Forsaken by the Alpha

CHAPTER EIGHT-SECRETS AND TEMPTATION

Selena's heart raced as she made her way toward Alpha's quarters. A summons from Alpha Damian was never something to be taken lightly. She wiped her clammy hands on her dress, trying to calm her nerves. Her mind buzzed with questions. Why had he sent for her? What had she done wrong this time?

As she approached the door, faint sounds filtered through, soft murmurs, slight moans, heavy breathing, and the unmistakable rustle of sheets. Her steps faltered, but before she could turn back, the Alpha’s voice, low and commanding, called out. “Come in.”

Selena hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open. The sight before her made her blood run cold. Damian stood near his bed, his shirt unbuttoned, while Seraphina, his intended mate, was pressed against him, her lips trailing along his neck.

The air was thick with tension and the scent of passion. Selena froze in place, her breath caught in her throat.

Seraphina turned sharply at the sound of the door, her expression twisting into one of disdain. “What the hell are you doing here?” she spat, venom dripping from every word.

“I... I was sent for,” Selena stammered, her gaze fixed on the floor.

Seraphina took a step forward, her heeled boots clicking against the wooden floor. “Do you have no sense of decorum? How dare you enter without knocking?”

Before Selena could respond, Damian’s deep voice cut through the room like a blade. “Seraphina.” His tone was sharp, cold, and final.

Seraphina’s head snapped toward him, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Damian, she…”

“Leave us.” His voice brooked no argument, and the weight of his authority filled the room.

Seraphina’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, it seemed she might argue. But the look in Damian’s eyes silenced her. She huffed, gathering her dress as she brushed past Selena with an infuriated glare.

When the door slammed shut behind her, the silence that followed was deafening.

Damian turned to face Selena fully, his piercing eyes locking onto hers. “Come here,” he ordered, his voice softer but no less commanding.

Selena hesitated, her feet rooted to the floor.

“I won’t ask again,” he added, his gaze darkening.

Reluctantly, she stepped closer, her pulse hammering in her ears. Damian crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as they zeroed in on her neck.

“The mark,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “The crescent on your neck. Where did it come from?”

Selena’s hand instinctively rose to cover the mark, her fingers brushing over the raised skin. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’ve had it for as long as I can remember.”

Damian’s brows furrowed, his expression unreadable. “And your parents? Did they ever mention it?”

Selena shook her head, her voice trembling. “They have never really talked about it since it was from birth and I don’t know what it means.” she responded quietly.

He took a step closer, and then another, until the space between them was almost nonexistent. The heat of his presence was suffocating, his scent intoxicating. Selena pressed her back against the wall, her heart pounding like a drum.

Damian leaned in, his gaze locked onto hers. “That mark…” His voice was barely a whisper now, laced with something she couldn’t identify. “It’s not ordinary.”

Selena swallowed hard, her hands trembling as they clutched the fabric of her dress. “Alpha, please… I don’t understand.”

Damian’s hand lifted, brushing aside the tendrils of hair that obscured the mark. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but it sent shivers down her spine. His eyes darkened as he examined the crescent-shaped scar more closely, as if it held answers to questions he hadn’t even asked yet.

Selena’s breath hitched as his face lingered near hers. The intensity of his gaze was overwhelming, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe.

The air between them was charged, every second stretching into eternity. Damian’s hand dropped from her neck, but his body remained close, his presence dominating.

“I don’t understand what you are, Selena,” he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “But I will find out. That mark, it’s tied to something. Something that involves me.”

Selena’s mind raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and fear. She didn’t know what he meant, didn’t understand why the mark mattered so much to him.

Something involving the alpha?...what could he mean. she thought loudly.

All she knew was the magnetic pull between them, the way his proximity made her pulse quicken and her thoughts blur.

Damian stepped back abruptly, breaking the spell. He turned away, running a hand through his hair as if trying to regain control.

Without another word, he grabbed a bottle of shampoo from his wardrobe and tossed it towards her arms. “Wash up, your hair is a mess,” he said, his voice hard once more.

Selena didn’t argue, didn’t ask questions. She simply nodded and fled the room, her heart still racing.

When the door closed behind her, Damian let out a heavy sigh. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, the tension in his body refusing to ease.

He couldn’t deny the truth any longer. Selena wasn’t just a servant, she wasn’t just a girl with a mysterious mark.

She was his mate. And no matter how much he tried to fight it, no matter how much he resented the Moon Goddess for her choice, he couldn’t escape the bond that tied them together.

But what terrified him most wasn’t the bond. It was the way she made him feel, the way she made him want to let down his guard, to be vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been in years.

The weight of it sat heavily on his chest, suffocating him with every passing thought. Selena was more than just a girl with a crescent birthmark.

She was a force of nature, unknowingly chipping away at his carefully constructed armor.

And that, more than anything, was dangerous.

Damian let out a low growl, running a hand over his face as if it could wipe away the image of her. Her lips were etched into his mind, full and slightly parted, as if inviting him to taste the sweetness he knew he shouldn’t want.

They haunted him, especially when she bit her lower lip in thought, a nervous habit he had noticed far too often.

He had caught himself staring more than once, his resolve faltering as desire bubbled to the surface, uncontrollable and raw.

Her eyes, those wide, expressive orbs, seemed to hold the world in them. They had a way of meeting him, not with defiance, but with something deeper, an unspoken challenge, a quiet strength that shook him to his core. It was maddening.

How could someone so unassuming have this effect on him? How could she, of all people, make him question his every move, every choice, every breath?

Damian clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want her. Yet, the thought of her leaning on his bed again, of her small frame curled up like she belonged there, made his chest tighten in ways he couldn’t explain.

She was forbidden, a servant, a reminder of the Moon Goddess’s cruelty. But none of that mattered when she was near. None of it mattered when her scent lingered in the air, intoxicating him like a drug he couldn’t resist.

The memory of her soft hair brushing against her neck flashed before him, the crescent mark hidden just beneath.

His fingers twitched at the thought of touching it, of tracing the mark that seemed to connect them in ways he couldn’t understand. What was it about her that drew him in? Was it the mark? The bond? Or was it simply her?

Damian stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t let her invade his thoughts, his control. She was a weakness, one he couldn’t afford.

But even as he paced the room, trying to shake her from his mind, the pull of her lingered, a constant ache that refused to let go.

For years, he had prided himself on his discipline, on his ability to control every aspect of his life. And yet, one girl, a servant, the pack's maid, was unraveling him piece by piece.

He hated her for it. He hated the Moon Goddess for tying them together. But most of all, he hated himself for wanting her, for needing her in a way that terrified him.

The night stretched on, and Damian finally sank back into his chair, his head in his hands. He couldn’t deny it any longer: Selena wasn’t just in his thoughts.

She was in his blood, in his very soul, and no matter how much he resisted, no matter how much he tried to push her away, she was a part of him now. And that realization, more than anything, was the most dangerous of all.