Bound By Moonlight to My Mates (by Sofange Daye) novel Chapter 40

Chapter 40

I get to my feet, smoothing my hands down the front of my hoodie. It is too large and tattered, one of the few things I brought with me. It was my father’s. The night he died, I wrapped myself in it, breathing in his scent. I wore it every day for a week. My mother had to wrestle it off of me. When she returned it, freshly laundered, it didn’t smell the same, but it offered the same level of comfort. Even now.

‘You need to find the knight,‘ Tala chastises me. ‘She can take you back to the one who will mark you.’

I click the lock on the door and crack it open as if there will be an ambush waiting for me on the other side. The hallway is dim, and the music filters up louder than before. Despite it being the wee hours of the morning, the party is still going strong downstairs. Leah is supposed to be just down the hall, but when I knock, no one answers. The door creaks open a few inches, revealing it to be dark and empty inside. No luggage. No scent. Nothing.

My stomach sinks. I shouldn’t go downstairs. I know I shouldn’t. But my feet carry me down the stairwell anyway. My pulse hammers in my ears in rhythm with the music. Almost like it is egging me to go forward.

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I step from the darkened hallway, blinded by the neon lights. Body writhe together like shadows under the strobes. I search through the crowd for Leah’s brown curls or Damon’s unmistakable height. I know they are both down here, hiding from me for one reason or another.

My eyes fall on the VIP booth, and a growl hisses through my teeth. There he is. Damon. My Damon. My rogue mate. Leaning back on the leather seat, with a woman draped across his lap like a fucking ornament. Her fake manicured nails trace the buttons on his shirt as she presses her overly large chest to his.

She leans down, capturing his mouth with hers, and he’s letting her. I watch as his hands dig into her hips, grinding her along his pants. Gone is the look of anger he held for me. Now, they are lined with something that borders between hunger and boredom.

Heat slams into my face, and I move without thinking. Tala is snarling in my mind. ‘Ours.

The neon smears across my vision as I cross the dance floor, shoving my way through the dancers.

“Damon!” My voice carries above the music.

His eyes lock on me, and for a second something like guilt flickers across his face. The woman turns, rolling her eyes, her lipstick smudged from the kiss.

“What in the hell are you doing?‘ I shout. “Is this a joke to you?”

The music seems to get quieter, but I don’t care. People are staring now, their phones out, sensing the drama. Damon’s jaw flexes with irritation. He murmurs something to the woman, and she slides off his lap, giving me a cheshire cat grin, before retreating into the crowd.

Then he stands. All six–foot–four of him. Nothing but muscle and menace. He crosses the space between us in three strides, ignoring the growl on my lips.

“You absolute bastard,” I yell, completely aware of how feral I sound. “I am leaving tonight, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

Instead of answering me. Damon’s arms shoot out, wrapping around my waist. He hauls me off my feet like I weigh nothing. Tossing me over his shoulder, the crowd parts as he carries me out.

“Put me down!” I hammer my fists at his back, my face burns with jealousy and humiliation. “I said, put me down.”

He doesn’t. He adjusts me over his shoulder, one arm locking around my thighs, his hand swiping a quick slap to my behind.

Chapter 40.

My hair swings in my face as he pushes through the double doors.

“Damon!” I’m half screaming, half snarling now. “I’ll kill you! I swear I’ll…”

His grip tightens. He growls low in his chest, so deep I feel it through my ribs. “Not here, Charlotte.”

The stairwell door slams behind us, cutting off the music. He strides up the stairs two at a time, my fists thumping against his back. He doesn’t flinch, but that doesn’t stop me from fighting.

“Damon, I hate you!” My voice cracks, my hands fisting his shirt.

“No, you don’t.” His voice is hard. “You’re jealous.”

I scoff loudly. “I am not jealous.”

He reaches his apartment, shoulders the door open, and kicks it shut behind him. Only then does he set me down. My feet hit the floor hard enough to jar my teeth. I whirl on him, trembling, eyes wet, heart hammering against my ribs.

The look on his face is lethal and unreadable, somewhere between anger and hunger.

“What the hell was that?” I demand, voice raw. “Are you trying to destroy me?”

For a moment, he says nothing, just staring at me like he wants to devour me and burn me alive all at once.

I stomp my foot in defiance. “Answer me.”

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