Breed Me. Daddy Alpha novel Chapter 87

You Dare Touch What’s Mi

You Dare Touch What’s Mine!

2

Damon~

The moment I turned the corner and saw him standing over her, I knew I was going to kill him.

He wasn’t touching her anymore, but his body was still angled toward hers like he had some kind of right.

Lyra was backed against the wall, breathing too fast, her skin flushed with heat, her fists clenched at her sides, and the little f**k in front of her still had the audacity to smirk like the predator he thought he was.

I didn’t shout. I didn’t snarl. I spoke clearly, with a voice that could cut through steel.

“Step away from her. Now.”

He turned toward me slowly, like he hadn’t just been caught trying to overpower a heat–drunk Omega.

He looked me up and down, his eyes dragging across my chest, my shoulders, the veins bulging down my forearms from how hard I was holding back the urge to rip out his throat.

And then, with a laugh that was louder than it should’ve been, he spoke.

“Oh, this is rich. You’re him, aren’t you?” His voice was dripping with mockery. “You’re the one f*****g her right? I can smell you”

He glanced back at her, then looked at me again, eyes narrowed.

“I gotta say, she’s a lucky b***h. Her legs look like they were shaking before I even touched her. She must’ve been thinking about you. Or maybe about both of us.”

He chuckled again. Louder. Bolder.

“Yeah. That’s a better idea. Maybe we should f**k her together. I bet she’d love that. You can take her mouth, I’ll take her p***y. Or we can switch. She’s in heat, she won’t know the difference. Hell, she might not even remember it happened.”

Lyra gasped behind him. He didn’t turn. He didn’t even acknowledge her.

“She was already moaning when I walked up to her. Already so wet she was shaking. She looks at people like she’s starving to be touched. I thought you’d trained her better, but damn, man, she’s still acting like a free–use slut in public.”

I still hadn’t moved. I wanted him to keep talking. I wanted to hear every single filthy, arrogant thing that came out of his mouth so I could justify the pain I was about to deliver.

“You must f**k her rough, right?” he asked, still smiling. “You seem like the type to pull her hair and make her cry. She probably thanks you for slapping her. Bet she whimpers every time you zip your pants down. And you know what? I’m not even mad. I just want a turn. I’m not greedy. I don’t even need to be first.”

That was it.

I walked forward, slow and deliberate, every step echoing off the corridor walls like a countdown to his f*****g execution.

He was still smiling.

Until I moved faster than he could blink and slammed him against the lockers with one hand around his

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You Dare Touch What’s

throat. The sound of the metal crumpling under his back was beautiful. He gasped, choking, eyes wide with

panic for the first time, but I didn’t loosen my grip.

“You opened your mouth too many times,” I said, my voice cold and steady, not a single word wasted. “You spoke about her like she was a thing. You touched her while she was in heat. You disrespected a bonded Omega and mocked her Alpha. You talked about ******g her while I watched. You suggested we share her like some kind of toy.”

He made a strangled noise and tried to shake his head, but I pushed him harder into the lockers until he

stilled.

“She is not your entertainment,” I continued, still holding him by the throat. “She is not your f*****g experiment. She is mine. My Omega. My heat–drunk, freshly–f****d, scent–soaked, trembling little mate. And

you… You are a piece of s**t who thought that a few inches of height and a teenage d**k made you powerful

enough to speak her name.”

I let go of his throat, just enough to let him cough once.

Then I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him again, this time into the tiled floor, crouching down beside

him so he could see the rage in my face.

“She said no. I know you heard her. She said ‘please don’t.‘ And you kept talking. You thought her fear was flirtation. You thought her heat gave you a right to use her. But what you didn’t know–what you clearly still

don’t understand–is that she was already marked. Already claimed. Already owned. You put your hands on

something that belongs to me, and now I’m going to make you bleed for it.”

He whimpered something, but I didn’t care.

I grabbed him by the jaw and forced his face up to mine.

“Do you know who I am?” I asked, every syllable low and razor–sharp. “I’m Damon Thornvale. Alpha of

Thornvale Ridge. I’ve killed more men than you’ve kissed girls. I’ve broken wolves twice your size and fed

them to my pack. And I don’t forgive disrespect.”

I threw him back against the floor like garbage, stood up, and looked down at him one last time.

I stared down at him.

His body was twitching where I’d thrown him, gasping like he couldn’t decide whether to crawl away or beg

me for his life.

And I didn’t move.

I didn’t flinch.

I just stood there, looming over him/blood humming in my ears.

My voice came low, precise, and full of unshakeable truth.

rates. I

“I should kill you right now,” I said, every word heavy as a stone. “Right here. In this hallway. In front of whoever walks around that corner next. I should take your jaw in my hand and twist until i should make you eat the words you just spoke about her. Make you choke on them. Gag on them. Bleed them

out.”

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You Dare Touch What’s Mi

He whimpered, pressing his palm against his chest where I’d slammed him.

I took one step closer, towering over him like the executioner he hadn’t believed was real.

“I should make you an example so brutal that no unmated male in this entire district would ever look at a heat–drunk Omega again without tasting bile. That’s what you deserve. That’s what your kind of filth earns.”

And then–he surfaced.

My wolf.

He didn’t growl. He didn’t whisper.

He spoke.

(Rip his c**k off.)

His voice in my head was full, deep, snarling with hunger.

(Rip it off and feed it to him. Make him gag on it. Make her watch. Let her see what we do to anyone who

touches what belongs to us.)

I clenched my fists. My breath caught fire. My muscles surged under my skin.

“Stop,” I whispered back in my mind, jaw tight, veins bulging. “She’s watching. She doesn’t need to see that.”

(She does. She needs to see. She needs to understand what happens when someone looks at her like prey. We are not soft. We are not merciful. We punish.)

I looked down at the boy again.

His eyes were wide now. He was shaking. He felt it–the shift. The change. The pressure in the air as my form began to rupture beneath my skin.

My voice dropped lower, deeper, more primal.

“I gave you a chance,” I said. “I let you speak. I let you laugh. I let you imagine a world where you could even breathe the same air as her and live. But now you’ve taken something from her. You didn’t mark her skin, but you touched her soul. You scared her. You made her beg. You made her doubt her safety. And for that-”

My neck cracked. My shoulders popped. My eyes burned gold.

“For that, I am going to show you the kind of monster they whisper about in war stories.”

(Shift. Let me out. Let me taste him. We’ll start with his c**k. We’ll tear it from his body and leave him screaming in the dirt. Then we’ll break his hips. His spine. His face. Let him crawl without teeth. Let him live with the memory of what we did to him every time he pisses blood.)

I exhaled hard, my claws half–formed, my voice still human–barely.

“You thought you were big,” I said, stepping over him now. “You thought your voice made you strong. You thought she was just another girl. But you were wrong. She is mine. And I am not a man. Not entirely. Not

anymore.”

I crouched beside him, grabbed his jaw again, and forced him to look at me.

“Do you feel that pressure in the air?” I whispered. “That weight sitting on your chest? That’s death. That’s me, deciding what part of you to rip off first.”

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You Dare Touch What’s Mi

(Start with the cock.)

My wolf’s voice was louder now. My bones cracked louder. My teeth lengthened.

(Let her watch. Let her smell his piss. Let her moan while we paint the floor red.)

I growled aloud this time–low and guttural.

And when I looked up, Lyra was still there.

Watching.

Trembling.

Eyes wide, cheeks flushed, thighs pressed together like her heat was rising in sync with my fury.

My voice softened when I saw her–but only slightly.

“Look away if you don’t want to see this,” I said.

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