Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother - Chapter 201

Chapter 201: Chapter 201
Damien’s POV

I couldn’t stop.

The second my lips crashed against hers, the world narrowed to this single point of contact. Her. Finally. *Mine*.

Three years of hell burned away in an instant.

She fought immediately. Her hands shoved hard against my chest. Her body twisted violently, trying to break free. Every muscle in her small frame straining against me.

“Let go!” The words came out muffled. “Damien—stop—”

I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

My hand fisted in her hair—shorter now, rougher than I remembered—and yanked her head back. The kiss deepened. Turned brutal.

She was drowning and I was the ocean.

A sound tore from her throat. Half protest, half something else. Something that made my wolf howl with savage satisfaction.

Her struggles grew more frantic. Nails raking down my neck hard enough to draw blood. Feet kicking at my shins. Her whole body screaming to run.

But I held tighter. Pressed closer. Eliminated every inch of space between us until I couldn’t tell where I ended and she began.

“Stop fighting,” I growled against her mouth.

“Fuck you!” She bit my lip viciously.

The pain shot straight through me. Sharp. Electric. Perfect.

Blood—mine this time—mixed with the kiss. Metallic. Raw. It only made the hunger worse.

I spun her around and slammed her against the wall with enough force to rattle the picture frames. My body pinned hers completely. Both her wrists caught in one of my hands, trapped above her head.

She was caged. Caught. At my mercy.

And God forgive me, I loved it.

“Three years.” Each word came out harsh. Barely controlled. “Three years you’ve been gone. Three years I’ve searched. And you’ve been here. Fighting. Bleeding. Nearly dying.”

“I didn’t—” she gasped. “I didn’t ask you to search!”

“You didn’t have to ask!” My free hand cupped her throat. Not squeezing. Just holding. Feeling her pulse hammer against my palm like a caged bird. “You’re mine, Sera. You’ve always been mine.”

“Let me go—”

“Never.”

I kissed her again. Harder. Deeper. Swallowing her protests. Her resistance. Everything.

For maybe five seconds, she kept fighting. Her body rigid. Refusing.

Then something broke.

The tension bled out of her like air from a punctured tire. Her lips stopped resisting. Started moving with mine instead. Hesitant at first. Then desperate. Hungry.

A sound escaped her. Low. Wounded. Achingly familiar.

My wolf roared in triumph. *Yes. OURS. Finally OURS.*

Her body melted against me. No longer fighting. Surrendering instead.

I released her wrists. Both my hands went to her waist—so much smaller than I remembered, Christ, when did she get so thin?—and I lifted her like she weighed nothing.

Three steps to the bed.

I threw her down. She bounced on the mattress, hair splaying out like a dark halo. Her eyes flew open—wide and shocked and still wet with tears.

For a heartbeat, we just stared at each other.

Her chest heaving. My control hanging by a thread.

Then I was on her.

My weight pressed her into the mattress. My hands everywhere. Tracing the lines of her body. Relearning. Reclaiming.

“Damien—” Her voice cracked. “Wait—”

I didn’t wait.

My hands found the hem of her shirt—that blood-soaked, torn excuse for clothing—and pulled hard.

The fabric ripped like paper.

“No!” She came alive again. Fighting. “Stop! Don’t—”

Her nails raked across my face. I barely felt it.

All I could see was red. Literal red tinging my vision. My wolf so close to the surface that my canines were fully descended. Claws extended.

*Mine. She’s MINE. Brand her. Mark her. Make sure she can NEVER leave again.*

I caught both her wrists and slammed them above her head. Pinned them with one hand while the other went to her throat.

Not choking. Just holding. Possessing.

“You’re mine,” I said quietly. Each word deliberate. Final. “You’ve always been mine. You’ll die mine. And I’m done pretending otherwise.”

Her eyes widened. Fear mixed with something else. Something that made my blood burn hotter.

I lowered my head. My lips found that spot where her neck met her shoulder. The sacred place. The claiming place.

Where my mark should have been three years ago.

Where it was going to be right now.

My canines scraped against her skin. She went completely still. Like prey realizing it’s been caught.

“Please—” The word was barely a whisper.

*Do it,* Alex snarled. *Mark her NOW. Make her ours forever.*

My jaw opened wider.

Then I looked at her.

Her body beneath mine was covered in bruises. Fresh ones. Old ones. Some so dark they looked black against her pale skin. Her ribs—I could count every single one. Bandages covered burns. Cuts crisscrossed her arms and shoulders and probably places I couldn’t see.

And she was shaking. Her whole body trembling like she was freezing. Like she was dying.

Not from arousal.

From terror.

Of me.

The realization hit like a bucket of ice water.

I pulled back slowly. Stared down at this broken, terrified woman beneath me.

And I’d just attacked her like some kind of animal.

“Fuck.” The word came out strangled.

I climbed off her immediately. Grabbed my jacket from where I’d thrown it and covered her. Hid all those injuries. All that damage. All that proof of what my absence had done to her.

She curled into a ball the second I released her. Pulling the jacket tight around her shaking body. Still crying. Harder now.

“Sera—”

“Just go.” Her voice was so small. So broken. “Please. Just go.”

Everything in me screamed to stay. To pull her back into my arms. To fix this somehow.

But I couldn’t.

I’d just proven exactly why she’d been right to run.

I forced myself toward the door. Each step felt like walking through concrete.

But I stopped at the threshold. Turned back.

She was still curled up. Still shaking. My jacket barely covering her destroyed body.

“Don’t even think about running.” My voice came out cold. Hard. The Alpha voice that made grown wolves submit. “Because this time? I’ll find you in hours. Not years. And when I do, there won’t be any more chances.”