Fated to the Alpha Who Killed Me (by Sherry) novel Chapter 82

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My phone buzzed against the silk sheets, Celeste’s name glowing in the darkness. I stared at it for three

rings before answering, bringing it to my ear without speaking. The silence stretched between us, filled only

with her shallow breathing, and I could practically hear her internal debate about whether to ask where

Daemon had gone tonight, whether he’d mentioned her name, whether whatever they’d shared in that

northern city had meant anything at all.

“Violet?” Her voice was tentative.

“It’s late, Celeste,” I said quietly, my hand gripping the duvet that still smelled faintly of Daemon’s cologne.

“I know, I just–I saw you were online and I thought…” She trailed off, then pivoted with practiced

casualness. “Daemon mentioned he’s heading back tomorrow for his father’s birthday celebration. I’m so

jealous you get to spend time with your family like that.”

The words were light, conversational, but I heard what lay beneath them–she knew his schedule, knew his

obligations, knew enough about his life to comment on it as if she had a right to that knowledge. My chest

tightened as I recognized the strategy, the careful probing disguised as friendly chitchat.

“Mmm,” I murmured noncommittally, refusing to give her the reaction she was fishing for.

Another pause, then her tone shifted, became more intimate. “I heard you and Zane went to rescue a stray

dog today? That’s so sweet. You two seemed like you were having a great time.”

Ice flooded my veins. How did she know about that? Had Daemon told her, thrown my afternoon with Zane

in her face as proof of my infidelity while he’d been free to wine and dine her in hotel conference rooms?

Before I could respond, she continued, her voice dropping to something that almost sounded apologetic.

“Actually, I should probably be honest with you about something. I’ve suspected for a while that Zane has

feelings for you–different feelings, I mean. That’s part of why I chose to end our bond. It didn’t seem fair to

hold him back when his heart was clearly wandering toward someone else.”

The statement landed like a carefully aimed blade, wrapped in the guise of confession and self–sacrifice. She

was telling me she’d stepped aside for Zane’s sake, that she was the noble one who’d noticed his affection

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Chapter 82

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for me and graciously removed herself from the equation. The subtext was clear as crystal–she was warning

me, establishing a narrative where I was the interloper who’d stolen her boyfriend’s attention. Guilt twisted

in my stomach because I had been using Zane, hadn’t I, leveraging his kindness to fill the hollow spaces

Daemon left behind.

Behind me, the bathroom door opened, releasing a cloud of steam and the scent of pine and mint body

wash. Daemon emerged in a black robe that hung open just enough to reveal the defined lines of his chest,

his dark hair still damp and tousled. I fumbled with the phone, nearly dropping it as I scrambled to end the

call.

“I have to go,” I whispered into the receiver, not waiting for her response before disconnecting.

I stood quickly, the room tilting slightly as blood rushed from my head. “I should get back to the guest

room,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt, and moved toward the door.

His hand caught the doorframe before I could reach for the handle, his body blocking my exit. “Where do

you think you’re going?” The question was quiet, almost conversational, but the steel underneath made my

spine straighten instinctively.

I forced myself to turn and face him, to meet those blood–red eyes. “Back to my room. This is your space.”

“This is the master bedroom,” he corrected, his voice still that dangerous calm. “It belongs to both of us,

remember?”

I didn’t get to start. His mouth crashed against mine with a force that stole my breath, his hand fisting in

my hair to angle my head exactly where he wanted it, and there was nothing gentle or loving in the kiss–it

was pure possession, a physical claim designed to remind me who I belonged to. I tasted copper where our

teeth clashed, felt the sharp sting as he bit down on my lower lip hard enough to break skin. When I tried

to shove against his chest he simply caught my wrists and pinned them against the door, his larger frame

caging me completely as he swallowed every protest.

The bond flared hot and insistent, Alpha pheromones flooding my senses until my knees went weak despite

the fury burning in my chest, my body responding even as my mind screamed at me to fight harder. When

he finally pulled back we were both breathing hard, blood on both our lips.

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