Chapter 3 The Night It All Changed

Isabella's POV

I stood by the window in Damien's bedroom...no, our bedroom now-my arms crossed tightly over my chest. The moonlight poured through the glass, soft and silver, casting long shadows on the dark wooden floor.

I stared outside, at the tall iron gates, the winding road beyond them, and the thick forest that swallowed it all whole.

Behind me, I could feel him.

Damien Wolfe.

The man who owned this house.

The man who now... owned me.

He wasn't touching me. Not yet. But his presence was a weight. Like gravity itself shifted when he stepped into a room. The space grew smaller, warmer, stranger.

"Come sit," he said, his voice low, deep, like the night itself had spoken.

I turned slowly. He sat on the edge of the bed, jacket off, shirt unbuttoned halfway. His skin was smooth, marked only by a single scar across his collarbone. His eyes were darker than usual. Almost glowing.

I walked toward him, each step feeling too loud. My nightgown whispered against my skin, thin as air, useless against the cold creeping up my spine.

I stopped a few feet away.

His gaze never left me. "You're afraid."

I swallowed hard. "No. I'm not."

He tilted his head. "You should be."

My fists clenched at my sides. "Why? Because you're a monster?"

His mouth curved slightly, like he found my words amusing. "Because I'm a man with no mercy. And tonight, you wear my name. That means you are mine."

I didn't flinch. Not even when he stood and stepped closer.

But I felt it again-that strange pull inside me. Like a thread tying my soul to his. It wasn't just fear. It was something else.

Something older.

His hand lifted slowly. He touched a strand of my hair, curling it between his fingers. "You smell like lavender," he murmured.

"It's just soap."

"No. It's you. I've always remembered that scent."

My breath caught. "What do you mean?"

But he didn't answer.

Instead, his hand moved to the side of my face, thumb brushing against my cheek. I hated how my skin tingle where he touched me. Hated how my heart thudded faster, louder, as if it knew him.

As if it remembered something my mind didn't.

He leaned in. I felt the warmth of his breath, the closeness of his mouth. I should've pulled away. I should've slapped him.

But I didn't.

Something in his eyes stopped me. There was no anger there. No cruelty.

Just hunger.

And maybe something else. Something softer. Something broken.

"Damien," I whispered, not even sure what I meant to say.

Then it happened.

CRASH.

The window behind us exploded inward with a blast of glass and fire. The heat slapped against my face. I dropped to the floor without thinking, pulling Damien down with me.

Gunshots rang out. Fast. Sharp. Close.

My ears rang, but my body moved on its own. I rolled, pulling Damien with me behind the heavy dresser. My nightgown was torn. Blood dripped from a cut on my leg, but I barely noticed.

Another shot hit the bedpost. Splinters flew.

Damien growled beside me, low and furious. I turned to him. His eyes weren't glowing anymore-they were burning. Not with fire, but something worse.

He was going to shift. Right here. Right now.

"Don't," I hissed. "You'll tear this place apart."

"They'll die for this," he snarled.

"Let me handle it."

He froze.

I crawled out from behind the dresser, silent, fast. My body remembered moves I hadn't used in years. I counted the shadows. The angles. The flash of a gun's muzzle from across the courtyard.

One shooter. Maybe two.

I grabbed a piece of broken metal from the ground and threw it at the hallway light switch. Darkness swallowed the room.

Silence.

I moved faster now, pressing against the wall, avoiding the glass. I reached the far window and peered through the shattered frame.

One man. On the roof opposite. Rifle aimed.

My breath slowed.

I slipped through the side door, bare feet light against the stone floor. I reached the hallway, then the stairs, then the side exit. Cold air bit at my skin, but I didn't care.

I moved like a ghost.

I climbed the wall. The stones were rough, but I had learned long ago how to use my weight, how to balance even on the thinnest ledges.

I reached the rooftop.

The shooter was there.He didn't hear me until it was too late. I slammed into him from behind, knocking the gun from his hands. He spun, surprised.

I kicked his knee. He stumbled.He tried to punch me. I ducked.I grabbed the back of his head and slammed it into the stone ledge. Once. Twice.

He went still.

I stood there, panting, staring down at his body. The blood on my hands felt warm. Familiar.

My heart beat hard in my ears.

I had done this before.

Too many times.

And somehow... I hadn't forgotten any of it.

I climbed back down, slipping into the shadows of the estate, moving like I used to when I was someone else.

When I was his daughter.

By the time I returned to the room, Damien had already handled the second man. His shirt was torn, but he wasn't hurt.

His eyes locked on mine as I stepped inside.

"You killed him," he said quietly.

I didn't answer.

"You climbed the roof. Took him out. With no weapon."

Still, I said nothing.

He walked toward me. His hand reached for mine. He lifted it gently, looking at the blood, the bruises, the small cut on my knuckle.

"Who trained you, Isabella?"

My lips parted. The words trembled on the edge of my mouth.

"My father," I said at last. "Before he died, he made sure I could protect myself."

Damien's expression didn't change, but I felt something shift in the room. "I knew there was more to you than lace and perfume."

"I never wanted this life," I said. "But it never let me go." He stepped closer. His hands cupped my face.

"I didn't marry you just to claim a name," he whispered. "I married you because I knew you'd survive me."

My throat tightened. "That's not love."

"No," he agreed. "It's instinct. Something ancient. Something dangerous."

He kissed me.

It wasn't gentle.

It was fire meeting fire.

I didn't fight it.Because deep down, I knew something terrifying.I felt the same pull he did. And now that it has been awakened...

There was no going back.