The Mate Bond
The Mate Bond
~Lyra~
“You’re lying.” Tasha said, and her voice didn’t even sound like hers anymore. It cracked halfway through the sentence like it couldn’t hold itself up, and her eyes–f**k, her eyes–were red and glassy and wide and locked onto me like I was the fire that just burned her entire life down. “You’re f*****g lying.”
་ ཆ ཅ ་ བ
And I just stood there.
Drenched. Flushed. Trembling. Wearing nothing but a ruined expression and Damon’s scent all over me like a
f*****g second skin.
His hand was still on me, glued to my waist like a brand, like he was holding me together and also warning the world not to touch.
And I couldn’t say anything. Not because I didn’t want to. Not because I didn’t have words. But because I had
too many. They were all trying to come out at once. All choking me.
“Say something!” she screamed, and I flinched a little not that I was scared. This wasn’t the Tasha who did
my eyeliner or shared her charger This was a girl who’d just realized her entire world was fake.
Her dad wasn’t the man she thought. And I wasn’t the friend she believed I was. I was the girl who moaned
behind her bedroom wall while her father made me scream into his chest. I was the girl who opened her
thighs when the house went dark. Well she gotta live with it now.
“Is it true?” she asked, voice lower now but so much sharper, like it could slice me into ribbons if I said the wrong thing. “Did you f**k him?”
I blinked.
And Damon–because of f*****g course he would–tightened his grip on my waist and said it first.
“She’s mine,” he said, calm as sin, voice low and,brutal and final. “She’s not just someone I f****d. She’s my
mate.”
Tasha froze.
I saw it. The way her chest locked up. The way her jaw twitched. The way her lip curled like she was trying to hold in a scream and a sob at the same time. Her hands were shaking, her eyes were wild, and then she turned on me again.
“You didn’t tell me,” she said. “You didn’t say anything. You just–what–f****d my dad behind my back like it
was normal?”
My throat felt like it was on fire.
“I didn’t mean to–Let me explain everything”
“Didn’t mean to?!” she snapped. “Oh my God, Lyra, what does that even f*****g mean?! Did you just trip and land on his c**k?!”
I gasped, my whole body flushing, not because she was wrong but because f**k, the way she said it made it worse. I had landed on his c**k. Over and over and over again. I had begged for it. Screamed for it. Begged him to knot me like I was nothing but his little Omega plaything. And now she was looking at me like I was
The Mate Bond
dirt.
My lips parted, but she wasn’t done.
“Is it because I f****d Marcus?” Tasha’s voice exploded through the room like lightning striking a soaked floor.
Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, her chest rising like her lungs couldn’t decide whether to collapse or scream again.
Her fingers trembled at her sides like she wanted to tear something apart–maybe me, maybe the entire house.
“Is that why you’ve been riding my dad’s c**k like a f*****g prize you earned? Because you were mad that I got laid by him?! Is that what this is, Lyra?! Some twisted revenge fantasy you cooked up while I was sleeping upstairs?!”
I opened my mouth, but the words stuck in my throat like needles. I wanted to say no. I wanted to scream that it wasn’t like that, that I didn’t plan this, that I didn’t ask for the Moon to give me him, but I couldn’t.
Because every inch of my skin still burned from where Damon touched me. Because I could still feel the ache between my thighs from the last time he knotted me. Because I knew, deep down, that nothing I said would
matter now.
Tasha’s eyes snapped to me like she could hear my thoughts.
“Oh my f*****g God,” she spat. “You’re just standing there like you’re the victim while he’s groping you in front of me like it’s normal. Like I’m supposed to just stand here and smile while the girl who shared my bed, my clothes, my life, takes the one man who was never supposed to look at you like that!”
Her voice cracked. Her mascara ran. But her rage? It didn’t stop. It got louder. Sharper. Meaner.
“You know what? I don’t give a f**k if he’s your mate,” she shouted, her voice climbing so high it made my head spin.
“I don’t care if the f*****g Moon Goddess herself came down and tattooed his name on your p***y. I don’t care how sacred, how spiritual, how magical your bond is supposed to be. Because guess what, Lyra? If I walked in here right now and said my mate was a six–year–old boy, what the f**k would you say to that?”
She paused, panting, shaking, hands curled into fists like she was holding herself back from throwing them
at me.
“That’s exactly how this sounds,” she hissed. “You’re eighteen. He’s my dad. Do you hear yourself? Do you know how sick this sounds? You’re letting him f**k you raw and knot you and talk about breeding you like a f*****g b***h in heat and you think it’s okay because the Moon said so?”
