Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother (Seraphina and Damien) novel Chapter 229

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Damien’s POVO

I couldn’t sleep.

The guest room door stayed closed all night. No sounds from inside. No movement. Just silence that felt like a physical presence pressing down on me.

I sat in the living room until three AM. Then four. Then five. Watching the darkness gradually fade to gray through the windows.

My mind kept circling back to yesterday. To Emma. To that hotel room I couldn’t remember entering. To

those marks on her neck that I couldn’t remember

making.

And to Sera’s face. That terrible calm. That emptiness in her eyes.

She knew something. Or suspected something. I could feel it.

But what exactly? And how?

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By six AM, I’d made a decision.

I needed to talk to Emma. Needed to understand what

the fuck had actually happened. Needed answers before this whole thing exploded in my face.

My phone buzzed. Lucas.

**Lucas: Where were you yesterday? Claire’s pissed. Says you missed three meetings.**

Right. Work. The thing I was supposed to be doing instead of having mental breakdowns.

**Me: Had to handle something. I’ll be in today.**

**Lucas: You better be. The northern border situation is getting worse. We need to discuss strategy.**

I stared at the message. The northern border. That’s what had started all of this. The reports. The “urgent” meeting. Gabriel’s trap.

Because it had been a trap. Obviously. The question was what kind.

I heard footsteps on the stairs. Light. Careful.

Sera appeared in the doorway. Already dressed. Hair

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pulled back. Face carefully neutral.

“Morning,” I said.

“Morning.”

She walked past me into the kitchen. Started making coffee. Her movements were precise. Mechanical. Like she was going through programmed motions.

“Did you sleep?” I asked.

“Some.” She pulled out two mugs. Poured coffee into both. Set one on the counter near me without making eye contact. “You?”

“Not really.”

Silence fell. Just the sound of coffee dripping and the clock ticking and the enormous weight of everything

unsaid.

“I need to go to the office today,” I said finally. “Handle some things.”

“Okay.”

“Can you take the kids to school?”

“Of course.”

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More silence.

I wanted to say something. To explain. To reach across this growing distance between us.

But what would I even say? *Sorry, I think I might have cheated on you but I don’t remember doing it?*

“Sera-”

“I should get the kids up.” She set down her mug. Walked past me again. “They’ll be late otherwise.”

She disappeared upstairs before I could respond.

I stood there alone in the kitchen. My coffee going cold. My chest tight with dread.

The drive to the office took forever.

Traffic was light. I made every green light. But each mile felt like dragging myself through concrete.

I kept rehearsing what I’d say to Emma. How I’d ask the questions that needed asking without sounding like I was accusing her of something.

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*What happened that night? Did I really… did we

really…?*

My stomach churned just thinking about it.

I pulled into the underground parking. Took the elevator to the top floor. The executive level where Emma’s desk sat right outside my office.

The elevator doors opened.

Her desk was empty.

I stopped. Stared at the vacant chair. The dark computer screen. The perfectly organized surface that Emma kept obsessively neat.

Maybe she was just running late?

I checked my watch. Eight–thirty. Emma was never late. She was usually here by seven–thirty, coffee

made, messages sorted, ready to brief me on the day’s

schedule.

I walked to my office. Dropped my bag. Came back out

to her desk.

Still empty.

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A bad feeling settled in my gut.

I pulled out my phone. Called her.

It rang. And rang. And rang.

Voicemail.

“Emma, it’s Damien. Call me when you get this. We need to talk.”

I hung up. Stood there staring at her empty chair.

*Where the hell is she?*

Claire appeared from around the corner. She took one look at my face and frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Have you seen Emma this morning?”

“Emma? No.” Claire glanced at the empty desk. “That’s odd. She’s always here early.”

“Yeah.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I tried calling. Went to voicemail.”

“Maybe she’s sick?” Claire suggested. “Did she mention feeling unwell yesterday?”

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Yesterday. When I’d supposedly dragged her to a hotel room and-

I pushed the thought away. “I don’t know. I wasn’t here most of yesterday.”

Claire’s frown deepened. “You weren’t? Where were you?”

“Long story.” I turned back toward my office. “Can you check with HR? See if Emma called in or filed any leave requests?”

“Sure. Give me a minute.”

She disappeared down the hallway. I went back into

my

office. Sat down at my desk. Tried to focus on the mountain of paperwork waiting for me.

My mind wouldn’t cooperate. Just kept circling back to Emma. To that hotel room. To Sera’s empty eyes.

Claire knocked on my doorframe. “Found something.”

I looked up. “What?”

“Emma requested emergency leave yesterday afternoon. Submitted the forms electronically around

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five PM.” Claire held up her tablet. “Says here she needs two weeks minimum. Possibly longer.”

My chest tightened. “Did she give a reason?”

“Medical. But no specifics.” Claire’s expression was concerned now. “That’s not like her. Emma’s usually very thorough with documentation.”

Two weeks. Possibly longer.

Right after that night. Right after whatever happened between us.

“Damien?” Claire stepped into the office. “What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“It’s nothing.” The lie came automatically. “Just… surprised. Emma’s usually so reliable.”

“She is. Which is why this is strange.” Claire set the tablet on my desk. “The request was approved automatically because of the medical designation. But there’s no return date listed. No contact information.

Just ‘will advise.“”

I stared at the screen. At Emma’s name and employee number and that cryptic “will advise.”

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“Try calling her again,” Claire suggested. “Make sure

she’s okay.”

“Already did. Went to voicemail.”

“Try her home number?”

“I don’t have it.” I realized how that sounded. “We’ve

always communicated through work channels.”

Claire gave me a look that said she found that odd but wasn’t going to comment. She lingered in the doorway. “Damien, are you sure everything’s alright?”

“Yeah. Just dealing with some pack business. Northern

border situation.”

“Right.” She didn’t look convinced. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

She left. The door closed softly behind her.

I sat there staring at Emma’s leave request. Two weeks minimum. Possibly longer.

*What the hell happened that night?*

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