Breed Me. Daddy Alpha novel Chapter 187

~Lyra~

“Damon… please…”

I whispered it before I even meant to. My throat was still burning.

My knees were still on the floor. My pulse was still sprinting like it didn’t know if I was dying or just barely surviving.

But I said his name.

Because I saw him.

I saw his body shaking, shoulders pulsing beneath his shirt like his skin was tearing from the inside.

His claws were still buried in Camilla’s neck, his lips curled back over his fangs, and his chest was rising in hard, heaving waves like he couldn’t catch his breath. Like he wasn’t trying to breathe at all.

He was growling.

And honestly, I knew what happened to people who stood too close to an Alpha caught between forms. I knew what happened when they lost control. When the beast inside them woke up and didn’t know the difference between prey and punishment. “Damon… please,” I said again, louder now, dragging myself up from the floor, one trembling hand reaching out toward him like I could touch him back into himself. “Let her go. You don’t need to do this. I’m right here.”

His head turned slightly.

Only slightly.

His eyes flicked to me. Just for a second. But in that second, I saw it.

The war.

The man I loved-my mate, my Alpha-he was still in there.

But something else was clawing through. Something older.

And then he spoke.

Or they did.

“No!”

The word came out in two voices.

One was his. Damon’s. Husky, furious, low like it scraped the bottom of his soul.

The other?

It was deeper. Louder. Hollow and ancient and echoing in a way that made my skin crawl and my blood turn to ice. It wasn’t just a growl. It was a presence. Something inside him had spoken.

Something other.

Camilla screamed.

I don’t know if it was from the sound or the pressure of his claws digging deeper, but it was real. Not manipulative. Not fake. Real. Raw. Terrified.

Damon’s hands shook.

His chest was heaving faster now, every breath sounding like a fight to stay human. His jaw cracked. His neck popped.He was twitching like he was trying to control himself.

His claws curved sharper. His shoulders twitched. His veins bulged so hard it looked painful.

Camilla’s hands scrambled against his chest, smacking, begging, clawing like a desperate animal trying to escape a fire it started.

“I didn’t mean it!” she screamed, sobbing. “Damon, please! I was-I was scared-she was taking you from me!”

“She is mine!” Damon snapped, both voices speaking at once now, layered and booming through the room. “She was given to me by the Moon herself. You are a fucking contract. She is my mate. My Luna. My breath.”

He slammed her harder into the wall, and I swear to God the whole house shook.

“Damon,” I gasped, stumbling toward him, my voice cracking from the fire in my throat. “Look at me. Look at me!”

“Come back…”

I whispered it like a prayer, like his name was the only spell I had left in me. My voice still trembled, hoarse and torn from screaming, from choking, from pleading.

My throat felt like it had been wrapped in smoke and barbed wire, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care how broken I sounded.

I didn’t care how small I was compared to the beast rising in front of me. Because I knew it was him.

Even with the claws and fangs and blackened eyes.

He was still mine.

And I needed him to remember that.

I stepped closer, swallowing the pain, the fear, the leftover terror still crawling across my skin like ice. My hand reached for him, slow and open, not to fight him—never to fight him—but to anchor him. To remind him.

He didn’t blink.

He just stood there, fists clenched at his sides, claws still wet, chest heaving like he couldn’t decide whether to breathe or roar. The gold in his eyes was gone. Just black now. Pure black.

But he was listening.

I could feel it.

He hadn’t moved toward me. But he hadn’t moved away either. And that meant something.

“You’re still here,” I said softly, my voice shaking. “You’re still Damon. You’re still mine.”

He growled.

“I know you want to tear her apart,” I continued. “I know what she did. I know how close I was to dying. I know what it did to you. I felt it. But I don’t want her blood on your hands. Not for me.”