Damian's POV

Chapter 3

“Mr. Blackthorn, how do you feel standing here as the youngest billionaire CEO to win this award tonight?”

The reporter’s question came fast, sharp, like a blade meant to cut right through me. Flashbulbs popped across the stage, bright enough to blind a weaker man. But I kept my face calm, my shoulders straight, my posture unshaken.

I leaned closer to the microphone. My voice was deep, smooth, controlled. “I don’t feel, I achieve. Wealth is not about emotions, it's about power. And power belongs to those willing to take it.”

The hall fell silent for a beat. Then the applause came. It was loud, thunderous, waves crashing against me. Cameras clicked, people cheered, and I stood still, cold and steady, as though I had only confirmed what they already knew, Damian Blackthorn was untouchable.

They placed the award in my hands, a crystal plaque, heavy and shining. I raised it once, not in joy but in dominance. The light bounced off it, scattering across the hall, and every single eye in the room locked on me. That was how I liked it: control, attention, fear.

When I stepped down, whispers followed like shadows. Men wanted to shake my hand. Women wanted to be noticed by me, but only one woman decided she would not leave tonight without trying.

She appeared as if the moment had been planned. Tall, elegant, in a black silk dress that clung to her body like it was made for her alone. Diamonds dangled from her ears, glinting under the chandeliers. Her red lips curved into a smile that was not shy, not polite, but a straight invitation.

She moved into my path with precision. “Congratulations, Mr. Blackthorn, I have been dying to meet the man behind Blackthorn Enterprises.”

I studied her the way I study every person quickly, sharply. Wealthy, polished, used to winning, used to taking. The type who had never been told no.

“Dying already?” I smirked. “Then let’s not waste time.”

Her laugh was soft but practiced, echoing above the clink of champagne glasses. “Straight to the point, I like that.”

The night stretched on, endless speeches and shallow conversations. I left before it ended. My driver brought the car to the side entrance, far from the noise of the main doors. She followed me easily, her heels tapping against the pavement, her presence bold, certain.

Inside the car, her perfume filled the space. Sweet, thick, expensive but it clung too heavy in my throat. She leaned closer, her fingers brushing my wrist like she thought she could claim me with a single touch.

“So,” she whispered, “where are we celebrating, Damian?”

“Hotel.” I didn’t look at her when I said it. My eyes stayed fixed on the city lights rushing past the window.

Her hand slid onto my thigh, slow and sure. “Perfect.”

The hotel was five stars, the kind of place where every hallway smelled of roses and every staff member bowed twice before leaving. I opened the door to the suite, let her step inside, and watched as she crossed straight to the minibar as though she already owned the room.

“Whiskey?” she asked, pulling down a glass.

“Straight.” My tie was loose around my neck, but my eyes stayed sharp on her.

She poured, handed me the drink, her fingers lingering on mine like she wanted me to notice. “Men like you are rare. Powerful. Dangerous.” Her lips curved again. “I like danger.”

I drank, slow and deliberate. The whiskey burned my throat, but the fire that spread inside me wasn’t from the alcohol. It was something else. Something darker.

My wolf.

He had been restless since the stage, clawing under my skin, pressing against my ribs like he wanted out. Maybe it was the crowd, maybe it was the flash of lights, maybe it was her perfume too sweet, too false, suffocating me with every breath.

My chest tightened, my pulse hammered in my ears. My vision blurred, my eyes burning with the glow I fought to bury for years.

The glass cracked in my hand.

Her laugh cut short. “Damian?” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

I dropped the broken glass into the trash, my voice sharp. “Stay here.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“Out.”

I didn’t wait for her reply. The tie hit the couch, my steps fast, the door shutting behind me before she could follow.

Heat climbed through my veins, my wolf pushing harder, angrier. I needed air, I needed darkness. If I kept him locked inside, he would tear me apart.

The hotel backed onto thick woods. I moved quickly, long strides carrying me through the lot, past the last golden lamps, until the trees swallowed me whole.

The wolf roared inside me, shaking the cage I had built with years of iron control. My muscles pulled, my skin rippled, my bones ached as if they were breaking and reforming all at once.

My jaw clenched, I gritted my teeth, pain lanced through me, sharp and merciless. My spine stretched, my shoulders cracked, claws tore from my fingers, pushing against flesh that could no longer contain them.

I bit back a growl, but the sound still ripped from my throat, deep and animal. My eyes burned brighter, glowing gold in the darkness. My body trembled, caught between two shapes, neither man nor wolf but something cursed in between.

I dug my claws into the dirt, sucking in sharp breaths, trying to hold onto myself. If I let the shift take me fully, someone would hear, someone would know.

The woods were quiet, but then a twig snapped. My head snapped up, vision sharp, hearing tuned to the smallest sound.

She was there, the woman she had followed. Her heels were gone, her dress dragging against the grass, her hair loose from its perfect shape. Her eyes widened when she saw me, her painted lips trembling.

“Damian?” Her voice cracked, barely a whisper.

I didn’t move, my chest rose and fell, each breath rough. My claws gleamed in the moonlight,  teeth sharp against my lips.

She stepped closer. “Oh my God…” Her face turned pale. “You….you are not human!”

The scream tore from her throat, high and sharp, echoing through the trees.

My wolf snapped, before she could turn, before the sound carried too far, I moved, fast, deadly. My hand slashed across her throat, claws tearing deep.

Her blood sprayed hot against the night air. Her eyes froze wide, locked in horror, before her body dropped lifeless onto the earth.

I stood over her, chest heaving, half man, half beast. My claws dripped red. My breath came heavy, the copper tang of blood filling my lungs.

The wolf inside me settled, satisfied by the kill. This was what he wanted: blood, silence, dominance.

But then, I heard another sound, it was not the echo of her fall. Not the cry of a bird, it was a  gasp.

I spun, my eyes glowing gold, claws still wet, and froze when I saw the figure standing at the edge of the trees.

Someone else had seen.