Ch. 91..95: Breed Me, Daddy Alpha chapter 91-95

Favorite Sin 91

~Lyra~

Oh my Goddess.

He just said it. Out loud. In front of everyone.

“Listen up. Everyone.”

And when I say everyone, I mean it. Every single soul in that hallway froze. The kind of freeze you only see in movies where time stops and the music cuts out and you just know something dangerous is about to happen. It was like the air itself got scared. Like even the oxygen knew not to mess with Damon when he spoke like that.

Then someone said it.

“Is that not Alpha Damon?”

A girl was staring straight at me now. Her eyes were huge. Her mouth was wide open. Her face looked like she had just seen the Moon Goddess herself descend from the sky and declare me queen.

And then someone else whispered, “Tasha’s dad, right? The strongest Alpha to ever exist?”

Another voice, this time shaky and terrified, added, “I heard he ripped a rogue’s head off with his bare hands.

Didn’t even shift.”

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t blink. My whole body was on fire, but not from shame. From adrenaline. From the high of being owned in the most brutal, public, no–going–back way imaginable. My thighs were trembling. My lips were parted. My heart was beating so fast it sounded like war drums in my ears.

Then Damon said it.

“Silence.”

Just one word. That was all it took.

Every single person in that hallway shut the f**k up.

Phones were lowered. Bags hit the floor. Some people didn’t even dare to breathe too loud. It was like the entire school was holding its breath at once, waiting to see who would die first if they made the mistake of

speaking.

He looked at all of them with eyes that could kill. Real, actual kill. Not the dramatic kind. The real kind. The kind of stare that made your inner wolf roll over and submit whether you wanted to or not.

And then–he turned to me.

And my stomach dropped.

Because I knew what was coming.

“Let this be a warning,” he said, pointing down at the boy on the floor, the one still twitching and bleeding like

roadkill. “He touched what’s mine.”

I swear I almost moaned.

The Alpha’s Possession

That word–mine–hit me like a slap to the soul. I wanted to scream it. I wanted to tattoo it across my chest. I wanted to claw it into my own skin just so I could look at it when I was alone and remember this moment

forever.

He stepped forward, slowly, like a predator stalking its prey.

“Anyone who touches her again will beg for the death I gave him.”

Lyra

Oh my actual f*****g Moon Goddess.

He didn’t just say that.

He didn’t just say that in front of everyone. In front of the entire student body.

“Look at her.”

That’s what he said. Loud. Clear. Like I was a f*****g trophy on display. And not a pretty little one behind

glass. No.

A dripping, ruined, freshly–claimed trophy, legs still shaking, stomach still tight, skin still warm from his palm and his c**k and his voice. I could still feel his knot stretching me.

I could still feel his grip on my throat. I could still hear the filthy sounds echoing off the lockers when he slammed into me like the whole hallway belonged to us.

Everyone stared.

I mean everyone.

Even the teachers. Even the creepy looking janitor.

And then–he said it.

His voice dropped like thunder wrapped in fire.

“If any of you boys dare touch her, flirt with her, or even come close to her-”

gr

And oh God, I already knew it was going to be bad. I knew it in my bones. My wolf was pacing inside me. My

pulse was in my ears.

“-I promise you, I won’t just rip your c**k out.”

Someone behind me gasped. Like actually gasped out loud. I think it was Alex from math class. He dropped his bag. I swear he pissed himself a little. But I couldn’t look. I couldn’t move. I was locked in place by Damon’s voice, by the feral heat in his eyes, by the weight of the claim he had just slammed over the entire hallway like a bloody gavel.

“I’ll rip your chest open. With my hands.”

That’s what he said.

With his mouth. In front of everyone. In front of me.

And I swear on every holy book and every dirty magazine I’ve ever hidden under my bed that my p***y

fluttered.

Not twitched. Not tightened. Fluttered.

The Alpha’s Possession

Because there he was, the most dangerous man in this building, covered in blood and still probably hard from ruining me against a locker, declaring to the world that I was his. Not flirt–with–me–at–your–own–risk his.

No. I–will–rip–your–heart–out–and–feed–it–to–your–mother his.

“She’s mine,” he growled, voice low and cruel and godlike. “Do you hear me? Mine. I don’t share. I don’t offer. I

own.”

And I swear, every girl in that hallway started crossing their legs. Every boy looked down at the floor.

Every teacher stepped back just a little. Because there was no doubting it anymore. I wasn’t just some

random Omega in heat. I was the Luna now. Claimed in full view. Marked by heat and knot and c*m. His c*m.

“I hope each and every one of you understood,” he said.

And that was it. The final warning. The judgment day. The damn apocalypse.

And like good little children facing a god with blood on his hands, they answered.

“Yes, sir.”

Soft. Timid. Scared shitless.

“Yes, Alpha.”

And my insides did a backflip.

Damon nodded once, satisfied like a lion after a kill, and then casually–so casually I wanted to scream–he

looked down at the crumpled, bloodied body on the floor like it was trash beneath his boots and said-

“Good. Now call your cleaners.”

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t think.

I could only stand there with my whole soul shaking and my body still humming like a struck tuning fork. My knees wanted to collapse. My heart wanted to escape my chest. My heat was still burning, still pulling, still dripping out of me in hot little waves every time I clenched my thighs. Which was every two seconds.

And then he looked at me.

He looked at me like he was still hungry.

Like I wasn’t done.

Like this was just halftime.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t speak loud. He didn’t ask for permission or check to see if I could walk.

He leaned in and muttered, all low and filthy and full of wreckage-

“Let’s go, kitten.”

And I swear-

f**k.

Just that one word tore through me like a second orgasm. A mental one. An emotional one. My whole body reacted. I moaned without moaning. My breath shuddered out of me and I had to squeeze my fists just to stay upright, I wanted to drop to my knees right there in front of everyone and beg him to take me again.

