Chapter 7 – Pinned In Place

Damon The moment I stepped into the room, she shot up from her seat, too fast, too sudden. Her body swayed, and for a fleeting second, I thought she might collapse again. She caught herself against the wall, fingers gripping the surface as if it was the only thing keeping her standing. I exhaled sharply. “Sit down.” My voice was clipped, firm – an order. Her legs bent without hesitation, dropping her onto the nearest chair. A spark of irritation flickered in my chest. Did she obey so easily because she recognized my authority, or because she was weak? Zane stirred in my mind. She’s exhausted. Let her rest. I ignored him. Her posture was rigid, hands curled into the fabric of her dress. I studied her, searching for something, anything that would break the illusion of familiarity. But every glance only deepened the unease coiling inside me. The curve of her jaw, the way her hair fell over her shoulders, even the way she held herself – it was all too similar to Natalie. Natalie was my first mate. But Natalie died ten years ago, and this woman was not her. I forced my focus elsewhere. “How old are you?” “Eighteen,” she answered immediately. Zane let out a low rumble of approval, but I wasn’t interested in whatever foolish ideas my wolf had. I leaned against the edge of the desk across from her, arms folded against my chest. “Did your father tell you anything before you came here? Are you here with ulterior motives to seize a seat in the Royal Council?” She blinked, startled by the accusation. Then, quickly, she shook her head. “No. I’m only here for the bride selection.” I let the silence stretch between us, watching her expression carefully. Her face remained composed, but her fingers twitched against the fabric of her dress, betraying her nerves. My gut told me there was more to this woman than she let on. A glint of blue nestled in her hair and drew my attention. The sapphire caught the dim candlelight, shimmering against the dark strands. My breath hitched. It was impossible. I stepped forward before I even realized what I was doing. “What is this?” My voice came out sharp, cutting through the still air like a blade. She raised a hand to the pin, fingers grazing the gemstone. “What’s wrong with it?” She didn’t know. She didn’t know, Zane echoed, but I wasn’t listening. My vision tunneled. My fingers closed around the pin before she could react, yanking it from her hair. She flinched, eyes wide. “What the –” “Do you have any idea what you’re wearing! How dare you?” My voice was rough with anger, my grip tightening around the delicate piece of jewelry. She looked shocked, genuinely confused. “It’s just a hairpin.” But it wasn’t. The memory slammed into me like a storm – Natalie standing in front of me, her soft smile framed by midnight curls, this very pin tucked in her hair. I had placed it there myself on the night of her Luna ceremony. And now, it sat in my palm, tainted by someone else’s touch. I turned my gaze back to Lila. The resemblance was haunting, a cruel trick played by fate. I stepped closer, towering over her. “I thought you were innocent, but now it seems you’re just another scheming opportunist.” She paled. “What? No, this was given to me –” “I don’t care.” My fingers clenched around the pin until the edges bit into my palm. Blood pricked my skin, but I barely felt it. “Do not mistake my tolerance for favor.” Her mouth opened as if to argue, but she hesitated, as if realizing nothing she said would matter. Zane snarled in frustration. You’re being irrational. The pin was in the storage room, so how did it get on Elena’s head? Someone must have set her up. I ground my teeth and snapped at him. I control everything that happens in this palace and she had no right. I needed to get away from Elena before I did something I’d regret. “Get out.” My words came cold, final. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then stood quickly, dipping into a stiff curtsey before rushing toward the door. As it closed behind her, I let out a slow breath, willing my pulse to steady. Her retreating footsteps echoed in my ears long after she was gone. Zane was restless. I wanted her to stay. I clenched my fists. I don’t care what you want. But that was a lie and Zane knew it. Because the moment she was gone, the room felt unbearably empty. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, staring at the damn hairpin like it would give me answers. When the knock came, I knew who it was before she even entered. Isabella glided into the room, draped in a gown that clung to her curves, her lips painted the same shade of red she wore when she wanted something. She swayed her hips as she floated closer, pressing herself against me like she always did. “Damon,” she purred, fingers trailing up my chest. “You’re tense. Let me help.” There was a time when I would’ve indulged in her advances; having Isabella around dulled Zane’s feral lust and emptiness inside me without our Mate. I knew what people said about me, but Isabella was the only thing that kept me from truly being a Tyrant. I grasped her wrists, pulling her hands away. The scent of her perfume was overpowering, sickly sweet. “Not tonight.” Shock flickered across her face. Isabella had never been denied before. Her gaze narrowed. “Is it because of that girl, Elena?” Elena’s name stirred a warmth in my core and my patience for Isabella snapped. “Don’t jump to conclusions.” “If my sister Natalie were here –” I cut her off with a sharp glare. “Don’t.” She swallowed, her confidence wavering for the first time. Normally, I let Isabella use Natalie’s memory as leverage but she must have realized she pushed too far this time. Isabella stepped back, forcing a tight smile. “Forgive me. I only meant to remind you… no one can replace her.” “Get out.” I had kicked a woman out of this room for the second time tonight. She lingered a moment longer, as if waiting for me to change my mind. When I didn’t, she turned on her heel and left. I exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down my face when a mind-link from Ronan broke the silence. My King, when will the first elimination be held? I forced my mind to focus. Right. The damn selection. I had agreed to it to keep Jackson from hounding me about responsibilities, but I hadn’t given it much thought since it began. Now, I saw Elena’s face in my mind. It wasn’t just her resemblance to Natalie. It was the way she had met my gaze without flinching, the way she had spoken despite her obvious fear. She had looked at me like I was something to be wary of; not as a King, or a tyrant, but a man. The selection must continue, I told Ronan. But… I want to meet the girls myself. Ronan was silent for a moment. Understood. I’ll arrange it. I closed the link and leaned against the desk, staring down at the hairpin still in my palm.