The next morning comes and the first thought that lights up Damian’s mind is that he’s been a captive of this stupid Pack now for three nights, which means—
Four days.
He just needs four days.
It’s a turning point for him. A reminder that this is not really his life. That he’s not really a rogue pack leader.
That his mate isn’t being held captive by a pack of sadistic f***s and tortured. That his mate and his pack are ready to tear this whole place apart.
That he will finally be able to do something for the omega who has once again returned his shirt and saved him half a bowl of rice.
“Stubborn pup,” Damian rumbles even if he can’t hide the smile on his lips.
The omega peeks up at him from over the top of her forearms, watching him as he retrieves the shirt and the bowl.
Dami