274

The Alpha’s Possession

He walked.

I followed.

And the hallway stayed parted, like he was Moses and I was the water and we had just committed a sin so

great even the walls were too scared to breathe.

There you have it, folks.

Yup. That’s how my first day of school went. Not a cute little walk to homeroom. Not a shy girl with her books

pressed to her chest and a fresh pen to take notes in Algebra.

Crazy, right?

Like if someone had told me this morning, “Hey Lyra, don’t bother packing a lunch today because you’ll be too busy getting f****d into a public surface while your mate turns the hallway into a crime scene,” I probably

would’ve laughed. I probably would’ve put on a cuter bra. Or worn heels. Or done a little more lip gloss.

And the truth?

The sick, twisted, delicious truth?

I f*****g loved it.

Every second. Every sound. Every secondhand gasp and flinch and drop of silence. I loved the way his voice

shook the walls. I loved the way his hands held me like I’d fall apart if he didn’t claim me.

Tell me you wouldn’t want to be me.

Go ahead. Say it with your whole chest.

Say you wouldn’t want to be the girl who moaned “Daddy” in front of a row of lockers and made the scariest Alpha alive lose control.

You can’t say it, can you?

You want it.

I see you. Don’t pretend. Don’t lie.

You want to be the one he calls kitten. You want to be the reason he snaps necks and shatters skulls and

spits threats so hot the floor trembles. You want to be the one who walks beside him, ruined and radiant and branded with his scent so deep even the Goddess herself can’t wash it off.

But you’re not.

b***h, you’re single. Hahaha

And I’m not just taken. I’m f*****g claimed. I’m marked. I’m mated. I’m dripping. I’m branded by the kind of dominance you don’t come back from. I’m the one walking beside Alpha Damon while the hallway stays parted like the seas, and every eye watches me like I’m a walking, breathing, moaning warning label.

And the best part?

That was just the beginning.

So if you’re still reading, move on to the next chapter.

Because guess what?

The Alpha’s Possession

Now I’m going to dominate the pack.

Yeah. You heard me right.

I’m walking in like a Luna. Not because they gave me the title but because I earned it.

And who knows? We might f**k again after.

Honestly, knowing him? We definitely will.

Right after the meeting. Maybe during. Maybe on the Alpha Council table while the old men watch in horror.

Haha. Oh, I know what you’re thinking.

Don’t even try to deny it.

You’re horny, b***h.

I can feel it. I can see it. You’ve been squirming since the first time he pinned me to the locker and told me not to move. You’ve been clenching your thighs every time I mention his knot. Your eyes widened when I said his c*m was still leaking out of me. Don’t lie. You’ve probably got your phone in one hand and your other

hand already sliding into your waistband.

It’s okay.

I get it.

So do what you need to do.

Go touch yourself. Go get a f*****g vibrator and f**k that p***y of yours. Rub that needy little clit. Slide your fingers in. Moan out loud.

Pretend it’s your body he’s pinning, your p***y he’s stretching, your heat he’s flooding. Touch yourself while I drip and shake and beg him to knot me again.

You need to c*m.

I want you to c*m.

I want your legs to shake. I want your throat to go dry. I want your whole body to pulse with it. I want you to feel everything I felt when he buried himself so deep inside me I forgot I ever existed without him.Scream into your pillow and beg the universe to send you your own Damon Thornvale. And when you’re done? Come back.

Because this story isn’t finished.

Not even close.

Click on the next chapter and watch me walk into that pack meeting like the Luna I was born to be.

Now hurry up and flip the page.

Your dirty little Luna has more chaos to cause

Favorite Sin 92

~Lyra~

Do you

know what it feels like to walk into a room full of the most powerful, ancient, snarling, superiority–complex–having Alphas In the f*****g country with dried c*m on your inner thighs, a limp in your step, and your heart still echoing the last time he called you kitten? I’ll tell you. It feels like stepping into a

holy place while still reeking of sin.

Like crashing a funeral covered in glitter and orgasms. Like flipping off a room full of priests while wearing nothing but lace. And the worst part? Or maybe the best, depending on how messed up you are inside?!

loved it.

I was high. Not on drugs, not on alcohol–on power. On heat. On s*x. On Damon.

The council room was colder than I expected. Maybe because the windows were shut, or maybe because

they all looked like they’d rather die than have an Omega in their presence unless she was serving tea or getting f****d to make heirs.

And yet there I was, walking in like the floor belonged to me.

Twelve chairs. Twelve men. Twelve beady–eyed, salt–bearded, cigar–breath patriarchs who stared at me like I

was the second coming of the apocalypse.

If they had pearls, they would’ve clutched them. If they had guns, I swear three of them would’ve shot me on

sight.

But I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t even shy. I was still swollen, still open, still tingling with the memory of how

Damon had bent me, owned me, ruined me.

And then came the sound. His boots. That slow, dragging, dominant gait that made the floor seem too fragile

beneath him.

Damon entered like thunder. And yes, I know that’s cliché, but shut up and listen–this man was thunder. Not

metaphorical. Real. He made the lights flicker.

He made their wolves whimper. He made me clench so hard I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning again

like a b***h in heat.

He didn’t speak. Not yet. He just walked to the head of the room like he already owned it, pulled out a chair

for me like we were at some f****d–up royal ball instead of a war council meeting, and said those two perfect

words that made me want to slide under the table and suck him off in front of all of them.

“Sit, kitten.”

Do you know what happens to your spine when the scariest, sexiest, most bloodstained Alpha in existence `tells you to sit in front of twelve men who think women should stay silent unless they’re birthing or baking? Your spine f*****g straightens. Your heart beats so hard it knocks your ribs. Your p***y–God, my p***y–it throbs like a goddamn metronome.

