Breed Me. Daddy Alpha novel Chapter 177

~Lyra~

Damon leaned forward now, resting both hands on the edge of the blood-splattered table, and looked them dead in the eye.

“The rogue problem,” he said, as if the past fifteen minutes of chaos hadn’t happened. “You’ve all been ignoring it. Hoping it would fade. Hoping the weaker packs would get slaughtered before the rogues made it to your doorstep.”

He scanned their faces. Not a flinch. Not a blink. Cowards.

He looked around the table, his gaze slicing through every old man like a blade.

“You think they’re just angry exiles with no plan? Wrong. They’re building something. And from the way your border packs are going quiet? I’d say they’re almost ready.”

Some of the men stiffened. I could feel it, panic trying to rise in their throats like bile, but too afraid to come out. No one wanted to admit what we all knew. They’d ignored it. They’d ignored the signs. The missing scouts. The torn patrol gear.

The howls that sounded too human in the woods at night. The stench of blood from abandoned dens. The burned messages scratched into trees.

But I knew.

And I don’t mean I guessed. I don’t mean I heard some rumors and pieced it together. I mean I knew. Because I had seen the patterns.

Because when you grow up at the bottom-Omega, girl, marked as pretty but not powerful-you learn how to listen. You learn how to see what no one else sees because they’re too busy thinking you’re just a set of tits in a tight shirt.

So I leaned forward. Still sitting in the dead man’s chair. Still covered in Damon’s scent. Still wet between my legs and tingling from adrenaline. I leaned forward and spoke.

“Do any of you know how many disappearances were reported last month in the southern crescent?”

They turned to look at me like I had grown another head. Like I wasn’t supposed to speak. Like I wasn’t supposed to know anything. But I didn’t wait for permission. I wasn’t that kind of Luna.

“Eleven,” I said. “Three border patrols. Two messengers. One Beta. And five girls. All Omegas. None found.”

Damon’s head turned toward me slowly. He was listening. Really listening now.

I didn’t stop.

“Most of those reports never made it here. They were buried. Blamed on rogue animals. Dismissed as elopements. But they weren’t. They were taken. Lured. By someone who knew the patrol schedules. By someone who knew where to find the girls who wouldn’t be missed right away.”

One of the elders opened his mouth to interrupt me, but Damon raised a hand and he shut up so fast I swear he swallowed his tongue.

I kept going. My voice was steady. Loud and Clear. Not just loud-for-a-girl. Not just brave-for-an-Omega. Powerful. Because I had their attention now. And fuck, it felt good.

“The rogues are building a pack,” I said, standing now. “Not a gang. Not a rebellion. A pack. They’re taking Omegas to breed

“I love watching you dominate. I love it when you take control like that. When you talk in a room full of wolves and make them sit like obedient little dogs. Shit, kitten, keep going. Don’t stop now.”

I smirked.

And not the shy kind of smirk. Not the girlish, oops-I-didn’t-mean-to-cause-a-stir kind of smirk.

No. I smirked like a bitch who knew exactly what the fuck she was doing.

Like I’d just bent the whole room to my voice and my mouth and my mind, and now the scariest Alpha alive was getting turned on watching me rip the floor out from under his enemies with nothing but facts and fury.

I leaned back in the chair. Legs crossed. Arms resting lightly on the armrests like a queen on her throne, blood still staining the corner of the wood beneath me.

“I read,” I said casually, loud enough for all of them to hear. “I listen. I ask questions.

Damon groaned softly under his breath, and I felt it. Felt the way it wasn’t just admiration anymore-it was hunger. A different kind of tension building under his skin. Lust mixed with reverence. Filthy awe. Respect wrapped in a snarl.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me one day,” he muttered, and I laughed, soft, dangerous, unapologetic. “Only if you piss me off.”