LOGINChapter Five
I woke up to sunlight burning through my curtains. My body ached. My lips still tingled from where he'd almost kissed me. Almost. I pressed my fingers to my mouth. Remembered the way he'd looked at me. The way his hands felt on my waist. The way he'd pulled away like I was poison. I sat up. Looked at the clock. Nine AM. I'd barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. Felt him. Heard his voice saying things he shouldn't say. I got up. Showered. Put on jeans and a simple shirt. Sprayed the perfume. The chemical smell made my stomach turn. I stared at myself in the mirror. Five years. Five years and nothing changed. I was still hiding. Still pretending. Still invisible. I went downstairs. Voices came from the dining room. Laughter. I stopped at the doorway. They were all there. Mom. Dad. Isabella. Daemon. Having breakfast like a happy family. Isabella was sitting next to Daemon. Her hand on his arm. Smiling up at him. He was looking at his plate. Jaw tight. "Irabella!" Mom's voice was sharp. "Don't just stand there. Sit down." I walked to the table. Took the seat across from them. As far away as possible. Daemon's eyes flicked to me. Then away. Like I wasn't there. Like last night didn't happen. "Did you sleep well, Ira?" Isabella asked. Her voice was sweet. Innocent. But her eyes were calculating. "Fine," I said. "You left the ball so early. We barely got to spend time together." She squeezed Daemon's arm. "Didn't we, darling?" "Yes," he said. His voice was flat. Empty. "I wasn't feeling well," I lied. "Oh no." Isabella's face filled with fake concern. "Are you sick? Should we call a doctor?" "I'm fine now." A maid brought me coffee. I took it. Grateful for something to do with my hands. "We're planning a family dinner next week," Dad said. "The pack council will be there. Important people." "Sounds nice," I said. I didn't care. "You'll be there," Mom said. It wasn't a question. "Of course." Isabella leaned forward. "It'll be wonderful. Just like old times. The whole family together." She looked at me when she said it. Smiled. I wanted to throw my coffee in her face. "I'm thinking of redecorating the Luna suite," Isabella continued. "Daemon's been so busy with pack business, he barely notices the house anymore." She laughed. Light. Musical. Daemon said nothing. Just cut his food. Ate. Didn't look up. "Maybe Irabella can help," Isabella said. "She always had good taste." "I'm not interested in decorating," I said. "Oh, come on. It'll be fun. Sisters spending time together." The word 'sisters' felt like a slap. "I have other things to do," I said. "Like what?" Mom asked. "I need to get out. Run errands." "Well, don't be gone too long," Dad said. "We're having dinner together tonight." "All of us," Isabella added. She looked at Daemon. Then at me. "One big happy family." I finished my coffee in silence. Daemon still hadn't looked at me once. After breakfast, I escaped upstairs. I was halfway to my room when I heard footsteps behind me. Mom. "Irabella. Wait." I stopped. Turned. She was holding something. More perfume bottles. "Here." She pushed them into my hands. "You're running low." I looked down at the bottles. Three of them. "I have enough," I said. "You can never have enough." Her eyes were sharp. "Isabella mentioned Daemon seemed distracted last night." My heart jumped. "So?" "So." She stepped closer. Lowered her voice. "You didn't do anything, did you?" "Like what?" "Don't play stupid. You know exactly what I mean." I met her gaze. "I didn't do anything." "Good. Keep it that way." She glanced down the hallway. Made sure we were alone. "He's your brother-in-law now. Isabella's husband. You stay away from him." "I am staying away from him." "I mean it, Irabella. Don't ruin this for your sister. She's finally happy. Finally healthy. Don't you dare take that from her." "I'm not taking anything from anyone." "Just remember what I said." She turned to leave. Stopped. "And wear the perfume. Always." She walked away. I looked down at the bottles in my hands. My cage. I went to my room. Dropped them on the dresser with the others. A whole row of them now. Like soldiers. Lined up to keep me hidden. I grabbed my bag. My phone. My keys. I needed to get out of this house. I drove into town. Parked near Main Street. The pack town was small. Quaint. Shops lined both sides of the street. People walked in and out. Talking. Laughing. Normal people living normal lives. I got out of the car. Started walking. I passed a group of women. They stopped talking when they saw me. Stared. I kept walking. "Is that her?" "The one who attacked Luna Isabella?" "I can't believe she's back." Their voices carried. Loud enough for me to hear. Loud enough for everyone to hear. I walked faster. The coffee shop was at the corner. I went inside. The bell above the door chimed. Everyone turned to look. The barista's smile faded when she saw me. "What can I get you?" she asked. Her voice was cold. "Coffee. Black. To go." She made it in silence. Handed it to me. I paid. She took my money without a word. I left. Walked to the bookstore across the street. Maybe I could disappear in there for a while. Lose myself in books. I pushed open the door. A woman was