I sat. Slowly. Making sure they all saw the way I moved like I was still recovering from being bred against a hallway locker, I didn’t cross my legs. I didn’t hide my scent. I didn’t even look away when one–grimaced like the smell of my Alpha’s claim was burning his nose hair.

Packs Dynamics

“Alpha Damon, what’s the meaning of this? Who is this young girl you brought to the meeting? What’s going on here?”

That was the first thing out of their crusty mouths. Not good morning. Not hello. Not even a nice to meet you No. The second I stepped into that cold–ass Alpha Council chamber, still walking funny from getting my soul rearranged, all they could do was glare and bark and question like I was some toddler who wandered in looking for her lunchbox.

I should’ve known. Should’ve known the second Damon said we were coming here that I was about to be disrespected, side–eyed, and treated like a joke by a bunch of wrinkled power–drunk pricks who still thought women were accessories. But what I wasn’t ready for–what really made my blood boil–was what came after.

Damon didn’t hesitate. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink.

He just looked them straight in the eye, volce low and firm and final, and said-

“I brought my Luna.”

Yup. Just like that. Like it was a fact. Like it was a weather report. Like we weren’t standing in a room where every man in a fifty–mile radius believed Omegas were only good for three things–mating, milking, and being

mute.

And then–God, I wish I could make this part up–some of them actually laughed.

Laughed.

Like it was a comedy special.

Like I was the punchline.

One of them–the baldest one, with this veiny neck and a voice like dry gravel–shook his head and actually said it. Loud. Disrespectful. Like I wasn’t even standing there.

“You must be a clown, Alpha Damon.”

I blinked.

He went on.

“Are you blind? This girl looks like she’s still playing with sand. She’s a child. This is the Luna you claim? Is this a joke to you?”

And I swear, something in me snapped. Not quietly. Not sweetly. Not like a twig in a forest. No. It snapped like a rib cage being crushed under a feral shift. Like dignity being ripped from your throat and spat on by men who thought they owned the air.

Because how dare they?

How f*****g dare they look at me–me, the same girl who had Damon Thornvale’s c*m dripping out of her not 、even twenty minutes ago–and call me a child? A joke? A Luna–in–training who should still be building

sandcastles?

I could’ve screamed. I wanted to claw his eyeballs out and feed them to his wolf.

But Damon… oh, Damon didn’t laugh. Damon didn’t blink. Damon didn’t make a single sound. He just slowly turned his head, stared at the man like he was already dead, and said-

“Do you want to be the next body on the floor?”

Packs Dynamics

The laughter stopped. Like stopped stopped. Like the air itself went holy f**k we’re not ready for this kind of silence. Like the walls leaned in to hear the next word because even they didn’t want to miss what might

come next.

But I wasn’t finished. Oh no. I was still boiling.

And since these disrespectful, rotting bags of superiority had clearly decided to pretend like I wasn’t in the room, I did the only thing I could do.

I spoke.

“Hi.”

Just that. Sweet. Calm. Dripping in venom and a voice that made Damon smirk immediately.

I stepped forward. Like the floor was mine and they were just lucky I hadn’t pissed on it yet to mark territory.

“Let me introduce myself, since clearly none of you know how to ask politely,” I said, flipping my hair over my shoulder even though my scalp still stung from how hard Damon had gripped it earlier while telling me to take his knot like a good girl.

“My name is Lyra. I’m eighteen. I’m legal, I’m claimed, and I’m f*****g drenched in the scent of the Alpha who brought me here.”

I saw one of them flinch. Like physically flinch. Like my words reached out and b***h–slapped his pride.

But I wasn’t done.

“You want to talk about sand? You think I look like I still play with dolls? Tell that to my p***y. Better yet, tell that to the locker Damon f****d me against this morning while your outdated little laws were busy gathering

dust.”

Silence.

“I’m not a toy. I’m not a child. I’m not a sweet Omega who’ll bow her head and smile through disrespect. I’m

the girl your Alpha bent in half before this meeting and came inside so deep I still feel him in my ribs.”

I saw Damon’s jaw flex. He loved it. He f*****g loved it.

“You think I’m too young to lead? Too soft to rule beside him? b***h, you’re too old to think straight. You’ve

spent so long looking down on Omegas you forgot what it looks like when one walks in dripping with power.”

One of them tried to speak. I raised a hand.

“No. I’m not finished. You don’t get to laugh at me and then talk like nothing happened. If you think I’m not Luna enough, you can fight me for it. Right here. Right now. One of you old pricks steps forward and lays a

hand on me, and I promise you, Damon won’t even need to kill you. I will.”

And I meant it. My voice didn’t shake. My hands didn’t tremble. I wasn’t one of those girls who spoke once 、 and stepped back like oops sorry for existing. No. If I had something to say, I was going to say it, all of it, loud enough to make every man in this room flinch and regret the moment he opened his mouth in the first place.

“Y’all didn’t have a Luna for a really long time. But you have one now” I said, my chin lifted, my eyes burning into theirs.

“And I will rule. I will walk into every single goddamn meeting in this park. I will speak. I will lead. I will wear my Alpha’s bite mark like a f*****g crown and every time one of you opens your mouths to question me, l’il

Packs Dynamics

give you another reason to shut the f**k up.”

I took one more step. Just one. But it was enough to make the one nearest to me lean back in his chair like he suddenly realized I wasn’t going to sit down and play nice.

“So if you don’t like it?” I snapped, my voice sharp, my body shaking from the force of what I was saying–my t**s literally bouncing.

“If you don’t like it, get the f**k out of this pack.”

The room went still. I could feel it–the shift in air, the tension, the old fear crawling up their throats because they knew I wasn’t bluffing.

“And one more thing,” I added, my voice low now, a little dangerous, a little soft in that way that makes people lean in right before you slap the f**k out of them.

“Don’t mess with me.”

