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What’s Wrong Kitten?
What’s Wrong Kitten?
Lyra
I didn’t even wait for a ride. I swear my legs were moving before my brain caught up, and the next thing I knew I was running. Like actually full–on running down the street, hair flying, tears drying on my cheeks, heart pounding like some kind of war drum in my chest.
And I didn’t care how insane I looked. I didn’t care if people saw me and thought oh my God, she’s losing her
mind, because I was losing my mind.
I had to get to him. I couldn’t breathe properly. My whole body was shaking, and I just–I needed to see his face. Right now. Immediately. Or I was going to implode.
And yes, okay, maybe I could’ve waited for a cab or ordered a ride or something normal, but nothing about
this felt normal.
Not the panic inside me, not the way my heart hurt, and definitely not the late–ass period I hadn’t told anyone. about. It was like the moment I said it out loud, something inside me snapped, and now I couldn’t stop
moving until I was in his arms.
By the time the pack estate came into view, my chest was on fire. Like actual fire. My lungs were screaming and my feet felt like they were going to fall off, but I didn’t slow down.
I kept going. Because the second I saw those gates, I knew I was close. I knew he was behind them. And suddenly all I wanted was to throw myself at him and cry and maybe scream and maybe kiss him until I
couldn’t remember my name.
I didn’t wait at the gates. The guards saw me and opened them like they already knew not to stop me. Because duh. Damon was Damon. And I was his Luna. Or his problem. Or both.
Either way, nobody dared say a word. I ran straight into the house, not even stopping to catch my breath, and the second I hit the floor, one of the maids literally gasped and started talking into her earpiece like I was the
freaking president.
“She’s here. His Luna. She’s here for Alpha Damon.”
Yeah. That’s right. Tell them. Announce me. The desperate, possibly pregnant, emotionally unstable little
Luna is here to shake s**t up.
I followed the sound of voices because I already knew where he was. Deep voice. Commanding. Quiet enough to scare you. Loud enough to make grown men shut up. Damon.
I heard him before I saw him. And I didn’t even hesitate. I saw the big oak doors. I heard the meeting going on inside. And I did not care. I didn’t knock. I didn’t pause. I didn’t wait for permission like some polite little
schoolgirl.
Nope.
I shoved the doors open and walked straight in.
And oh my God.
Eight Alphas,
What’s Wrong Kitten?
Eight grown, powerful, insanely intimidating Alphas in full sults sitting around this long–ass table looking like they were about to solve world hunger or declare war or something.
And at the head of it all?
Damon.
My Alpha.
He looked up like he felt me before he saw me, and the second our eyes locked, I swear I stopped breathing.
His face changed. Like instantly. His jaw clenched. His nostrils flared.
His body straightened like he’d just scented danger, except I wasn’t danger. I was his Omega, and I was about to cry again because the second I saw him I remembered why I’d come.
One of the men stood and tried to speak. “Alpha Damon, I don’t believe this meeting…”
“Out,” Damon said. Just that one word.
And everything froze.
“But Alpha-”
“I said out,” he growled, louder this time.
And they left.
Like no questions. No hesitations. No attitude. Just chairs scraping and suits disappearing like they’d all suddenly remembered they had other places to be. Within seconds, the room was empty.
Except for us.
And then he was moving.
Fast.
He didn’t even blink before he reached me, and the second he touched me I fell apart. His arms wrapped around me, and his mouth crashed into mine, and I just melted.
I didn’t care that I probably looked crazy or that my lips were salty with dried tears. I kissed him back like he was air and I’d been drowning.
I clutched his shirt like it was the only thing keeping me upright, and when he finally pulled back and looked into my face, I forgot how to think.
“What happened?” he whispered, voice tight and full of something sharp and scared. “Talk to me, kitten. What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?”
The moment Damon said it-“What happened?“–something inside me just collapsed.
I didn’t even try to hold it together anymore. I couldn’t. It was like those two words opened a trapdoor in my chest, and everything I’d been trying to swallow down just came pouring out of me in one huge, ugly, embarrassing, uncontrollable flood.
My mouth opened to speak, to explain, to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Not a single word. Only this horrible, tight, gasping sob that felt like it was being ripped from my throat with claws.
My whole face crumpled.
< What’s Wrong Kitten?
And then I was crying.
Not cute crying.
Not graceful, soft, single–tear–down–the–cheek movie crying.
No.
