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CHAPTER 2

DAMON'S POV

My pulse races as my gaze caught the spider tattoo on his hand. This was it, that very tattoo, with the exact intricate inking pattern from that night ten years ago. But how could I tell?

It wasn't like I saw his face or had any other evidence but something about that tattoo didn't sit right. The spider, it was exactly the same as that on the wrists of my parents murderer. The resemblance was just uncanny.

My gaze stayed glued to his wrist, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to pull together every detail that might link him to the night of the attack. But the tattoo on his wrist was all I could remember. My throat tightened. Could it really be him? Could this Alpha King, standing just meters away, be the one who murdered my parents?

Alpha Alejandro, according to the stories I've heard, was ruthless and had a long imagery of several battles conquered against many pack. With such power and influence, his pack had increased in numbers ever since making him the Alpha king. But however, non of those stories were linked to my pack.

Anger surged through me, hot and bitter, but it was laced with something worse—helplessness. My wolf stirred beneath the surface, growling, restless. I could feel its need for vengeance in every part of me, my blood humming with a violent energy that left me dizzy. But what could I do? The Alpha was right there, so close, and I was powerless.

My fists clenched until my nails bit into my palms. The memories hit hard—blood, screams, the sight of my parents on the ground, lifeless. I should be doing something. I should be tearing him apart. But I couldn't move. And worse, I couldn't stop staring.

He was huge, but it wasn't that, precisely. It was the way he stood— like nothing in the world had the power to make him care. It was as if his presence were some sort of command in and of itself. The set of his jaw, the cut of his cheekbones, the intensity of his eyes— all of that commanded my attention, and I couldn't seem to look away no matter how much I tried.

Damn it, I was supposed to hate him.

His eyes flicked to me— sharp, sudden— and I froze. A smirk tugged at his lips, and I could feel the heat crawl up the back of my neck. The air felt thick between us, as though I was wading through it just to stay upright. He started moving toward me, slow, deliberate, each step making the beat pound harder inside my chest.

My breath caught as he drew closer, too close. I could make out the lines on his face now, the way his skin seemed chiseled from stone, yet there was something warm to him I hadn't expected. His eyes locked onto mine and I couldn't look away. Didn't want to. My wolf growled, but not in anger. It was need.

He stopped right in front of me, towering over me in a way that should've made me feel small, but all it did was make the air buzz between us. I hated this. I hated how my body responded to him, how my wolf was practically leaning into his presence when I should've been backing away.

His hand rose, the fingers grazing my jaw, and I sharply inhaled a breath. It was a light touch, but it seared like fire. My heart quickened as he angled my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, deep, filled with something I couldn't understand but felt anyway.

"What's your name?" His voice was low, dark, like a whisper made just for me. I felt my body throb with a wave even I couldn't decipher.

"Damon," I managed to get out, my voice barely a whisper. My throat was tight, and I hated how much I wanted more of his touch, more of him.

"Of which pack?" His thumb lightly stroked the line of my jaw, and I could hardly think straight.

"Red Claw," I lied. It was what had first popped into my head, and I couldn't afford for him to know the truth. Not yet.

A small, dangerous smile toyed with the corner of his lips as he leaned in, his face so close I could feel his warm breath on my skin. My heart thundered in my chest, my body trembling beneath his gaze.

"Well, Damon," he breathed, his voice smooth, intimate, like a secret just for me, "If you're going to survive here, you'll need to learn to keep your head down."

His words were both a threat and something more. I could feel it in the way he lingered, in the heat that radiated off him. Then, just as quickly as he'd come, he pulled back, leaving me standing there, breathless and confused.

I hated him. That was what I needed to feel toward him. But as he started to turn and walk away, I couldn't shake off the burn on my skin from where his fingers had pressed, nor the way my wolf didn't want him too far away.

I stood there, frozen, as the Alpha disappeared into the crowd that parted for him, like he was untouchable. My heart was pounding against my chest and the blood rushed loudly in my head. What the hell had just happened?

As if his fingers burned through my skin, but not at all in that graphic way I visualized when I pictured my revenge. No, it was deeper. The brush of his thumb against my chin seemed to linger, setting some chain reaction off in my chest I couldn't quite explain. My wolf stirred inside me, in no feral rage, but in something altogether foreign. It was unsettling. Unwelcome.

What the hell was wrong with me?

I blinked, finally dragging my gaze from him though it took more effort than it should have. His presence was like a shadow that wrapped itself around me, heavy and unshakeable. I heard my breath hitch as I attempted to still the tempest in my head. Anger. Fear. Desire? I shoved that last one off, fast. No. It was hate. It had to be.

My parents. That tattoo. It was him. It had to be.

But I did nothing other than stand there and watch him go, like some kind of coward. My wolf growled inside me, torn between fury and confusion. Why hadn't I fought? Why hadn't I torn him apart like I had promised myself I would? The memory of my parents screaming in my head, the vision of their bodies flashing before my eyes. I wanted to vomit, punch something, anything just to stop the image from replaying itself.

I looked down at my hands, fingers curled into fists so tight my nails bit into my palms. I could barely feel it, too caught up in the mess of emotions swarming in my veins. I should have done something. I needed to do something.

"Damon!" Alex's voice broke through the haze and I jerked my head toward him, startled.

"Huh?" I blinked, trying to focus.

"Why were you so set on the Alpha?" He was grinning like it was some big joke, but in his eyes was a trace of worry. "You acted like you'd seen a ghost."

"No reason." The lie tasted foul, but it was the only thing that came to mind. I looked away, hoping he wouldn't push it further.

Alex stared back at me for a moment, then shrugged. "If you say so. Come on, let's go."

I followed in silence, my mind still reeling. It was finally over and I hadn't heard a word. The oaths, the rituals— a complete, maddening blur. Anchored to one thing, my thoughts were. One man.

The Alpha, his wrist, that god— damned spider tattoo.

I bit my jaw, my fists clenching once more. My parents' murderer was right here. He'd been this close, his breath on my skin, his fingers against my chin. And I'd done nothing.

I felt the anger rise in my stomach, hotter this time. Smothering. That man had ripped my world to shreds, took everything away from me. And here I was, unable to move past this, feeling. whatever this was. My wolf whimpered in the back of my mind, confused. I wanted to lash out, to let the rage take over.

The shock in my veins was impulsive as I felt myself slipping into thoughts. I had let Alpha Alejandro walk away back then, ten years ago.

But not this time around.