Then it happened. Of course it f*****g did. There’s always one. One bastard too old to think straight and too horny to stay silent. He leaned back in his chair with this filthy–ass smirk, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek like he was enjoying the show and forgetting who the f**k he was looking at.

“f**k,” he muttered, loud enough for all the others to hear. “She’s a feisty one, huh?”

I froze. My fingers curled into fists.

“She must be f*****g dangerous in bed.”

Oh no. No. That was not happening. Not today.

“Look at her t**s shaking when she talks,” he went on, laughing like he wasn’t sealing his fate with every

word. “You can rule us on our d***s, Luna.”

And that was the moment. Right there. That exact f*****g moment I knew he was dead.

Not metaphorically. Not eventually. Not oh–he’ll–get–what’s–coming. I mean dead. As in his lungs would

collapse.

His spine would snap. His skull would be crushed. Damon hadn’t even moved yet, but I felt it. I felt the way

the entire temperature in the room dropped. The way the air sucked itself out like the building itself was

afraid of what was coming next.

And me? I didn’t scream. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t say anything.

I just turned my head.

Slowly.

And looked at Damon.

He wasn’t breathing.

His jaw was clenched.

Favorite Sin 93

~Lyra~

The old man or whatever the f**k his name was–didn’t stop with one comment. He didn’t make one nasty remark and shut the hell up like a man with survival Instincts.

No.

He kept talking.

“Look at her,” he sneered, gesturing with one hand like he was pointing out a buffet item. “Look at the way her ***s bounce when she breathes. You sure she’s eighteen? Because f**k me, that body says porn star, not

politician.”

I stiffened. My fingers curled so hard my nails dug into my palms. My stomach flipped. My jaw tightened. I didn’t look at Damon yet. I couldn’t. Because surely, surely he was about to shut this bastard down.

But no.

The man went on.

“She’s got the kind of mouth you grip the back of her head for. I mean damn. All that attitude? That heat? That mouth? You don’t crown bitches like her. You f**k them. You tie them up. You make them scream until

their voice is gone.”

The blood in my ears was rushing so loud I could barely hear the rest, but I didn’t have to. He wasn’t slowing

down.

“Bet she whines real good when you spank her. Bet her ass jiggles like sin. Look at her skin–f*****g glowing. If you’re smart, you’ll stop playing house and let the rest of us have a turn. I don’t mind used holes, not when they’re wet like that.”

I froze. Every muscle in my body locked up. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t blink. Couldn’t think.

He laughed. Laughed.

“I mean, come on, Alpha Damon,” he said, dragging out every word like he thought he was charming. “You really gonna waste that kind of slut on monogamy? You know she’d look better on her knees with a whole room full of c**k in her face. That’s a Luna? She looks like a goddamn brothel baby. Maybe if she shuts up and spreads those legs we’ll believe she’s useful.”

And then he looked at me. Actually looked at me. Grinning. Smirking. Like he expected me to shrink. Like he

expected me to cry.

“She got that good little breed–me face. I’d knot her. Raw. In front of everyone. Make her beg for it. Bet she’d love it. I mean–f**k–you could sell that p***y and build a palace on the profits.”

And then.

Then the part that shattered me.

Because Damon…

Damon laughed.

Council of Feat

He actually f*****g laughed.

A low chuckle, deep in his chest, dark and cruel and casual. He didn’t stop the man. Didn’t growl. Didn’t

even glare. Just turned slightly and muttered-

“You might be right.”

My stomach dropped. My pulse stopped. I felt dizzy. Sick. My lungs wouldn’t fill.

“What?” I whispered, barely able to hear my own voice over the roaring in my ears.

He nodded. Still calm. Still relaxed. Still looking at the man like they were sharing a goddamn drink.

“She does scream when she comes. She scratches. She bites. She begs. Hard.”

I wanted to run. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t understand. Why was he saying this? Why was he

agreeing? Why was my Alpha–the man who literally murdered someone for less than a comment–now

smiling at a fucker who just reduced me to a fuckable toy?

“Wettest little Omega I’ve ever touched,” Damon added, voice low like he was complimenting a car. “Drips like

a faucet. Can’t take more than two fingers without shaking.”

I staggered back a step.

He looked at me then. Just looked. His eyes unreadable. Cold.

“She does have a mouth built for c**k,” he said.

And I broke.

Right there. My throat closed. My eyes blurred. I felt like my entire f*****g body turned to static. I wasn’t

breathing. I wasn’t blinking. I wasn’t f*****g alive.

He was humiliating me.

He was agreeing.

He was offering me up like a trophy to a room full of animals.

And then the old man smiled. Smiled so wide I wanted to vomit.

You see? You get it, Alpha. You finally f*****g get it.”

His voice wasn’t just smug. It was sick. Feral in the worst way. Like a man who’d never been told no. Like a man who had spent decades believing Omegas existed to be mounted, silenced, and bred.

“She’s not a Luna,” he spat, leaning forward like he was whispering secrets between brothers, “She’s a toy. A

wet little fuckdoll who likes it rough. You saw the way she walked in here. She’s already ruined. Why not finish

the job?”

I didn’t move. I didn’t flinch. I stood there and stared at him like I was watching death happen in slow motion. ~ But inside? Inside I was screaming. My wolf was howling. My pulse was vibrating like electricity under my

skin.

He was still going.

“We can all take turns. Hell, we can do it at once. Line up, drop our c***s, and make her prove she’s Luna enough to handle a real Alpha’s knot. All twelve of us, right here on this table. I’ll suck one tit, you take the other. Someone spreads her legs. We see how many she can take before she cries.”

Council Of Feat

I couldn’t breathe. I could feel my heart punching my ribs. My fingers were shaking. Not from fear. From rage. From the kind of fury that makes fire look cold.

