Nine
1598 Words
Selene didn’t stop walking until she was far from Damian’s quarters, far from his presence, far from the pull he still had over her—one she despised more than anything.
Her mind was spinning, her skin still tingling from where he had touched her. Not in a way that should have mattered, but in a way that sent her wolf howling in frustration.
She gritted her teeth.
She hated him for that.
For making her feel something when she should have felt nothing at all.
The cool night air hit her as she stepped out onto the Packhouse’s eastern balcony, the scent of pine and earth filling her lungs. She braced her hands against the stone railing, inhaling deeply, grounding herself.
Damian had known.
Maybe not everything, but enough. Enough to suspect Killian. Enough to suspect her.
She had walked into that room with her plan intact, but now?
Now, she was walking a knife’s edge.
And she couldn’t afford to slip.
A familiar scent drifted toward her, dark and rich, threaded with something dangerous.
She didn’t have to turn to know who it was.
“You’re late,” she murmured.
Killian’s deep chuckle ghosted over her skin. “I don’t recall setting a time.”
She turned her head slightly, finding him leaning against the stone railing beside her, arms crossed, his golden eyes gleaming in the moonlight.
He looked… untouched by the tension that had taken hold of the Packhouse.
As if he was thriving in it.
“Damian knows,” she said, cutting straight to the point.
Killian lifted a brow. “Knows what, exactly?”
She exhaled sharply. “That the council doubts him. That you’re the reason why.”
His smirk was slow, lazy. “Good.”
Selene scowled. “No, not good. He’s watching me now.”
Killian turned toward her fully, studying her with that quiet, unnerving intensity of his. “And?”
She let out a frustrated breath. “And I don’t know how much longer I can play this game before he—”
She stopped herself before she said before he does something.
Because that was the truth, wasn’t it?
Damian was many things, but patient was not one of them. If he truly thought she was a threat, he wouldn’t hesitate.
Killian watched her for a long moment before stepping closer, the heat of his body brushing against hers. “That’s exactly what we want.”
Her throat tightened. “You want him to lose control?”
His smirk deepened. “I want him to show the council the kind of leader he really is. Arrogant. Paranoid. Weak.”
Selene clenched her hands at her sides. “And what if he takes me down with him?”
Killian’s gaze darkened, and something dangerous flickered in his expression. “He won’t.”
Her breath caught.
The certainty in his voice, the possessive edge to it—it did something to her.
Something she didn’t want to name.
She swallowed hard, turning back toward the night sky. “I just need to know this is worth it.”
She wasn’t just fighting against Damian.
She was risking everything.
Killian was quiet for a moment before he spoke, his voice softer now, but no less certain.
“When this is over, you will never have to bow to him again.”
Selene’s chest tightened.
Because she wanted that.
More than anything.
And it terrified her.
She turned to face him again, searching his face for any hesitation. Any doubt.
She found none.
Just golden eyes locked onto hers, unrelenting, unshaken.
Killian Blackwood was many things.
But uncertain was not one of them.
And maybe—just maybe—that was why she was starting to believe him.
*****
Selene wasn’t sure when she had started trusting Killian. Maybe she didn’t—not fully. But as she stood on that balcony, her heartbeat steadying under his unwavering gaze, she realized something undeniable.
She believed him.
And that was dangerous enough.
She exhaled slowly, turning away from him before she said something she couldn’t take back. “The council is staying the night. That gives us until morning before they make their decision.”
Killian’s smirk was unreadable. “They won’t need until morning.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
He pushed off the railing, stretching lazily before facing her again. “I mean, Damian will show his hand long before the sun rises.”
Selene frowned. “You think he’ll act tonight?”
“I know he will.” Killian’s golden eyes gleamed in the darkness. “He’s already unraveling, Selene. You felt it in that room. The council saw it too.”
Her mind flashed back to the tension in Damian’s jaw, the way his fingers had tightened around his glass. The way he had hesitated for just a second too long when Garrick had questioned him.
