HIS CLAIM

"What did you hear?" he demanded, his voice a low growl.

Aria didn't answer. She couldn't. She was frozen, paralyzed by fear.

He reached out, grabbing her arm. His grip was like steel.

"Tell me!" he roared, his face inches from hers.

Aria closed her eyes, bracing herself for whatever was to come. The truth, she realized, was far more terrifying than she could have ever imagined. But instead of hitting her, Damien released her. Aria slowly opened her eyes wondering what's going on.

Damien stepped back, his expression unreadable. The coldness was back, the brief flash of… something… extinguished. "Get dressed," he said, his voice flat. "We're going out."

"Going out? Now? After that... after what I just heard?" she stammered, her mind racing. "Who am I really? Why did you lie to me?"

Damien ignored her questions like she didn't even speak. "There's a dress laid out for you. Be ready in an hour." He turned and walked away, disappearing into another room, leaving Aria alone and trembling.

She stared after him, her mind a chaotic jumble of fear, confusion, and a desperate need for answers. She glanced back at the screen, now blank, mocking her with its silence. Everything she thought she was beginning to understand was crumbling around her. He saved her, yes. He gave her a place to stay. He even claimed her as his fiancé. But none of it was real. It was all a lie. A carefully constructed facade. He was using her. But for what?

With a sigh, Aria turned and walked toward the bedroom Damien had shown her. She needed to think, to plan. But first, she needed to get dressed.

The dress was a crimson masterpiece. A floor-length gown of flowing silk, it shimmered with every movement, clinging to her curves in a way that made her both self-conscious and strangely powerful. There were diamonds, too. A delicate necklace, sparkling earrings, and a bracelet that felt heavy and foreign on her wrist. She didn't remember any of this. But it was all expensive. Showy. Meant to impress.

As she stared at her reflection, she barely recognized the woman staring back. This wasn't her. Or was it? Was this the woman she was supposed to be? A glamorous socialite, draped in wealth and privilege. A mate to a Blackthorn.

But what kind of Blackthorn?

Taking a deep breath, Aria forced herself to focus. She couldn't let Damien see how shaken she was. She needed to play along, to earn his trust, to find out what he was hiding.

When she emerged from the bedroom, Damien was waiting, impeccably dressed in a black suit. He turned, his eyes sweeping over her, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something in them. Admiration? Regret? It was gone before she could be sure.

"You look… acceptable," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Aria bristled at the backhanded compliment. "Where are we going?"

"The Black Crescent Gala," he replied, turning to leave. "It's time you were introduced."

The Black Crescent Gala was an explosion of wealth and power. The grand ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume and anticipation. Men in tailored suits and women in designer gowns mingled, their voices a low hum of gossip and intrigue.

Cameras flashed as Damien led her through the crowd, his hand possessively on her back. All eyes were on them, whispering following in their wake.

"Damien Blackthorn," someone said. "I never thought I would see him here." "Who is that woman?" "His date? She looks...familiar."

Aria felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. She didn't belong here. She was an imposter, a puppet in Damien's game.

Damien stopped, turning to face a group of older men and women, their faces etched with power. "Esteemed elders," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "I would like you to meet Aria, my mate."

A stunned silence fell over the group. An older woman with piercing blue eyes stepped forward. "Mate? Damien, this is… unexpected. You've always been so reclusive. And there was no announcement."

"Some things are best kept private," Damien replied, his smile tight.

"Indeed," another elder said, his gaze fixed on Aria. "But surely you understand that such a claim requires… proof."

Aria's heart leaped into her throat. Proof? What proof could they possibly offer? He was lying, she knew it. And any physical contact she has with him, only makes her wolf stir unwillingly. This couldn't be possible, could it?

Before Aria could even think to protest or what to do, Damien turned to her, his eyes locking with hers. There was a warning in his gaze, a silent command. Then, he reached out, gently stroking her hair away from her neck.

"Damien, what are you doing?" Aria asked, her voice barely a whisper. His eyes darkened as he ignored her.

"I can't do this" she thought.

Then, he bit her.

Not gently. Not playfully. But with a fierce possessiveness that sent a jolt of pure agony through her body. It was a deep, searing pain that resonated with something primal within her, a connection she didn't understand and couldn't control.

Aria screamed, a raw, animalistic sound that echoed through the ballroom. Her body arched against her will, her wolf fighting against the intrusion, the claiming. But it was no use. The bond was being forged, burning into her skin, into her very being.

She stumbled, shaking uncontrollably, her vision spinning. The faces around her blurred, their expressions a mixture of shock, awe, and morbid curiosity.

Damien held her steady, his grip firm, his lips close to her ear. "You're mine now," he whispered, his voice a low, possessive growl.

The pain was receding, replaced by a strange, unsettling calm. A sense of belonging, of connection, that both terrified and intrigued her. She was bound to him now, in a way she couldn't deny. He had marked her, claimed her. And there was nothing she could do about it.

As the crowd erupted into applause, a figure in a dark hooded cloak brushed past Damien, their voice a low murmur that only he could hear.

"You've just sealed your death."

Damien stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he watched the hooded figure disappear into the crowd. He knew who it was. And he knew what she meant. He had just made a move that could cost him everything. But he had no choice.

Turning back to Aria, he forced a smile, ignoring the cold dread that was creeping into his heart. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice deceptively gentle.

Aria stared at him, her eyes wide with confusion and fear. She was his now. But at what cost? What had he done? And what was going to happen to them both?

"I... I don't know," she stammered, her voice trembling.

Damien tightened his grip on her arm, pulling her close. "Don't worry," he whispered, his voice a promise and a threat. "I'll protect you."

Aria wanted to believe him. But deep down, she knew that the man who stood before her was far more dangerou

s than anything she could imagine. And she had just become the biggest pawn in his game.