“She likes being watched, doesn’t she? Bet she got wetter the second we stared. She wants it. Craves it. We’ll make her moan for the council. Let her thank us while we f**k her full. That pretty mouth can suck one of us while the rest fill her up like a c*m tank.”

And then he laughed. He f*****g laughed. And that was it. That was the moment I looked at Damon.

Because surely, surely, he would stop this.

But Damon wasn’t stopping him.

Damon was nodding.

Calmly.

Slowly.

Like he was agreeing.

And my soul cracked in two.

“You’re right,” Damon said, voice low, like he was considering it. “You’re absolutely right.”

I froze.

No.

No no no.

What was happening?

“You’re right about everything,” he continued, turning his head just slightly toward the man but keeping his body facing mine. “She does scream. She does beg. She likes it when I use my teeth. You want to hear what she sounded like against that locker? You want to know how she looked when I pulled her hair and made her

say please?”

My knees almost buckled. I couldn’t process it. Couldn’t understand. My mouth went dry. My throat closed. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to scream at him to stop–to stop f*****g agreeing with the man who just suggested gang–raping me in the goddamn Alpha Council room.

“Bet she’d let us all take her right now if you asked nice,” the old fucker added, grinning so wide I could see every yellow tooth in his rotting mouth. “Hell, I’ll take the first ride. Spread her on the table, slap that ass a few times. I’ll lick her n*****s, bite down a little, make her cry for real Alpha cock.”

And then–then–he reached out.

He actually reached for me.

Two fingers, extended, like he was about to touch me.

Like he thought he could.

Like he f*****g belonged anywhere near me.

That’s when Damon moved.

Fast.

Council of fear

Before the old man’s fingers could get within inches of my skin, Damon exploded. He didn’t growl. He didn’t shift. He didn’t roar. He ripped.

His claws came out so fast I didn’t even see the blur. All I heard was the wet sound of flesh being torn. All I saw was the man’s eyes going wide, then wider, then full of blood as Damon’s claws sank through his neck and sliced upward, tearing his oesophagus clean out like it was tissue.

Blood hit the ceiling. The table. My face.

The man didn’t even scream.

His mouth opened.

His body spasmed.

And then he collapsed.

Hard.

Wet.

Lifeless.

Damon stood over him, panting once–just once–before dropping the steaming, ragged pipe of throat meat

to the floor like trash.

Silence crashed into the room like a bomb.

And I… I was shaking.

Not from fear.

Not from pain.

From the f*****g power of it.

From the proof.

He had pretended to agree.

He had baited him.

He had dragged him down, word by word, until the man’s own filth became the blade Damon used to gut him.

I looked at Damon.

Covered in blood.

Still calm.

Still dangerous.

And then he turned to the others–those wrinkled cowards who had watched this entire thing with lust in their eyes and piss in their souls–and said:

“She’s not your toy. She’s not your b***h. She’s not just your f*****g Luna.”

He pointed to me now.

“She’s mine.”

His lips curled.

Council Of Fear

“Mine like blood. Mine like soul. Mine like f*****g destiny.”

No one dared look away. Not even me.

“And if any of you–” he began again, his voice dropping lower, darker, more savage with every word, “if any of you dare to disrespect her again… if any of you even think about talking sexually about what’s mine…”

He took a slow step forward, dragging his claws along the edge of the blood–soaked table.

“I will f*****g burst your c***s open.”

The words echoed like gunshots.

“Do you hear me?” he snarled, voice feral now. “I will slice them off at the root and shove them down your throat. I will rip your balls out of your shriveled little sacks and let my wolf eat them. I’ll let him chew the

meat while you watch.”

Someone gasped. Another choked. One man actually slid his chair back like he was trying not to piss

himself.

But Damon wasn’t finished.

“I don’t care how old you are. I don’t care what rank you’ve held. You so much as breathe wrong in her direction again, and I will make you suffer. I will make you scream until your own pack refuses to claim your

corpse.”

He turned slowly, eyes burning as they landed on me.

And when he spoke again, it wasn’t for them.

“She is my Luna. My flame. My filthy little queen. And the next one of you who forgets that-”

He looked back at the blood pooling around the dead man’s body.

“-will end up feeding the floor just like him.”

Yes, folks.

That’s what the f**k he said.

And that? That was the moment the Alpha Council s**t themselves, and I sat down on the dead man’s chair with power humming in my bones.

Say it again.

Louder.

So the entire f*****g pack hears it-

I’m his.

And no one touches what he’s claimed unless they’re ready to die screaming.

And then, like it was a normal Tuesday, like he hadn’t just committed a brutal, public execution with the casual ease of cracking a knuckle, Damon stepped over the body, wiped the blood off my face then his hand with a handkerchief that belonged to the dead guy, tossed it back on the corpse, and said-

“Now.”

His voice was back to calm. Like all that rage had been folded up and stored neatly behind his ribs again.

Coumest Of Fear

“Let’s start what I came here for”

Favorite Sin 94

~Lyra

Damon leaned forward now, resting both hands on the edge of the blood splattered table, and looked them dead in the eye.

“The rogue problem,” he said, as if the past fifteen minutes of chaos hadn’t happened. “You’ve all been ignoring it. Hoping it would fade. Hoping the weaker packs would get slaughtered before the rogues made it to your doorstep.”

He scanned their faces. Not a flinch. Not a blink. Cowards.

He looked around the table, his gaze slicing through every old man like a blade.

“You think they’re just angry exiles with no plan? Wrong. They’re building something. And from the way your border packs are going quiet? I’d say they’re almost ready.”

Some of the men stiffened. I could feel it–panic trying to rise in their throats like bile, but too afraid to come out. No one wanted to admit what we all knew. They’d ignored it. They’d ignored the signs. The missing scouts. The torn patrol gear.

The howls that sounded too human in the woods at night. The stench of blood from abandoned dens. The

burned messages scratched into trees.

