Chapter 3: The Promise

I nearly stumble as I dash out of the dining hall, my legs struggling to keep up with my frantic pace. My breath comes in uneven bursts as I head straight for the stairwell—not toward the kitchen, nor my quarters to change. Camilla’s order was never truly about sending me to work. That was just a façade, a thinly veiled power play designed to remind everyone that she could do as she pleased. Her real goal? To exclude me. If she, the Luna of the pack, could not attend such an important event, then neither could I. Not even Damien’s favorite. I barely register my ascent, my feet carrying me automatically to the fourth floor—Damien’s domain. Only a select few are allowed up here, and I am one of them. But only when Camilla isn’t watching. Panting softly, I press myself against the heavy door to his study, my legs still trembling from anxiety and exertion. I am used to running—running from others, running from everything—but it never gets easier. With a shaking hand, I grasp the doorknob and turn it clockwise three times. A quiet click echoes in the stillness as the lock disengages. The moment I step inside, I am enveloped in his scent—clean, fresh, minty. Damien’s scent brings me the deepest sense of comfort, wrapping around me like an invisible shield. When fear claws at my chest, when my thoughts spiral into panic, my body instinctively craves it. Damien once told me that this is exactly what mates feel. I believe him. I decide to stay in his office until the celebration ends. Usually, when Camilla requests to speak with her husband, she brings him to her own office—perhaps because, even now, she does not fully trust him. And I have to admit, I almost understand why. Camilla became Damien’s wife only a few years ago, after her father, Alpha Theon of the Cold Wind Pack, struck a deal with Damien. Their marriage was a union of power, a pact that merged their packs under one rule. The arrangement forced Camilla to leave her home, her birthright, and take up the role of Luna in unfamiliar territory. Naturally, it was not a smooth transition. While the rest of the Cold Wind Pack eventually bent to their new Alpha, Camilla remained defiant. She was too ambitious, too proud to simply hand over control. She is an alpha by blood, a wolf bred for dominance. Yet Damien forces her to submit, his presence an unyielding force she cannot overpower. And sometimes, I wonder if that is why she despises me. Not because Damien desires me. But because I submit to him willingly. Because I trust him so completely that I never question his word. And it’s the truth. Damien is the only werewolf who has ever loved me. The only one who has never tried to hurt me, never sought to break me. He keeps me safe, and I don’t care if that makes someone hate me. I am so lost in my thoughts that I fail to notice I am no longer alone. The same two sets of footsteps that trailed me out of the dining hall are approaching the door. The sound sends a chill racing down my spine, and suddenly, I can hear nothing but the frantic pounding of my own heartbeat. Why are they coming here? The stairwell leading to Camilla’s quarters is on the opposite side of the mansion, which means they are heading straight for Damien’s study. I swallow hard, panic tightening in my chest, and nearly dive into the small closet beside the door. It isn’t just a closet—it’s a hidden passageway, one Damien had built specifically for me. Narrow corridors snake through the walls of the pack house, allowing me to slip unnoticed into any of his rooms. He made these arrangements for me alone, and I’ve always found comfort in that. The ability to move unseen in this house, where eyes are always watching, makes me feel safer. Pressing myself into the darkness, I silently thank the Moon Goddess that I used the scent suppressor Damien gave me. Without it, my presence would be impossible to hide. The suppressant is nothing more than a concentrated mix of Damien’s own pheromones, masking my scent by making me smell like him. It’s expensive to produce, so I use it sparingly—but tonight, I had been careful. I didn’t want to be approached like the other female omegas, and now, more than ever, I pray that it’s still working. Hopefully, Camilla won’t notice that I’m here. The door creaks open, and Damien’s voice cuts through the air, tinged with surprise. "I thought we’d be having this conversation in your office, Camilla." Their footsteps move across the room, stopping near Damien’s desk. The soft click of the liquor cabinet follows, the faint clink of glass breaking the silence. But only one glass is set down. A silent warning. He’s telling her to make this quick. "Why didn’t you tell me about the deal?" Camilla’s voice cracks with anger, but beneath the sharp edge, there’s a barely perceptible tremor of frustration as she struggles to regain control. "It’s one thing to keep me away from your sordid parties, but to exclude me from something so politically important? You’ve crossed the line, Damien." "Those are some strong words, Camilla. How long have you been waiting to use ’sordid’ in a conversation?" Damien chuckles, but as the silence drags on, I hear him sigh before setting the glass back on the desk. "The deal is done, and I don’t intend to discuss it further. It’s my pack’s business, and I’m the one making the decisions here." "Your—? What did you agree on?" Camilla presses, and the irritation in her voice tightens again. Another sigh escapes Damien, heavier this time. "The alliance. Our lands have become too uncertain lately, and I want to ensure we’re prepared for whatever comes next. I don’t like what’s happening in the Lycan Kingdom, and I sure as hell don’t trust the king." I gasp, my breath catching in my throat. I quickly cover my mouth with both hands, praying I wasn’t heard. Damien rarely discusses politics with me unless I ask. I’ve always been ignorant of the finer details, but hearing him speak so openly about the Lycan King makes my stomach churn. It’s a dangerous confession—one that unsettles me deeply. I’m certain Camilla isn’t happy to hear it either. "What did you promise Alpha Arcanis?" Camilla demands, her voice low and accusing. My heart plummets. "He doesn’t like to share his power, nor does he enjoy challenging those stronger than him. He must have asked for something in return—what was it?" The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, as my anxiety climbs higher with each passing second. Why is Damien hesitating? What could it be? Something significant, something tied to our pack? Perhaps something that once belonged to Camilla’s family? My pulse pounds in my ears, but finally, Damien’s voice breaks the heavy quiet. "Kaya. He only asked for Kaya. And I will give her to him."