at the counter. She looked up. Her face hardened. "We don't want any trouble," she said. I stopped. "I'm just here to buy a book." "I think you should leave." "I haven't done anything." "You attacked the Luna. That's enough." She crossed her arms. "Get out." I stared at her. Five years. Five years and they still looked at me like I was a monster. I turned around. Left. Walked back to my car. My hands were shaking. My chest felt tight. I couldn't stay here. Couldn't live in this town where everyone hated me. Where everyone believed Isabella's lies. I threw my coffee in a trash can. Got in my car. Drove. Didn't know where I was going. Didn't care. I just needed to move. To breathe. I ended up on the outskirts of town. Near the forest. Pulled over. Got out. Walked into the trees. The quiet was better. No whispers. No stares. Just me and the woods. I walked until my legs hurt. Until I couldn't hear the road anymore. Then I stopped. Leaned against a tree. Closed my eyes. This was my life now. Hated by the pack. Trapped in my parents' house. Watching my mate love my sister. I opened my eyes. Started walking back. The walk took longer than I thought. The sun was lower when I got back to my car. I drove back to town. I was almost to the house when I saw it. Daemon's car. Parked outside the pack council building. My heart jumped. I should drive past. Go home. But I didn't. I parked down the street. Got out. Told myself I just needed to walk. Clear my head. I walked past shops. Past people who stared. Turned a corner. And walked straight into someone. Strong hands caught my arms. Steadied me. I looked up. Daemon. We both froze. His hands were still on my arms. His scent surrounded me. Pine. Earth. Him. The bond flared. Hot. Immediate. I stepped back. His hands dropped. "Sorry," I said. My voice came out rough. "Are you okay?" he asked. His eyes searched my face. "Fine." "You don't look fine." I looked away. "I'm fine." "What are you doing here?" "Just walking. You?" "Council meeting." He gestured to the building behind him. Of course. Alpha duties. We stood there. Silent. The air between us felt heavy. Charged. "You should get home," he said finally. "I know." But neither of us moved. His eyes were on me. Intense. Searching. Like he was trying to figure something out. "Be careful," he said quietly. I frowned. "Careful of what?" He didn't answer right away. Just looked at me. "Just... be careful." Then he turned. Walked away. Back toward the council building. I stood there. Watching him go. Be careful. What did that mean? Careful of the pack who hated me? Careful of Isabella? Or careful of him? I didn't know. I walked back to my car. Drove home. The house was quiet when I got back. I went straight to my room. Locked the door. Sat on my bed. Stared at the perfume bottles on my dresser. Be careful. His voice echoed in my head. I lay back. Stared at the ceiling. This was day one. Day one of being back. Of pretending everything was normal. Of hiding what I was. Of watching him from a distance. I closed my eyes. This was going to kill me. Slowly. Painfully. But I had no choice. This was my life now.CHAPTER FORTY-SIX — "NEVER YOUR DAUGHTER"Irabella's POVDaemon walked out first.The door closed behind him and the room changed immediately — the air shifting, the last buffer between me and my parents gone, the specific quality of a space that had just lost the only person in it with the power to make anyone behave.My mother's hand closed around my arm before the click of the latch had finished.Hard. Immediate. The grip that didn't ask, that had never once in twenty-six years asked — that simply took, because taking had always been the language she used with me and she saw no reason to learn another."Did you tell him."Not a question. An accusation wearing the shape of one, her voice low and furious, the fury of a woman who had already decided on the verdict and was simply going through the procedural motion of asking."You ungrateful child." Her grip tightened. I felt the bones of my arm compress and said nothing. "How could you do this to your sister. After everything we've —
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE — "THE TEST"Irabella's POVDaemon's face gave nothing away.That was the first thing I noticed — standing two steps behind him in the hospital corridor, watching him push Isabella's door open without knocking, without softening his posture, without any of the small adjustments people made when they were entering a room they were uncertain of. He walked in the way he walked into every room he'd already decided to own.His jaw was set. His eyes were flat. Whatever was moving behind them had been put somewhere unreachable before he'd crossed the threshold.Isabella was already watching the door.She'd been watching it — I understood that immediately, from the angle of her head, from the way she was positioned against the pillows with the IV line visible and her hands folded just so. She sat up the moment he entered, and the sitting-up was its own performance — slow, careful, the specific stiffness of a woman whose body was still recovering. Her shoulders curved in. He