But I knew.

And I don’t mean I guessed. I don’t mean I heard some rumors and pieced it together. I mean I knew. Because

I had seen the patterns.

Because when you grow up at the bottom–Omega, girl, marked as pretty but not powerful–you learn how to

listen. You learn how to see what no one else sees because they’re too busy thinking you’re just a set of t**s

in a tight shirt.

So I leaned forward. Still sitting in the dead man’s chair. Still covered in Damon’s scent. Still wet between my

legs and tingling from adrenaline. I leaned forward and spoke.

“Do any of you know how many disappearances were reported last month in the southern crescent?”

They turned to look at me like I had grown another head. Like I wasn’t supposed to speak. Like I wasn’t

supposed to know anything. But I didn’t wait for permission. I wasn’t that kind of Luna.

“Eleven,” I said. “Three border patrols. Two messengers. One Beta. And five girls. All Omegas. None found.”

Damon’s head turned toward me slowly. He was listening. Really listening now.

I didn’t stop.

か

“Most of those reports never made it here. They were buried. Blamed on rogue animals. Dismissed as

elopements. But they weren’t. They were taken. Lured. By someone who knew the patrol schedules. By someone who knew where to find the girls who wouldn’t be missed right away.”

One of the elders opened his mouth to he swallowed his tongue.

errupt me, but Damon raised a hand and he shut up so fast I swear

Power Of The Lums.

I kept going. My voice was steady. Loud. Clear, Not just loud for a girl. Not just brave for an Omère Because I had their attention now. And f**k, it felt good.

“The rogues are building a pack,” I said, standing now. “Not a gang. Not a rebellion. A pack. They’re taking Omegas to breed with.

“They’re converting weak Alphas with promises of freedom and power. They’re attacking the small ones first -packs on the edge of the map.

I saw Damon’s eyes darken. Not with rage. With something else. Something hotter. Sharper Respect Surprise.

“They’re not stupid,” I said. “They’re strategic. They’re watching. They’re infiltrating the mail routes. They’re targeting messengers. If we don’t change course now, they’ll have numbers strong enough to come after us directly. And when they do, they won’t just take the Omegas. They’ll take everything.”

And the entire room was staring at me.

Even Damon.

No–especially Damon.

He was staring like he didn’t know whether to f**k me or crown me.

“Where did you learn that from, kitten?”

His voice was rough. Deep. Just slightly frayed at the edges like his restraint was slipping.

I looked up at him slowly, still seated in that blood–soaked council chair like it was my birthright, and his eyes

were on me–not the men, not the mess, not the body on the floor–me, like I’d just ripped my shirt open and

moaned his name in front of everyone.

“f**k,” he muttered, low and thick like it punched straight through his chest. “That turned me on so f*****g

good.

“I love watching you dominate. I love it when you take control like that. When you talk in a room full of wolves

and make them sit like obedient little dogs. s**t, kitten, keep going. Don’t stop now.”

I smirked.

And not the shy kind of smirk. Not the girlish, oops–l–didn’t–mean–to–cause–a–stir kind of smirk.

No. I smirked like a b***h who knew exactly what the f**k she was doing.

Like I’d just bent the whole room to my voice and my mouth and my mind, and now the scariest Alpha alive was getting turned on watching me rip the floor out from under his enemies with nothing but facts and fury.

I leaned back in the chair. Legs crossed. Arms resting lightly on the armrests like a queen on her throne,

blood still staining the corner of the wood beneath me.

“I read,” I said casually, loud enough for all of them to hear. “I listen. I ask questions.

Damon groaned softly under his breath, and I felt it. Felt the way it wasn’t just admiration anymore–it was hunger. A different kind of tension building under his skin. Lust mixed with reverence. Filthy awe. Respect wrapped in a snarl.

“You’re gonna f*****g kill me one day,” he muttered, and I laughed–soft, dangerous, unapologetic.

< Power Of The Luna

“Only if you piss me off.”

I turned my eyes back to the council.

“The rogues aren’t just growing. They’re preparing. They’re smart. They’re fast. And they’re angry. They know we’ve underestimated them. They know you’re old and slow and stuck in tradition. That’s why they’re taking Omegas–they know your weak spot. They know what makes you panic.”

One man coughed. Another cleared his throat. One finally looked ashamed.

“They’re going after your legacies,” I said. “Your daughters. Your future breeders. They’re turning your bloodline into weapons. And if we don’t stop them now, they’ll make a pack bigger and darker than anything we’ve seen in our history. And this council?” I scoffed. “This council won’t survive it.”

I looked up at Damon again, and this time I saw it–pure f*****g pride shining in his eyes like moonlight on a

blade.

“So yeah,” I said, licking my bottom lip slowly. “I know a few things.”

He leaned in behind me, low, close, one hand resting on the back of my chair like he wanted to cage me in

front of them and mark me all over again.

“Say one more thing, kitten,” he whispered again, this time slower, hotter, with just enough threat laced in to

make my p***y flutter.

.“Just one more word and I swear I’ll lose it. Say something smart. Say something slick. f**k–say anything at all and I’ll f**k you in this chair until the floor floods with your heat and these cowards finally learn what it

means to kneel to a Luna.”

I tilted my head back just slightly, enough to see his shadow hovering behind me, his jaw sharp, his eyes locked on the curve of my smirk like it was the only goddamn thing in the room.

So I did what I do best.

I talked.

“Well, since you’re begging…” I purred, dragging my nails across the armrest, slow and teasing, like I didn’t give a single f**k that there was a dead man at my feet and twelve terrified Alphas holding their breath across from me. “Here’s what you all need to hear from your Luna”

I stood again.

“You old folks are scared of rogues,” I said, voice sharp now. “But do you know what scares me more?

Stupidity.”

They blinked.

I kept going.