I couldn’t breathe. My cheeks were wet with tears. My chest was tight. And still–my panties were soaked. My n*****s were hard. My cunt was pulsing like I’d just been touched again, and Damon hadn’t even moved. He
was standing right behind me, hand still warm on my waist, holding me there like a trophy.
“I get it,” Tasha said, and suddenly her voice dropped into something softer, something heartbreakingly bitter.
“I get that the mate bond is powerful. I get that it’s supposed to be sacred. Fine. Great. Beautif
give a f**k. Not when it’s him. Not when it’s my f*****g dad.”
I wanted to say something. Anything. But I couldn’t find the words.
ut I don’t
The Mate Bond
And she wasn’t done.
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“You could’ve had anyone else, Lyra,” she whispered, her voice raw and broken now. “You could’ve waited. You could’ve said no. But you didn’t. You opened your legs and let him ruin you in the same house I grew up in. You let him f**k you while I slept in the next room. While I was busy living my life, you were too busy screaming my dad’s name into the sheets.”
“f**k I just remembered that blood I saw on his bed!! It was fuvking yours you b***h!!!!”
“My dad took your virginity. Do you know how disgusted I feel saying this”
The silence after that sentence felt like a blade.
And then she twisted it.
“Or do you want me to f**k your dad?” she snapped. “Is that what you want, Lyra? Should I ride your father’s c**k until I scream for him the way you scream for mine? Should I let him breed me on your kitchen table so you understand how this feels?”
My eyes filled instantly. My stomach twisted. My mouth hung open, but nothing came out. Because there was
nothing to say.
She saw it.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, stepping back like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “You like this. You f*****g like this.”
I didn’t deny it.
Because my face was flushed. My eyes were wet. My body was throbbing. Damon’s hand was still on me, sliding lower now, dragging up the hem of my shirt slowly like he couldn’t stop claiming me even as the world collapsed around us.
“You’re sick,” she breathed, and her voice didn’t even have venom anymore. It was hollow. Broken. Dead.” You’re not my friend. You never were. You’re just a cunt who smiled while you stabbed me in the back and let
my father fill you.”
And Damon?
He finally spoke.
“She’s mine,” he said, voice low and steady, like it was law. “She’s my Omega. And I will not apologize for claiming what’s mine.”
Tasha stared at him like she didn’t even recognize him anymore. Her eyes flicked to his hand under my shirt. To my flushed face. To the way my thighs pressed together like I was trying to stop the ache.
And then she laughed.
One sharp, bitter, humorless sound that ended with a choked breath.
“You both deserve each other,” she said. “I hope he f***s your body to pieces and leaves you to raise your little knot–puppies alone. I hope you choke on every drop of him.”
My eyes twitched. My jaw clenched. Damon’s grip on my waist grew tighter.
Tasha stepped closer, face wild, voice climbing like she couldn’t stop herself now that the dam had cracked wide open.
3/4
The Mate Bond
“You think you’re special because he comes inside you? You think you’re important because he knots you and whispers pretty lies into your ear while my mom cries herself to sleep?! You’re not a mate. You’re a toy. And he’s going to destroy you. And when he does, I’m going to f*****g laugh.”
I laughed.
It was short. Sharp. Cold.
And then I turned to her, eyes stinging, heart thudding, and said it.
“Shut the f**k up, Tasha.”
She blinked.
The whole room seemed to stop.
you to
“I’m done,” I said, my voice shaking from how hard I was holding it in. “I am done playing nice for understand. I’ve tiptoed around your feelings. I’ve cried over how much this would hurt you. I’ve bent over backwards trying not to make you feel like the world doesn’t revolve around you for once–but guess what?
I’m f*****g done.”
Her mouth opened. I didn’t let her speak.
“I don’t give a f**k if you’re pissed,” I hissed, taking a step toward her now. “Get this into your thick, dumb–ass skull: I don’t care anymore. Not about Marcus. Not about the fact that you can’t handle the world unless it bows at your feet. Your dad is my mate. He’s mine. And I’m not giving him up.”
Her face twisted.
“Oh, you want to know the worst part?” I said, breath hitching. “Even before summer, I’ve always been drawn to him. Before the Moon confirmed it, before he touched me, before he even looked at me like I was anything but the girl who followed you around like a shadow–I wanted him.
I used to dream about him. I used to wet my sheets at night thinking about his voice, his hands, his mouth. And the second I turned eighteen? The second I shifted and felt that pull? I let him have me. Every inch. Every scream. Every knot. Because I f*****g wanted it?
Her eyes widened in horror as the words left my lips, and for a moment time seemed to freeze.
Royalty Writes
#Vote# Thank you all for your support. I hope you enjoy
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