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR — "TRUMP CARD"Isabella's POVThe smirk came before the phone was fully down.I felt it arrive — slow, satisfied, the kind that didn't perform for anyone because there was no one in the room to perform for. Just me, and the phone, and the specific warmth of a plan clicking into its final position."Daemon, baby."I said it to the empty room. To the ceiling. To the photo still faintly glowing on my screen — his face, composed and certain, the face he wore in every room and had worn beside mine on the day I had made him mine."You're mine." My voice came out low and absolute. "Only mine." I looked at the photo for one more second. "I won't let anyone take you from me. Not even fate itself."I hummed.A small sound. Private. The specific contentment of a woman who had spent twenty-six years learning that the only thing standing between her and what she wanted was the willingness to reach for it.I started counting.Five.My thumb moved to the recording app. Opened it.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE — "MUM"Isabella's POVThe phone rang twice.I had the tears ready before anyone answered.Not produced — constructed. Built from the inside out, the specific architecture of grief that I had refined over twenty-six years into something I could deploy in under three seconds. The breath catching at the right interval. The slight thickening of the throat. The quality of sound that made people on the other end of a phone reach for something to hold onto before they'd processed a single word.The line opened."Mum." My voice cracked on cue — not too much, never too much, just enough to land in the chest of whoever was listening and stay there. "Dad. I'm going to die. My life is ruined. It's over, Mum."A sharp intake of breath. My mother's voice, immediately stripped of everything except alarm."Isabella. What happened — what's wrong—""Ira." I let the name arrive alone. Let it sit on the line like an accusation before I added anything to it. Then the sob — full, break
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO — "VERIFICATION"Daemon's POVThe pack doctor's office smelled like antiseptic and old paper.Daemon had been here twice in twenty years. Once when he was nineteen and had taken a silver blade to the shoulder in a border dispute that he'd won and not told his father about. Once the night his first Beta died, when the grief had expressed itself physically in the way pack bonds sometimes did — as something that had to be verified and not just felt.He hadn't been here since.He set the bottle on the desk without sitting down. Without preamble. Just placed it in the center of the desk lamp's light and stepped back and watched Dr. Whitmore's face.The doctor looked at it.At him.Back at the bottle — his hand reaching for it slowly, the careful, unhurried movement of a man approaching something he already recognized and was taking his time confirming. He turned it once under the light. The liquid inside caught the glow and held it.His expression changed.Not dramaticall
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE — "DOUBT"Irabella's POV"Scent-hiding potion."He said it quietly. The specific quiet that had no heat in it — no anger, nothing as readable as anger. Just low and measured and absolutely still, the voice of a man who had already organized his thoughts and was now simply waiting to see what I did with mine."Why do you have more than one bottle."My brain stopped.Not slowed. Stopped. Every rehearsed answer, every exit route, every version of a lie I might have constructed in advance — gone. Cleared out by the single fact of him standing there with that bottle in his hand and those eyes on my face, reading it the way he read everything, with the unhurried certainty of someone who was very rarely wrong.His gaze didn't move.Full weight. The kind that didn't blink, didn't shift, didn't give an inch — it pinned me to the spot as effectively as a hand would have, and my body registered it the same way. My pulse had gone somewhere frantic. My hands, at my sides, had cur
. "Don't Touch Me"He was expecting me.I could tell the moment I pushed the office door open — the way he was sitting, chair angled slightly toward the door, no surprise on his face, no adjustment. Just that wall. That absolute unreadable wall looking back at me like he'd set a clock and I'd arri
CHAPTER FOUR — "Under"The scent was everywhere.In the walls. In my lungs. In the space behind my eyes where rational thought used to live. I gripped the doorframe and felt the wood under my fingers and focused on that — the grain, the edge, the physical reality of it — because everything else had
CHAPTER THREE — "Wrong Name"He came home and the room was perfect.I'd made sure of it.Two hours. Every detail. The petals spread across white sheets, the lamp turned low, the perfume I knew he'd smell the moment he stepped through the door. The red lingerie that cost more than most people's rent
His hand found my thigh under the table.I didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Kept my eyes on Derek across the table, kept the polite curve on my lips, kept breathing through my nose like my whole body hadn't just caught fire from the inside out.His palm slid higher.Slow. Deliberate. Like he had all ni







