(The Hybrid) Damon POV
The scent of blood. Of fear. Of disbelief.
They felt it the moment I stepped into their territory—the moment I tore through the veil of that cursed cabin and stepped into the world I was meant to conquer.
I carried her in my arms. My mate. Soft. Warm. Unconscious. So delicate in contrast to the power thrumming in my veins, screaming to be unleashed. The woman who tethered the chaos, even as she trembled before it. She did not yet understand what I was. What we were. What I had become.
The pack house came into view.
They stood outside, faces twisted with horror, some clutching their chests, others baring their teeth in grief or rage.
"Alpha?" someone gasped, but it wasn't a greeting. It was a prayer.
And I am no god.
"What have you done?" barked one of them—a Beta, if I had to guess. His energy vibrated just beneath mine like a pathetic candlelight flickering against a tempest. "Where's Kane? What the hell are you?"
