Mated To My Mate's Worst Enemy Chapter 8

DAMON

Two weeks.

Aria wouldn't be back for two more weeks.

I stared at her text message for the tenth time that hour, my wolf pacing restlessly beneath my skin. Something about it felt wrong—too cold, too impersonal. This wasn't how Aria communicated with me. Even when she was upset, there was always a warmth to her words, a softness that spoke of the bond we'd built over the years.

This message felt like it had been written by a stranger.

But what could I do? She'd said she was safe, that she'd found a lead on rare healing herbs. It was exactly the kind of thing Aria would do—throw herself into dangerous territory if it meant helping the pack.

Helping Sera.

The thought made my wolf snarl with an emotion I didn't want to examine too closely.

I'd thrown myself into pack work after that, trying to distract myself from the growing unease in my chest. There were territorial disputes to mediate, trade agreements to review, training schedules to approve. The work of an Alpha never stopped, and I'd let it pile up over the past month while I'd been focused on Sera and the bonding ceremony.

It was only when I sat down at my desk in the pack office that I realized just how much I'd been neglecting.

Papers covered every surface—reports that needed signing, requests that required responses, complaints that demanded attention. My inbox was overflowing with emails, and the message log showed at least thirty calls I'd missed from various pack members.

How had it gotten this bad?

I started sorting through the mess, trying to prioritize, but I couldn't seem to focus. Everything was scattered, disorganized. I couldn't find the border patrol schedule I needed, couldn't locate the financial reports from last quarter, couldn't even figure out which stack of papers was which.

That's when it hit me.

Aria had been organizing all of this.

For years, she'd been quietly managing the administrative side of pack business—filing reports, scheduling meetings, making sure I actually responded to time-sensitive requests. She'd never made a big deal about it, had never asked for recognition or payment. She'd just... done it. Because she loved me, and she wanted to help.

And I'd been so focused on Sera that I hadn't even noticed when Aria stopped.

My phone buzzed with another urgent message—this time from my head warrior, Marcus, asking about the training rotation I'd promised to approve three days ago. A rotation I couldn't find because Aria wasn't here to tell me where she'd filed it.

I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache building behind my eyes.

The door to my office opened, and one of the younger pack members—David, I think—came in carrying a tray.

"Brought you lunch, Alpha," he said, setting it down on the corner of my desk that wasn't buried in paperwork.

I glanced at the tray and felt my stomach turn. Roasted chicken with some kind of cream sauce, mashed potatoes drowning in gravy, and vegetables that looked like they'd been boiled to death.

I hated cream sauces. They made me nauseous, always had.

Aria knew that. She'd always brought me grilled meat, simple and seasoned the way I liked it. Fresh vegetables, not overcooked. And coffee—strong, black coffee that actually helped me focus instead of the weak, milky stuff sitting on this tray.

"Thank you, David," I said, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. It wasn't his fault he didn't know my preferences.

He left, and I stared at the unappetizing meal, my appetite completely gone.

This was pathetic. I was an Alpha, for Moon's sake. I should be able to handle my own pack business without falling apart just because one omega wasn't here to organize my life.

But as I looked around at the chaos of my office, at the cold meal I couldn't stomach, at the endless pile of work I couldn't seem to tackle, I felt something uncomfortably close to panic.

I needed help.

"Damon?"

I looked up to find Sera standing in my doorway, looking pale but determined. She was dressed in a simple blue dress that complemented her eyes, and her hair was pulled back in a neat braid. The mating mark on her throat gleamed in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows.

"Sera, what are you doing here? You should be resting." I stood up, immediately moving toward her. "The healers said—"

"The healers are being overprotective," she interrupted gently. "I feel fine. Better than fine, actually. And I heard you were overwhelmed with work."

She stepped into my office, her gaze sweeping over the disaster of papers and files.

"I want to help," she said firmly. "I should be helping. I'm your Luna now, and if Aria is out there risking her life to find a cure for me, the least I can do is step up and take on some of her duties."

I hesitated. "Sera, you're still recovering from the silver poisoning. I don't want you to overexert yourself."

"I'm not going to overexert myself by organizing some paperwork." She moved to my desk, already starting to sort through the chaos with practiced efficiency. "Besides, it would be rude of me not to help when I'm the reason Aria left in the first place. She's searching for rare herbs to help cure my poisoning, isn't she? That's what Margaret said."

Was she?

I realized I didn't actually know what Aria was looking for. I'd assumed it was general healing herbs, things the pack needed. But if it was specifically for Sera...

Guilt twisted in my gut. Of course Aria would be out there risking herself for Sera. That's who she was—selfless to a fault, always putting others before herself.

"Let me help you, Damon," Sera said softly, reaching out to touch my arm. "I'm your mate. Your Luna. This is what I'm supposed to do."

She was right. Sera was my Luna now, my chosen mate. It made sense for her to take on these responsibilities.

So why did it feel so wrong?

My wolf growled low in my chest, but I ignored him. I'd been ignoring him a lot lately.

"Alright," I said finally. "But if you start feeling weak or dizzy, you tell me immediately."

Sera's face lit up with a smile that should have warmed me but somehow didn't quite reach the cold place in my chest.

Over the next few days, Sera threw herself into helping me run the pack. She organized my office with ruthless efficiency, responded to emails I'd been putting off, even sat in on pack meetings to take notes.

She was good at it—better than I'd expected. Confident, capable, making decisions that would have taken me hours to deliberate over.

But it wasn't the same.

Sera ran the pack with business-like efficiency, making logical choices that served the pack's interests. But there was no warmth to it, no personal touch. When Aria had helped, she'd known every pack member by name, had asked about their families, had genuinely cared about solving their problems.

Sera cared about results.

And I was starting to realize there was a difference.

Still, I was grateful for the help. Especially as my wolf grew more and more restless with each day that passed without word from Aria.

One week turned into eight days, then nine, then ten. The blood moon was approaching—just four days away now—and Aria still hadn't come home.

I'd called her three more times. Each call went straight to voicemail. Her phone was off.

That unease in my gut grew into full-blown worry.

"She's probably just out of range," Sera said when she caught me staring at my phone for the hundredth time. "You know how spotty cell service can be in the deep forests."

She was probably right. But my wolf didn't believe it.

On the eleventh day, I made a decision.

"Sera," I said, finding her in my office where she'd been cataloging the pack's medical supplies. "I need to talk to you about something."

She looked up, concern flickering across her face. "Is everything alright?"

"It's about Aria. When she gets back..." I paused, trying to find the right words. "Things have been strained between us. I think we need some time alone to work through our issues. I'm planning to take her on a private trip, just the two of us."

Sera's expression went carefully blank. "A trip? What kind of trip?"