Chapitre 9: Role Reversal...
Damian's silver eyes softened ever so slightly, showing a hint of worry as he glanced at her. "Would you like to sleep on the bed instead?"
Eve didn't miss a beat, giving an instant response. "No."
He blinked, clearly caught off guard by her response.
"I thought you made it clear that you didn't want me on your bed," she added, raising a brow. "What changed your mind?"
Damian frowned, folding his arms defensively. "And this is me trying to act like a gentleman."
Eve couldn't suppress the scoff that escaped her lips. "There's nothing gentlemanly about someone who threw me in a dungeon for a crime I didn't commit."
The words struck deeper than she expected. Damian clenched his jaw, his gaze hardening.
Storm rumbled in his mind, nudging him. "Don't let her words get to you. She's testing you."
"I tried," Damian growled under his breath, turning sharply and walking away from her.
But he hadn't taken more than a few steps before Storm surged forward in an attempt to take control. Damian froze as his claws extended slightly before retracting.
"Storm, not now," Damian hissed internally.
Storm's voice was firm. "You'll leave her on the ground like that? Don't you know how to treat a lady? Our mate?"
"She doesn't even want my help," Damian countered.
Storm's tone turned sharp. "You're a fool if you let your pride win. Carry her."
Damian's scowl deepened, but he turned back toward Eve.
"Fine," he muttered.
Eve, sensing movement, opened her eyes just as Damian knelt beside her. Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you—?"
Before she could finish, Damian leaned down and scooped her up in his arms. The sudden motion left her too stunned to protest immediately.
"Put me down!" she finally exclaimed, wriggling in his grip.
Damian's hold didn't waver. "Stop moving, Evelina, unless you want me to drop you."
He sounded calm but it was obvious he was irritated at the turn of events.
"Let me go," Eve insisted, glaring up at him. "So much for being a perfect gentleman. No one asked you."
Damian's lips twitched as if suppressing a smile. "I wasn't aware you held me to such high standards. But if you really want me to let go…" He loosened his grip slightly, causing her to gasp and instinctively wrap her arms around his neck.
"Don't you dare," she hissed, her voice shaking slightly.
"Women," he tsked, "never straightforward with their feelings." All Eve could do was knit her brows but never protested knowing he could drop her at any minute.
Satisfied, Damian carried her effortlessly to the bed. He smirked as he lowered her onto the plush mattress. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Eve scowled up at him, her cheeks flushed. "I'd love to wipe that smirk off your face."
"By all means," Damian replied smoothly. "But I'll only accept it if you use your lips."
Eve's face turned crimson, and she threw a pillow at him. "You're impossible!"
Damian chuckled, catching the pillow effortlessly. "You're welcome, by the way."
"Phenomenal douchebag," she muttered, turning her back to him.
Damian tilted his head. "What does that even mean?"
Eve smirked but didn't respond and instead pulled the duvet over her shoulders as she faced the wall.
The room fell silent as Damian settled onto the opposite side of the bed. For Eve, exhaustion finally began to set in, and within moments, her breathing steadied as she drifted into a restless sleep.
On the other hand, Damian found himself wide awake.
He looked at her as she slept, with the soft light of the moon coming through the curtains. He'd had quite a day and wanted nothing more than to sleep, but right now, sleep eluded him.
He forced his eyes close and turned to face the other side. Then he turned again… and again.
Speaking of role reversal, Eve was now fast asleep while he was the restless one.
"Grrrr…." he groaned as he turned his attention back to her. Right now, she looked peaceful, different from the fiery soul that had kept him on his toes all evening.
The gown she wore had shifted slightly, revealing a glimpse of her cleavage leading down to the enticing swell of her breasts.
Her skin was smooth, and her chest rose and fell in a steady, mesmerizing rhythm, with her hair spread in silky waves on the pillow.
His wolf growled at the sight, the beast pushing closer to the surface. "Mine. Mate."
The desire to reach out and touch her was strong, and the need to make her his grew more intense by the second.
Storm rumbled in agreement. "She's beautiful."
Damian groaned inwardly. "Storm shut up."
His wolf wasn't discouraged. "You're thinking it too. The mate bond pulls stronger when she's this close. Admit it."
Damian clenched his fists. His pulse quickened as he caught the faintest trace of her scent—lavender mixed with something uniquely her.
And then she muttered something in her sleep.
His ears perked as he leaned in slightly.
"...Too hot…" Eve mumbled, her hands fumbling with the bodice of her gown.
Damian froze as she loosened the ribbon, the fabric slipping down.
His breath caught, and his wolf rumbled approvingly. He swallowed, watching her finger clumsily undo her clothes.
She was stunning.
He could see the outline of her curves and the shape of her breasts, with the peaks just barely hidden by the sheer fabric.
He wanted her… badly.
And then, as if in slow motion, her gown slipped further down her shoulders and breast, covering just a part of skin close to the nipples.
Damian swallowed.
He couldn't tear his eyes away.
Storm's tone grew urgent. "Go to her. It's time, Damian."
"Time for what?"
"Time to claim her," Storm growled.
Damian's jaw clenched, and he looked at her sleeping figure before looking away.
Damian growled in his mind. "Storm, control yourself."
"She's not helping," Storm growled back, "I think our mate wants us… to do something."
Just then a subtle shift in the air caught his attention—a faint, sweet scent that made his wolf stir restlessly.
"Pheromones," Storm whispered in awe.
Damian's eyes widened. "What the hell is going on?"
The mate bond intensified, causing his body to tense as desire clashed with his rationality.
Eve shifted again, her lips parting slightly as she let out a soft sigh, one that came out almost as a moan.
"Fuck, Storm," Damian muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "I'm… hard… as a rock. Fuck."
Cadeaux
-- Cadeau
reçu État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone