Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King (Emilia) novel Chapter 242

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97. Don’t Play With Me

DAMIEN’S POV

I stormed back into the house like the devil himself was chasing me. The front door slammed so hard the pictures on the wall rattled. My boots echoed through the marble foyer -loud, angry, desperate. Every step felt like I was walking on broken glass.

Matteo was right behind me, breathing heavy, but he didn’t dare speak. He knew better.

I stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, chest heaving.

“Where are they?” My voice came out rough, low, dangerous.

“Basement,” Matteo answered immediately.

I didn’t wait for more. I turned and headed straight for the stairs that led down. The air got colder with every step. The basement lights buzzed overhead–harsh, unforgiving.

Two girls sat tied to metal chairs in the center of the room. Their wrists were bound behind them with zip ties. Duct tape over their mouths. Eyes wide with terror when they saw me.

The blonde–Katie–had mascara running down her cheeks. The brunette looked like she was about to throw up.

As soon as the tape was ripped off, they both started babbling.

“Please–help us-

”

“We didn’t do anything-”

“Let us go, we swear-”

I just stood there. Staring.

Something dark and ugly boiled in my chest.

I stepped closer. Slowly. Deliberately.

The girls shrank back.

“Why,” I asked, voice deadly quiet, “did you try to hurt my fiancée during the game today?”

Katie blinked, tears spilling over. “What are you talking about? We didn’t hurt anyone-”

“Don’t. Play. With me.”

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I took another step. The room felt smaller. The air thicker.

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Katie swallowed hard. Her voice cracked. “Okay–okay, fine. If she wasn’t throwing herself at my man and minding her damn business, we wouldn’t have crossed paths. She has a fiancé, but she still wants other people’s men.”

The words hit me like ice water.

Then–rage.

Pure, white–hot, suffocating rage.

I laughed.

It was a short, ugly sound. Nothing funny about it.

“So this…” I said slowly, stepping even closer until I towered over them, “…this whole thing was because of some college boy?”

Katie nodded frantically. “Leon. From the first day she showed up, she’s been all over him. Flirting. Smiling. Acting innocent. We just wanted to scare her off. That’s it.”

“Scare her?” I repeated. The word tasted like poison.

These stupid, petty human girls thought they could scare Rose.

My Rose.

They thought they could break her with a few cheap shots on a basketball court.

The brunette piped up, voice shaking. “You know…you could ditch her and date me instead. She’s not all that.”

I turned away.

I had to.

Because if I looked at her one more second, I’d snap her neck.

I walked out without another word.

Behind me, Katie started crying harder. “Wait–please-”

I didn’t stop.

Matteo followed.

I paused at the top of the stairs. Voice flat. Cold.

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“Send them home after breaking their legs.”

Screams erupted behind me.

“No–no, you can’t-”

“Please-”

I didn’t look back.

The door shut behind me with a heavy thud.

I made it to our bedroom.

Our room.

Her scent hit me like a wave–roses, warmth, her.

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I stood by the window, staring into the night. The moon hung high in the sky and it felt like it was mocking me. I was standing here unable to do anything while my mate was out there.

My hands shook so bad I had to grip the sill to steady them.

The room felt hollow without her.

The bed still smelled like her shampoo. A pair of her sneakers sat by the door–small,

innocent.

I pressed my forehead to the cool glass.

I’d searched every goddamn place.

Every warehouse. Every abandoned lot. Every contact I had…human and wolf. Nothing.

Hours.

And still nothing.

The worst part?

I couldn’t feel her.

The mate bond was there–faint, flickering–but I couldn’t sense her emotions. Couldn’t tell if she was scared, hurt, angry. Nothing.

It was like she was…gone.

My chest squeezed. Hard.

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I rubbed at it, trying to loosen the ache.

I should still be out there. Searching. Hunting.

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But Matteo had practically dragged me back. Said I was no good to her if I burned out. Said I

needed to rest, even for an hour.

Rest.

Like I could close my eyes while she was out there.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

I snatched it up.

Maximus.

I answered. “Yeah.”

“Any word?” His voice was low, controlled, but I heard the worry underneath.

“No.” The word scraped out of my throat. “Nothing.”

Silence. Then: “You’ll find her, brother. Don’t lose hope. She’s strong. She’s yours. She’ll hold

on.”

I wanted to believe him.

I needed to believe him.

“I know,” I said, but it sounded hollow.

The call ended.

I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, head in my hands.

The silence pressed in.

Then–my phone rang again.

Unknown number.

I answered without thinking.

A small, trembling voice came through the line.

“Damien… Damien, please help me.”

My heart stopped.