I was full–body sobbing, arms shaking, knees buckling, face soaked, chest heaving like I couldn’t get enough
air
And even as I cried, I hated myself for how dramatic it looked, for how messy it sounded, but I couldn’t stop. My emotions weren’t listening to me anymore. They were in full rebellion mode. And my body? My body just
wanted him.
He didn’t even flinch.
He didn’t look shocked..
He didn’t try to stop me or tell me to calm down.
He just caught me.
Immediately. Without hesitation. Like his arms had been waiting for this exact breakdown.
He pulled me into his chest so fast and so tight I thought he was going to crush me, and I didn’t care. I buried my face in his shirt, clutched fistfuls of fabric like I needed it to breathe, and let it all out. I cried so hard I
couldn’t see straight.
My makeup was absolutely ruined. My body wouldn’t stop shaking. My thighs kept pressing together like they didn’t know if they wanted to close or open. And through it all, he just held me.
He pressed his hand to the back of my head and stroked my hair gently, slowly, tenderly, like I was this precious little thing that might fall apart completely if he didn’t keep touching me.
“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered against my hair. “I’ve got you, kitten.”
I whimpered.
Actually whimpered.
My knees gave way completely and he just adjusted, wrapping one strong arm under my thighs and lifting me off the ground like I weighed nothing.
And even though I was still crying, something about being held like that so easily, so tightly, so completely- made my brain short–circuit in the worst, dirtiest, most confusing way.
And then..
Then he leaned down, his lips brushing the edge of my ear, and said the filthiest, most ridiculous thi ever heard whispered to a crying girl in her Alpha’s arms.
“What’s wrong, kitten?” he murmured, voice low and syrup–thick. “You miss Daddy?”
I swear my whole body tensed at once.
‘e
Heat slammed between my thighs like a door being kicked open. My breath hitched. My fingers curled even tighter in his shirt.
< What’s Wrong Kitten?
I was still crying. Still shaking. Still completely emotionally wrecked. And yet my n*****s hardened. My core throbbed. And my Omega hormones lit up like someone flipped the switch back to heat mode.
I couldn’t even answer him.
I just whimpered again, this tiny cracked sound that barely escaped my throat.
He knew.
He f*****g knew.
And then he made it worse.
So much worse.
“You miss Daddy’s c**k?” he whispered right into my ear, so close I could feel the heat of his breath slide down my neck like a finger.
My stomach dropped. My thighs jerked. I felt myself throb. Like full–on pulse between my legs. My face flushed so hard I felt like it might peel off. And my tears kept coming, but now they were tangled with
something hotter.
“I know you do,” he said softly. “I know you miss the way I stretch you open. The way I fill that tight little hole until you’re whining into the pillow, begging for Daddy to stop but taking it anyway.”
My breath hitched again.
It wasn’t fair.
I was a mess. A sobbing, confused, maybe–pregnant little Omega who came here to tell him something important, and now I was leaking between my legs just from hearing his voice. My body wasn’t listening to me anymore. My body only listened to him.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured. “Anything, baby. You say the word, and Daddy will give it to you. You want comfort? I’ll hold you all night. You want c**k? I’ll bend you over the f*****g table right now and f**k you full again. You want both? You’ll get both.”
I tried to speak.
I really did.
I opened my mouth. I pushed out this tiny sound that was maybe a syllable. But it broke off again. I hiccupped. My shoulders shook. My brain felt like soup. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to scream or kiss him or sink into the floor and disappear or wrap my thighs around his waist and beg him to f**k the truth out of me.
He leaned back just enough to look at my face.
I was sure I looked wrecked.
Eyes swollen. Lips trembling. Nose running. Still trembling in his arms like I’d lost control of every
But he didn’t flinch.
He looked at me like I was beautiful.
Like I was his.
And when his thumb brushed a tear from my cheek and he kissed the corner of my mouth, I finally found my
voice.
4/5
What’s Wrong Kitten?
It cracked.
It trembled.
But it came out.
.
“I don’t know what’s happening to me,” I whispered. “I think I’m pregnant, Damon.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I said quickly, breath shaking. “I’ve never been this late before. Not even close. I thought maybe I was just stressed or maybe it was my diet or something stupid, but I feel I’m pregnant, and my boobs hurt, Damon.
“They hurt. And they look different, and my heat was off, and my scent changed, and I didn’t say anything because I was scared and I didn’t want to sound crazy, and then Tasha started saying s**t and I just…
His whole body froze.
And I stopped breathing.
Royalty Writes
Thank you all so much for your support
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