“Rogues are predators. But you-” I pointed around the table- “you’re the reason they have a chance. You made your packs weak.

“You raised sons who inherit power without earning it. You trained warriors to follow orders instead of think. You ignored the Omegas, silenced the seers, mocked the witches, and now you’re surprised the balance is

off.”

One of the men shifted in his chair like my words were physically burning him.

Power Of The Luna

Good.

“Rogues didn’t create this chaos. You did. By pretending that strength only comes in one form. You made the cracks they’re crawling through. And while you were too busy jerking off to war stories, they built a f*****g

army.”

Damon’s breathing behind me was getting heavier. Darker. His presence felt like a thundercloud about to snap open and ruin the earth.

“You want to win this war?” I snapped, slamming my hand on the table so hard the wood echoed. “Then stop playing politics and start listening to the ones you thought were too soft to matter.”

I looked at Damon. Straight in the eyes. My body still pulsing. My voice still trembling with everything I’d said.

“Because I’d rather bleed beside an Alpha who protects me like a storm than sit silently in the shadow of men who don’t even deserve the title.”

And that?

That was the moment he lost it.

He growled. Growled–deep and loud and animal. The sound of a man who had held himself back for too

long.

“f**k,” he hissed, grabbing my waist from behind and pulling me flush against him, his grip punishing. “I told you what would happen.”

His breath hit my neck, hot and fast, and I swear I moaned–just a little, just enough to make every single one of those pathetic, silent Alphas look away in shame.

“You open

half.”

that filthy mouth one more time and I swear, kitten, I’m going to f**k you so hard this table splits in

I didn’t look away. I didn’t shrink.

I just whispered back, “Then what the f**k are you waiting for?”

That’s what I said. Out loud. With my full chest. With his blood still drying on my skin and every nerve in my body still humming from the way he growled in my ear.

I knew what I was doing. I f*****g knew. My voice wasn’t trembling. My legs were, maybe a little. But not my voice. That came out hard and wet and reckless, the way only a c**k–dumb, freshly–ruined, adrenaline–drunk Omega can sound when she’s toeing the line between power and punishment.

Damon didn’t laugh. He didn’t smirk. He didn’t tease me back with a dirty little wink like he sometimes did when I got mouthy.

He snapped.

He turned around so fast his coat flared behind him like a whip of smoke and ash, and then he said it. Loud.

Low. Final.

“Everyone out. Now!”

Favorite Sin 95~Lyra-

Okay so listen, I know this is going to sound crazy–and I swear I’m not even exaggerating–but the moment

that last elder walked out and the door slammed shut? I felt it.

Like not in a subtle, oh–what–a–tense–moment kind of way. No. I mean I felt it in my chest. In my throat. In my freaking p***y.

I knew what was about to happen and my legs were already trembling because Darmon was standing behind me, breathing like he had murder in his lungs and s*x in his veins, and I just kriew.

I f*****g knew he was about to lose it.

He didn’t even speak at first. He didn’t say a single word. He just stood there with his big Alpha body

radiating heat like a goddamn volcano while I sat there–still in that stupid bloody chair, still pulsing between my legs, still trying to pretend I wasn’t so horny I could cry.

And then?

Oh my God.

He slammed his hand down on the table. Not gently. Not like a little warning tap. I mean he slammed it like the table owed him money and the sound cracked through the room so hard it echoed off the walls.

I swear I jumped, and I’m not even the jumpy type, but that man has the kind of rage you can feel. Like thunder. Like punishment.

And I don’t know what’s wrong with me, honestly. I should’ve been scared, right? I should’ve been thinking about the body still bleeding on the floor or the fact that I just basically humiliated twelve ancient Alphas in

front of their own d***s.

And then it happened. Just like I knew it would. He moved. Fast. Like Alpha fast. Like one second I was sitting there all smug and satisfied and the next second I was on the table, under him, breathless.

“Don’t speak,” he growled, and I swear to the Moon, my knees almost gave out. “Don’t open that filthy little mouth unless you want me to f**k you in front of every wolf in this goddamn house.”

But I couldn’t help it. I moaned. Loud. Desperate. A whole whimper right against his chest.

And it just spilled out of me, like every thought I’d been holding in for the past hour decided to come out all at once. I looked up at him–his jaw clenched, his eyes black, his c**k already hard and pressing against my thigh–and I said it.

“I wanted you to do this the whole time,” I whispered, and yeah, I know how that sounds, but it was the truth.

“When I was sitting in that chair, Damon, I wanted you to f**k me right there while they watched. I wanted to lean forward and spread my legs and make you proud of how wet was just from speaking.”

He groaned.

And not just any groan. No, this one was like a full–body groan, like it started in his spine and ended in his c**k, and then he grabbed my waist and yanked me closer like he was about to devour me.

Table For Two

“You like talking s**t,

huh?” he muttered, breath hot against my throat. “You like playing with fire ki like making your Alpha hard while you sit there dripping wet in front of a f*****g council?

And I was just nodding like an i***t. Like, yes, Daddy, I do. I love it, I love the power. I love the danger. I love that I made you this hard just by using my voice.

And then I opened my mouth again because clearly I have no self–control and I said, “You don’t understand how wet I am right now. I’m soaked. Like ruined–the–chair kind of soaked. I could’ve slid down that seat if i wasn’t gripping the sides so tight trying not to moan in front of those dusty old Alphas.”

That was it.

That was the f*****g moment he snapped.

He didn’t just touch me. He grabbed me. One hand under my thigh, the other pushing my skirt up so rough I

swear it ripped.

And I didn’t care. Not even a little. I wanted it ripped. I wanted everything off. I wanted to be bare and ruined and f****d on that table until I forgot how to speak.

But nope.

I didn’t shut up.

