Chosen By The Cursed Alpha King Chapter 233

DAMIEN'S POV

I slammed the bedroom door behind me so hard the frame rattled.

The sound echoed down the empty palace corridor like a gunshot, but I didn't care who heard. Let them hear. Let the whole damn kingdom know how furious I was.

I paced the length of my old room—still the same dark wood, the same massive bed, the same heavy curtains that blocked out the moonlight when I needed to disappear. Nothing had changed here since I was a kid. Except me. Except everything.

I dropped onto the edge of the mattress, elbows on my knees, hands fisting in my hair.

Did love make a person blind? Stupid? Completely fucking insane?

Because that's what Maximus had to be.

My brother—the King, the one powerful wolf had just sat there nodding while his pregnant mate suggested we let humans stroll right onto sacred ground. Let them come. Like it was a goddamn picnic.

I could still see Emilia's calm face, Maximus's smirk, the way they looked at each other like they were sharing some private joke the rest of us weren't in on.

Let them come.

To the Crescent Moon territory.

They wanted to invite surveyors with their drones and their measuring tapes and their fucking blueprints.

I fell backward onto the bed, arms spread wide, staring up at the ceiling. My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped iron bands around my ribs and was slowly tightening them.

Breathe. Just breathe.

But every inhale brought fresh rage. Every exhale carried the image of Rose—alone on that human campus, trusting me to keep her safe while I was stuck here arguing with family who'd lost their minds.

I closed my eyes.

And there she was.

Rose.

On this very bed.

Ass up, face pressed into the pillow, back arched perfectly while I drove into her from behind. Her moans muffled against the sheets, her fingers clawing at the blankets, her body shaking every time I bottomed out. The way she'd gasped my name...'Damien, please, harder'...like she couldn't get enough. The way her walls had clenched around me when she came, pulling me deeper, milking every drop.

My cock jumped hard against the zipper of my pants.

Heat flooded me, sudden and vicious.

I groaned low in my throat, hand sliding down to adjust myself. It hasn't even been a day without her and it already felt like torture. I needed to hear her voice. Needed to know she was safe, tucked away in our house, probably curled up with a book or texting me a million times about how much she missed me.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, thumb hovering over her name.

A smile tugged at my lips—real, for the first time since I'd stormed out of Maximus's office.

She had to be home by now. Class would've ended hours ago. James would've picked her up. She was probably in the shower, or raiding the fridge, or sprawled on the couch in my T-shirt waiting for me to call.

I hit dial.

The line rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

No answer.

Straight to voicemail.

My smile faded.

I tried again.

This time there was no ring. Just dead air.

A cold prickle crawled up my spine.

Even if she was busy, she always left a message. Always.

I sat up fast, heart kicking hard against my ribs.

Just then the phone vibrated in my hand.

James.

I answered on the first ring. "Tell me she's with you."

A pause—too long.

"Sorry to bother you, sir," James said carefully, "but I've been waiting at the main gate for over two hours. There's no sign of Miss Rose. I tried calling her phone several times. It's not going through."

My heart gave a violent, painful thud.

"What are you talking about?" My voice came out rough. Too rough.

"Maybe she got held up," he offered. "Class ran late. Study group. I'll wait a little longer—"

I was already on my feet, pacing again, free hand raking through my hair. "Stay there. Keep trying her number. Find out the last time anyone saw her."

"Yes, sir."

I ended the call.

The room tilted.

My wolf surged forward, claws out, snarling so loud it vibrated in my skull.

I dialed Matteo next.

He picked up instantly. "Boss."

"Where the hell is my mate?"

Tense silence.

Too long.

Too heavy.

Then Matteo's voice—quiet, careful, like he was stepping around broken glass.

"I'm sorry, boss."

Three words.

Three words that ripped the ground out from under me.

My knees hit the floor.

The phone slipped from my fingers.

The world went quiet.

Deadly quiet.

And then the roar started inside me—low at first, building, building, until it tore out of my throat in a sound that shook the windows.

They'd taken her.

Someone had taken my mate.