Fated to the Alpha Who Killed Me (by Sherry) novel Chapter 83

Fated to the Alpha Who Killed Me

Chapter 83

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“You’re mine, Violet,” he growled against my mouth, his thumb roughly wiping blood from the corner of my

lip before capturing my mouth again, slower but somehow more invasive. “This bond, this mark, this body-

all mine.”

He walked me backward toward the bed, his hands never gentle as they pushed my robe from my shoulders,

and I hated how my body arched into his touch even as I cursed and fought and told him to go to hell with

every breath I could catch. The sheets were cool against my back when he pressed me down, his weight

settling over me in a way that left no room for escape.

“I hate you,” I spat out, the words raw and honest, and his dark laugh was the only response I got.

The hours blurred into stubborn resistance and unwilling surrender, my body betraying me while I kept my

jaw locked and my eyes defiant, refusing to give him the satisfaction of my compliance. When he finally

realized I would never soften for him, his touch became almost clinical in its precision, using his knowledge

of my body to force responses I didn’t want to give. In the aftermath, as I lay trembling and furious and

exhausted, he started to retreat to his side of the bed like he always did, and rage gave me strength I

shouldn’t have had left.

I lunged at him before he could escape, using surprise to reverse our positions, and the shock in his eyes

would have been funny if I wasn’t so utterly destroyed. My hands pressed against his shoulders as I straddled him, my hair falling around us. “You wanted this,” I whispered against his ear, my voice wrecked.

“So let’s finish it.” And I rode him with a violence that had nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with reclaiming some scrap of agency, reducing this twisted bond to the physical mechanics it had always

been for him.

I woke to my phone alarm, my entire body one continuous ache, and stumbled to the bathroom without looking at the bed. The mirror reflected a stranger–tanned skin marked with purple bruises along my throat, eyes hollowed by exhaustion, lips swollen and split. Concealer and foundation became my armor,

applied until most of the damage was hidden. A high–necked burgundy sweater covered what makeup

couldn’t fix, paired with tailored black slacks.

Daemon appeared in the doorway, already dressed in a charcoal three–piece suit, his hair perfectly styled and his expression coolly neutral as though the previous night had never happened. “Be ready to leave in

thirty minutes,” he said without preamble. Then he was gone.

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17:07 Mon, Jun 8

Chapter 83

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The drive passed in tense silence, snow falling steadily as Daemon navigated with mechanical precision. I

dozed fitfully, too exhausted to stay conscious, and when I woke we were already parked.

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The dining room fell silent when I pushed through the doors. Dominic and Victoria sat at an enormous

table, but they weren’t alone–aunts, uncles, cousins filled every seat, their conversations cutting off as they

turned to stare. Victoria’s face lit up as she gestured to the empty seat beside her. “Come sit, darling.”

I slipped into the chair with a practiced smile, murmuring greetings while internally cataloging every

assessing look. “Your gifts are lovely,” Dominic said, raising a crystal tumbler. “Abyssal Amber Whiskey from

the Tidecrest territory. I didn’t think anyone could acquire this.” Victoria lifted a golden box revealing frost

lotus flowers. “However did you manage it, Violet?”

The meal stretched through eighteen courses, and I played my part perfectly–attentive to Victoria,

respectful to Dominic, engaged with the family while Daemon remained mostly silent. Then Aunt Sophia

bounced her grandson on her knee. “Victoria, you really should start pressuring these two for grandchildren.

Violet’s been married five years now.”

Every eye swiveled toward me and Daemon. Dominic’s voice cut through the silence, sharp with frustration.

“Daemon, you need to take your responsibilities seriously. This pack needs heirs.” Daemon’s jaw clenched,

and within moments he’d excused himself to the back terrace.

When I finally escaped to the garden, I found him beneath a bare oak tree, smoke curling from his cigarette.

We stood in brittle silence until his phone shattered the quiet with a ringtone I’d learned to recognize-

Celeste’s. He answered without hesitation. The bond transmitted his pleasure clearly enough, and I turned

away before I could watch him smile at his phone the way he’d never smiled at me.

I was halfway back to the house when Victoria appeared at the terrace doors, her expression pleasant but

her eyes sharp. “Violet, dear? Could you come with me for a moment? There’s something I’d like to discuss.”

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