Because the moment he pulled my panties aside and ran two fingers up my slit, I moaned–loud, filthy, desperate–and then I said, “You feel that? That’s for you, Damon. All of it. Every drop. Every f*****g tremble. I’ve been dripping for you since the second I smelled your anger. I’ve been waiting for you to bend me over and teach those old bastards what happens when a Luna uses her voice.”

He groaned again, but this time it sounded like he was about to break something.

“Say it,” he whispered, voice shaking like he was holding back the whole goddamn apocalypse. “Say who you belong to.”

And I said it.

Loud.

Clear.

With my whole goddamn chest.

“I belong to you. To the Alpha. To the only man who’s ever made me feel like my body. I’m yours, Damon. Your Omega. Your slut. Your f*****g Luna.”

my

words were worth more than

He didn’t wait.

He didn’t ask.

He just slammed into me.

And when I tell you I screamed? Babe. I screamed like the world was ending and I wanted it to. I screamed like his c**k had just knocked the breath out of my soul. I screamed so loud I’m pretty sure the walls blushed.

And then I talked. Because of course I did.

I moaned and whimpered and said the nastiest things that came to my mind.

“Fuckfuckfuck–Damon–your c**k is so thick I can’t–I can’t even think straight–I feel you everywhere–l

< Table For Two

swear I’m gonna c*m–I’m gonna c*m just from you slamming into me like that–oh my God yes–keep going -don’t stop–don’t ever stop–I wanna feel this table crack under us–I want them to hear me—I want every pack in the territory to know what happens when you give a girl a voice and then bend her over and claim her.

He was growling now. Panting. Gripping my hips like he wanted to own every inch of my body and brand it

with his c**k.

“c*m,” he ordered. “Do it now.”

And I did.

Loud. Shaking. Soaking. Screaming his name like a goddamn hymn.

“DAMON–I’M CUMMING–I’M CUMMING SO HARD–f**k–I CAN’T–OH MY GOD–f**k ME–RUIN ME–f*****g

RUIN ME!”

Then I was gone. Like gone. Like shaking, squirming, grabbing fistfuls of the table like I was about to fall through the center of the earth and take every moan with me.

My p***y was clenching so tight around his c**k I could barely breathe, and my vision was going white around the edges like I was about to black out from how f*****g good it felt.

And Damon?

Oh my f*****g God.

He was watching me like I was the main event at a blood ritual. Like I was sacred and slutty and made just to fall apart on his c**k.

And then he spoke.

Not soft.

Not gentle.

Filthy.

Commanding.

Like every f*****g word came from deep in his chest and straight into my soul.

“Yeah, c*m for me, you needy little kitten,” he growled, his voice so low and rough it made my stomach flip.”

Soak my c**k.

“Oh my God, Daddy–f**k–keep talking–don’t stop–don’t f*****g stop-”

He didn’t.

“Such a messy f*****g mouth,” he whispered, bending over me, lips at my ear, hand gripping the back of my neck like he owned it. “Always running. Always mouthing off. But look at you now–crying, shaking, cumming all over my c**k like a filthy little heat–drunk whore.”

I whimpered.

Loud.

Embarrassed.

Table For Two

Turned the f**k on.

“I love it,” he hissed, dragging his c**k out slow, then slamming it back in so hard I screamed. 1****** love how loud you are. How wet you get when I talk to you like this. You want more, kitten? Want me to f**k you until that smart little brain of yours melts right down your legs?”

I nodded like a goddamn i***t, my whole body trembling, voice cracking as I tried to keep up.

“Y–Yes, Daddy–I want it–I want more—I wanna be your filthy little Omega.

“I wanna be used. I want you to use my p***y. Use my mouth. Use my whole f*****g body. Make me yours.

Break me if you want. Just keep talking. Please–please keep talking while you f**k me-”

And holy s**t.

That did it.

Damon grabbed my throat, not tight enough to choke me, just firm enough to claim it. His c**k slammed into me again, harder, deeper, and he moaned–like moaned, from his chest, all Alpha and heat and growl.

“Oh kitten,” he snarled, grinding into me so hard I swear I saw stars. “You want me to use that mouth? You want me to fill your p***y and then f**k the words out of your throat one by one? You want me to bend you over, tongue–f**k your cunt until you’re dripping down my chin, then flip you around and make you say thank you while I c*m down your throat?”

“YES–oh my God–yes-”

“Say it louder,” he ordered.

“I WANT YOUR c*m, DAMON!” I moaned, nearly sobbing from the intensity. “I WANT YOU TO FILL ME UP–I WANNA DRIP ALL OVER THIS f*****g TABLE–MARK ME–f*****g BREED ME!”

And he did.

With one final, brutal thrust, he growled like a beast claiming a mate and slammed his c**k so deep inside me I felt it in my throat, and then I felt it-

His c*m shot into me like lava. I swear I felt it in my f*****g soul.

“Look at you,” he grunted, slamming into me again just to push it deeper. “Soaked. Shaking. Still talking.”

He chuckled. Low. Dangerous. And he leaned down, tongue dragging along my jaw while my whole body stayed bent over like I was made to take this.

Then he whispered, “Daddy’s Naughty Little Girl”

And I swear on my life, he actually bit my shoulder.

Like teeth. Real bite. Possession. Mark.

And I f*****g screamed.

But then-

Right as his c**k twitched again and I started to open my mouth to say something else filthy, his phone rang.

Like out loud.

1

Like on speaker.

Table For Two

And we both froze.

For half a second, neither of us moved.

He reached into his coat pocket with one hand, the other still gripping my waist like he wasn’t even human anymore, and when he answered, his voice came out low, rough, still dripping with s*x.

“What?”

There was silence.

Then a voice.

Shaky. Male. Terrified.

“Damon. It’s your neighbor.”

More silence.

More dripping c*m.

And then.

“It’s Camilla. She’s outside with a f*****g gun pointed to her head” the voice said.

“What!”