CHAPTER SIX-MADELINE

I know that scent. I'll know it anywhere. It feels like it's wrapping around my body like a snake, trying to strangle out every breath I take. As he walks closer, I notice parts about him that look nothing like the Damien I know.

His hair is shoulder length now, longer than I remember Damien would ever let it go and he's larger— Bigger, than before. His shoulders are broad, his chest so wide that I know if he decides to pull me into his arms and hold me there, I'd never be able to get away.

And goddess, his height…

I don't know why I stand transfixed as he reaches the counter, his hands resting on it. He's in a suit, an Armani suit, maybe. It looks good. It looks really—

My thoughts come to a stop the second he turns his head to look at me. His eyelids look droopy and barely open, like his eyes are lifeless now though I can still see the slight red swirling in its blackness and his jawline… Sharp. So sharp I find myself swallowing.

I can pick a scar around his neck, circling it around like a halo. I realize slightly that he never had scars— Nor did he look like this but I never get to say it as he suddenly grabs me by the back of my neck and pulls me close to him.

My body instantly freezes, my breath hitching as well as he buries his nose into my face. My legs nearly give up as I hear him take a sniff, goosebumps running all over my body as I hear him let out a small satisfied growl in my ear before I snap out of it and pull myself away.

Before I can even think twice about what I'm doing, I punch his face. Though he doesn't even blink, I hear my bones snap as pain fills my entire hand. I bite hard on my lip to hold back a scream as I hold my wrist and try to ignore how it feels like tiny needles are piercing into my fingers.

I look up at him now, noticing the first sign of emotion on his face since he walked in— Amusement. “Oh, fuck you.”

“Yes. I agree. I'll fuck you.” His voice is different as well. Rougher. Like he's speaking from the depth of his soul.

I can feel every sound he makes vibrating through the ground into my body to the space between my legs. It does its number well enough to make the pain in my hand lessen as I watch him turn back to the receptionist and say, “I want her. How much?”

How much? “I'm not for sale.”

He doesn't answer me. His focus stays on the lady now who's still smiling as brightly as possible to him. “She is not a part of the program, Alpha. I apologize.”

“I'll increase my donations. Make hers five thousand dollars a week.”

What? My heart begins to race again. Does he remember who I am? It doesn't look like he does. I don't want him to but it doesn't make sense for anyone to randomly say what he's saying, to do what he's doing but it's Damien. Damien had always been irrational.

To my surprise, a displeased look crosses the receptionist's face. I can tell now that she no longer plans on being polite with him anymore as she says, “I apologize again but she does not wish to join our agency. There is nothing we can do if her choices do not align with what we do here.”

The air tenses instantly. His pheromones worsen and I can feel myself beginning to choke on it though I try to hold it back in. The woman in question looks sick. Her eyes don't blink away from him then all of a sudden, it vanishes and everything is fine again as he turns to look at me, his eyes blinking at me softly, “What is your name?”

My name?

He doesn't know who I am. He doesn't remember me.

I don't know how that makes me feel. Pleasure. Pain. If he doesn't remember me, it means I never mattered. But at the same time, it means that Lucas and I are safe. He's not going to come for my child. I'm fine. I'm safe. That's all that mattered. What happened in the past will remain in the past.

I stand erect now, fighting down the pain strangling me now as I say with as much venom as possible, “I will not be telling you.”

“Alright,”

His response shocks me, especially since I didn't expect him to respond like that. He walks towards me now and though I start to move backwards, his hand wraps around my waist, keeping me stable as he holds up my broken hand now by the wrist.

I wince, fighting hard so I don't show any signs of weakness to him. I can feel his eyes rummaging through my face, waiting for any single signs to feed on before he says quietly, “An Omega who refuses to submit, and you also refuse to let me have you. Interesting”

His voice sounds like a siren lulling me into the waters. Calm and yielding. If I close my eyes for a second, I can feel myself about to go on my knees and beg him to take me but I force myself to stay awake and alert as I say, “Have someone else.”

“Are you telling me what to do, little one?”

The nickname sends a shudder up my spine, especially since I realize now how tiny and insignificant I look standing next to him. My body begins to heat up again, every nerve in my body coiling with each word he says. Goddess, how is it this hard to resist one person? “I'm telling you to leave me alone.”

Damien Bloodhound stares at me silently. His black eyes flash red again, slightly, and my body trembles at the mere fact that he could snap my wrist out of its sockets if he really wanted to before I hear him say, “I'll be taking you to the hospital. Come.”

Before I can stop him, he lets go of my hurt hand and moves to the good one. His grip is firm but gentle as he begins to pull me away. When I try to speak, he instantly sends me a glare and from the electrifying feeling that buzzes up my body, I know better than saying anything so I stay silent.