Her mouth fell open. A sound escaped her lips. "What…what is going on with you, Damien? Why are you doing this?" The bond between them pulled taut, the invisible thread of matehood straining, bleeding. She searched his face desperately for a crack, for the man she loved hidden beneath the ruthless king before her.
"I am not doing anything," Damien replied. "You are. Why can't you just accept that Isolde is carrying my child?" He stepped closer now, his presence overwhelming, suffocating, his scent invading her lungs until her wolf snarled in confusion. "You would hurt my child? My child?"
The accusation cut deeper than any blade. Luna staggered, her throat closing. He believed that. He truly believed she was capable of such treachery. "You believe I would go that far?" she whispered.
"I believe you feel scorned," Damien bit out. "Even though it was your idea to carry on with the mating in the first place." He had turned her sacrifice, her compromise, into her guilt.
