Breed Me. Daddy Alpha novel Chapter 185

~Lyra~

Fuck.

I swear to every celestial body up there, I thought that was it.

The end.

The dramatic, gasping, slow-motion fall of Lyra, aged eighteen, freshly mated, still sore from getting ruined by the only man who’s ever made me forget my name-and about to be strangled to death on her own damn floor by a mascara-smeared banshee with abandonment issues.

Honestly? I thought I was going to die.

Not later. Not metaphorically. Not “oh my god, I’m dying” like when Damon’s tongue is inside me and my soul is slipping out through my moans—I mean real death. No more orgasms. No more eye-rolls. No more “yes, Daddy” whispered into darkened rooms. Just… gone. A cautionary tale told in hushed whispers around pack fires.

She was hot. She was stubborn. She got choked out by a crazy ex.

That was almost me.

I swear I even started hearing that stupid, soft piano music they play in sad Omega films. I could feel my body giving in. My lungs were already on fire. My throat felt like it was closing from the inside out.

My vision was closing in like the edges of the world were being erased. There was nothing but that cloth, my heartbeat pounding in my head like war drums, and her voice behind me screaming like a woman possessed.

“Die, you fucking bitch!”

That’s what she said.

Like it was her battle cry. Like she was proud of it. Like choking me out on my own fucking territory was going to win her something. Newsflash, Camilla-it’s giving desperate, not deadly.

But I’ll give it to her, she had me for a second. My knees buckled. My body spasmed. My mouth was open, gasping, gagging, but nothing came in. No air. No sound. Just panic. Just rage. Just that feeling of helplessness slithering up my spine like venom.

But you know what else kicked in?

Instinct.

Not the scared kind. The survival kind. The Omega fire they warned people about but no one really believed existed. The kind that says not today, bitch. I might be young. I might be half-broken. But I was not going to die on the floor with cum still leaking out of me and no damn closure.

So I fought.

Hard.

I let my body drop, fast and heavy, deadweight straight to the ground. My back hit her legs. She stumbled slightly but didn’t let go. I clawed at the cloth, dug my nails into whatever I could reach, and twisted my neck like I was trying to break out of a noose. The world kept spinning. My lungs screamed. But I kept going.

My fingers found skin-hers-and I didn’t hesitate. I scratched. I tore into her with everything I had. I didn’t care if I was breaking nails or peeling flesh. I wanted her to feel me fighting.

“You ruined everything!” she shrieked behind me, the words spat through gritted teeth like venom.

I couldn’t answer. I was too busy surviving. Too busy elbowing her stomach and kicking at the floor and silently screaming every curse word I’ve ever heard in my life.

And just when I thought I couldn’t fight anymore.

Just when I felt my body start to slump-

Just when the darkness started blooming at the edge of my vision like black flowers-

I heard him.

Oh my fucking God.

Damon wasn’t just moving.

He was unleashing.

The sound he made wasn’t human. It wasn’t even Alpha. It was dark.

His boots cracked against the floor as he crossed the room, every step carrying the kind of fury that made the air itself recoil. His hands were clenched into fists, his back broad and rippling with tension, and when his eyes locked on Camilla, the world around him changed.

He moved like lightning-fast, brutal, unstoppable.

One second she was backing up, hands trembling, her mouth opening like she was going to say something.

And the next?

His hand was around her neck.

Not gently. Not with warning. Gripped. Possessive. Dominant. Wrathful.

He slammed her into the wall with a crack so loud I jumped. The plaster shattered behind her head. Her legs left the ground. Her back arched. She gasped as his fingers tightened.

“Damon-” she croaked, barely able to get the word out, her nails digging into his wrist, trying to pull him off.