mara.

“Pair up,” she said.

No one chose me.

Until Damon walked in.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

But he was.

In black training pants and a tank top.

Muscles. Scars.

And eyes only for me.

“Partner,” he said.

The room went silent.

We trained.

He was careful. Too careful.

Every time his hands touched me to correct my stance, the mark burned.

Every time I breathed, I smelled him.

“Again,” he said.

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Damon—”

“Mr. Blackwood,” he corrected. Loud. For everyone.

Right.

We were pretending.

At the end, Mara pulled me aside.

“The bond is strong,” she said quietly. “You need to be careful. Alpha bonds can trigger heat early.”

“I’m not—”

“You will be,” she cut me off. “Within the month. Prepare.”

My blood ran cold.

I found Damon by his car.

“We need to talk.”

“Later.”

“Now.”

He looked at me. Really looked.

Saw something in my face.

“Get in.”

In the car, I told him.

About the heat. About what Mara said.

He gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“We have one month,” he said. “To figure this out.”

“Figure what out?”

“How to not ruin your life.”

We didn’t speak the rest of the drive.

---

*Day 7*

One week.

Dinner was silent.

Just me and him and Clara serving food no one ate.

After, he stopped me in the hallway.

“Abi.”

“What?”

“The pack is asking questions. About you. About us.”

“So?”

“So Elena wants to have you over. For tea.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I do. I’m not your real—”

“You’re marked,” he said. “That makes you real to them.”

He sighed. Rubbed his temples.

“Look. I know this is hell. For both of us. But it’s only one year. We can do one year.”

“Can we?”

He didn’t answer.

Just looked at my neck.

At the mark.

“I’ll send security with you tomorrow,” he said. “For tea.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“I know.”

“But you’ll go?”

“I’ll go.”

He turned to walk away.

“Damon.”

He stopped.

“Thank you. For saving me.”

He didn’t turn around.

“Go to bed, Abi.”

I did.

And for the first time in a week, I didn’t dream his dreams.

I dreamed my own.

Of my mom.

And of him.

Standing between me and the world.

---

*11:47pm. His office.*

Damon sat alone.

Whiskey in hand.

Staring at the photo on his desk.

Him and his brother. Age 17 and 20.

Laughing.

The bond tugged.

Grief. From her room.

She was dreaming of her mom.

He closed his eyes.

_One year,_ he told himself.

_One year and she’s free._

But the mark on her neck was already under his skin.

And he had no idea how he was going to let her go.

---

*END CHAPTER 2*

OH MY GOD THE TENSION 😭 The heat warning, the training, the dreams, Elena’s tea??