Yes.
She had felt it.
But if Killian was right, then this wasn’t just about waiting for the council to doubt Damian.
It was about pushing him over the edge.
Selene swallowed hard. “What do you expect me to do?”
Killian stepped closer, close enough that the space between them became charged, his voice dropping to something low and measured.
“Nothing.”
She blinked. “Nothing?”
His smirk was sharp. “Damian will come to you. You just have to let him.”
Selene’s stomach tightened.
She knew he was right. Damian wouldn’t let what happened at dinner go unanswered. She had provoked him in front of the most powerful wolves in the pack. She had embarrassed him.
And Damian never tolerated disobedience.
Selene inhaled deeply, steeling herself. “And if he—”
Killian’s eyes darkened, something feral flickering beneath the surface. “He won’t.”
It was a promise.
One she almost believed.
She let out a slow breath. “Fine. I’ll play my part.”
Killian’s smirk softened just a fraction, something flickering behind his gaze. “You already are.”
She should have been more afraid of that.
But she wasn’t.
And that terrified her even more.
Hours Later
Selene lay awake in her quarters, staring at the ceiling, waiting.
Waiting for the inevitable.
Waiting for Damian.
The Packhouse had gone quiet, the council members long retired to their chambers, the Omegas finishing their nightly duties. Outside, the night was still, the air thick with something unspoken.
And then—
A shift in the air.
A presence.
She heard the door open before she saw him.
Damian stepped inside, silent as a shadow, closing the door behind him with a deliberate click.
Selene sat up, keeping her face unreadable, her heart steady even as her wolf stirred with unease.
He didn’t speak at first.
Just looked at her.
His dark eyes held something she couldn’t name—something beyond anger, beyond suspicion.
Something almost curious.
She refused to break the silence first.
Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet, unreadable.
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
Selene’s fingers curled against the thin blanket covering her legs. “Enjoyed what?”
A slow, bitter smile ghosted across his lips. “Making them question me.”
She held his gaze. “I only said what everyone was already thinking.”
Damian exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Two years, Selene.” His voice was soft, almost thoughtful. “Two years, and you’ve never defied me.”
Her throat tightened. “Maybe I finally learned how to survive.”
His gaze flickered. “No.” He took a slow step forward, measured, calculated. “This isn’t survival.”
She braced herself. “Then what is it?”
A beat of silence.
Then—
“Revenge.”
The word hit her harder than she expected.
Not because it was untrue.
But because it was the first time he had acknowledged it.
Selene inhaled slowly, keeping her voice steady. “And if it is?”
Damian tilted his head, studying her. “Then I should kill you.”
Her heartbeat spiked, but she forced herself not to react.
Damian wasn’t bluffing. If he truly believed she was a threat, he would eliminate her.
And yet, he hadn’t.
Not yet.
Instead, he took another step closer, stopping just before her bed.
“You think Killian is your way out of this?” His voice was almost amused. “That he’s any different than me?”
Selene clenched her jaw. “He’s nothing like you.”
Damian chuckled. “You don’t know him, Selene.” His voice dropped lower, turning almost… possessive. “Not the way I do.”
Her stomach twisted.
She knew Damian was trying to manipulate her, to plant doubt where none had existed before.
But the worst part?
A part of her wanted to know.
Damian leaned down slightly, his scent overwhelming her senses. “You can still walk away from this.”
She met his gaze, refusing to let him see her falter. “No, Damian.” Her voice was quiet, certain. “You’re the only one who’s running.”
Something dark flickered across his face.
And then, just as suddenly as he had arrived, he pulled away.
No words. No threats.
Just a long, unreadable look before he turned and left.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Selene let out a slow, shuddering breath, her heart racing.
Damian wasn’t just watching her now.
He was waiting.
Waiting for her to slip.
Waiting for a reason to strike.
And she had just made sure that when he did—
She’d be ready.
- Writer
