Chapter 10: WRONG DAMIEN
Third-Person POV
Sera was halfway through retying the strap on her boot when the dorm room door slammed open.
She didn't look up immediately. She didn't have to.
Leona's scent shifted the air—salt and panic and something cracked right down the middle.
"Sera," Leona said, voice breaking on the first syllable.
That got her attention.
Sera straightened slowly, turning just in time to see Leona standing there with red eyes, trembling hands, and tear tracks she clearly hadn't bothered to wipe away. Her usual warmth—soft smiles, nervous chatter—was gone, replaced with something raw and frightened.
"What happened?" Sera asked, already on her feet.
Leona tried to speak. Failed. Her shoulders shook once before she pressed her palms to her face and let out a small, broken sound that made something sharp twist in Sera's chest.
Sera crossed the room in three steps and pulled her into a hug without asking.
"Breathe," she said quietly. "You don't have to talk yet. Just breathe. And tell me what happened slowly."
Leona clutched the fabric of Sera's shirt like it was the only solid thing in the world. "He—he cheated," she whispered. "Damien cheated on me."
The room went very still.
Sera's jaw tightened. "Your Damien?"
Leona nodded against her shoulder. "I saw it. I didn't mean to—I just wanted to talk to him because he's been so distant lately and I thought maybe I did something wrong and then—" Her voice broke again. "He didn't even look sorry."
Sera's arms tightened instinctively. "He's a fae," she said flatly. "They're cowards when it comes to accountability."
Leona gave a weak, watery laugh that dissolved into another sob. "I don't know what to do. I have a mate now, Sera. I didn't ask for that, but it happened and—what does that even mean? Am I supposed to just forget everything I felt for Damien? I thought that… I thought since Seth didn't want me I'd have a chance with Damien. She's not even his mate… it must've been going on for long."
"You're supposed to stop letting someone treat you like you're disposable," Sera said immediately.
Leona pulled back, blinking at her. "That was… very decisive."
"Because this isn't complicated," Sera replied. Her eyes were dark now. Focused. Dangerous. "He cheated. He lied. He made you feel small. That's the end of the discussion."
"But—"
"No," Sera cut in. "No 'but.' You don't owe him closure. You don't owe him patience. You don't owe him understanding." Her voice lowered. "If anyone's going to hurt you, it won't be without consequences."
Leona hesitated. "Sera—what are you doing?"
Sera was already reaching for her jacket.
"I'm ending this," she said. "For you. Needed to exercise anyway." She said and smirked.
"Sera—wait—"
Too late.
---
The central courtyard was crowded—late afternoon, students spilling out of classes, sunlight glinting off wings and horns and magic-infused jewelry. Conversations hummed, laughter bounced off stone, life went on as if heartbreak wasn't currently sitting like a blade behind Sera's ribs.
She scanned the crowd once.
There.
Damien.
Tall. Dark-haired. Arrogant posture. Laughing with a group near the fountain like nothing in the world had gone wrong.
Her steps were steady as she approached, shadows trailing lazily behind her heels. A few students noticed. Whispered. Moved aside.
Good.
She stopped directly in front of him.
"Damien," she said.
He turned—slowly—clearly expecting something else entirely.
Instead, he found himself face-to-face with a demon whose eyes were burning.
Before he could understand anything, he'd been sent flying across the room. He groaned as the pillar behind him cracked. He got up and sped toward her.
"What the hell is your problem?" he asked coolly.
Sera didn't answer.
She slapped him. Extremely hard.
The sound cracked across the courtyard—sharp, echoing, impossible to ignore.
Gasps rippled outward. Conversations died mid-sentence. Someone dropped a book.
Damien staggered half a step, shock written all over his face as his hand came up to his cheek. "What—do you have a death wish?" he thundered.
Sera leaned in, voice low and lethal. "You cheated on my friend."
"Wait, what? I don't even know who you—"
She slapped him again.
That was when everything went wrong.
Because the Damien she had just struck wasn't fae.
The air changed instantly.
Cold rushed outward like a sudden winter wind. Shadows deepened. Heartbeats stuttered.
The man straightened slowly, posture shifting—not defensive now, but predatory. His eyes lifted to meet hers, and when they did—
Red.
Not anger.
Recognition.
The crowd went silent.
Someone whispered, "Oh gods."
Another said, "She actually slapped Prince Damien."
Sera's stomach dropped.
Because this wasn't Leona's ex.
This was Damien Florez.
The Vampire Prince.
"Interesting," he said slowly, touching his cheek with deliberate calm. His gaze never left her face. "No one has struck me in public in over a century."
Sera didn't move. Didn't retreat. If she was going down, she was going down standing.
"Wrong Damien. I apologize for ruining your pretty face," she smiled, straining.
A few students audibly inhaled.
Damien's expression flickered—annoyance first, sharp and cutting. "You should choose your targets more carefully, demon."
Then—
He inhaled.
Everything stopped.
His pupils dilated. His heartbeat slammed once—hard enough that Sera felt it, like an echo inside her own chest.
Something pulled.
Heat flared through her ribs, sudden and blinding, stronger than anything she'd felt with Alaric. Her shadows exploded outward in response, writhing, defensive.
Damien's lips curved slowly.
Not a smile.
A smirk.
"Well," he murmured, eyes darkening with interest, "that explains it."
Sera's voice came out sharp. "Explains what?"
He leaned closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "Why my heart just decided to remember how to beat. And why I couldn't get angry and your head isn't rolling on the ground right now."
Her breath hitched despite herself.
No. No, no, no. Not again.
---
Across the courtyard, Alaric froze.
He felt it—the surge, the shift, the unmistakable snap of fate tightening its grip. His wings flared faintly as his gaze locked onto the scene unfolding near the fountain.
Seth swore under his breath and stared at Leona, who had just entered the courtyard and covered her mouth, surprised and piecing together what had happened.
"That's bad," she muttered. "That's really bad."
Damien straightened, addressing the stunned crowd without taking his eyes off Sera. "I believe this confrontation is over."
No one argued.
Students scattered like birds, whispering furiously as they fled. Within moments, only the five of them remained in the open space—along with a growing tension thick enough to choke on.
Sera clenched her fists. "You're not who I thought you were, and I apologize for hitting you."
"No," he agreed lightly. "But you hit me anyway. I like that. And you're exactly who I want you to be."
She glared. "I don't care who you are."
His smirk widened. "Oh, you will, baby. You're my mate."
Her chest burned—hotter now, sharper, undeniable.
She took a step back. "This doesn't mean anything."
Damien followed her movement easily, eyes gleaming. "Denial suits you. Very dramatic."
"I already have a mate," she snapped.
That got his attention. And the remaining three.
Alaric smirked.
"Oh?" Damien said softly. "That's unfortunate for them."
Alaric's jaw tightened, while Seth stifled a laugh.
"Who do you think she'll end up with?" Adam, Seth's wolf, asked.
"I have no idea. I think Alaric. 'Cause I know she won't pick both. Or maybe she will. Or maybe she won't pick any. I dunno. She amazes me all the time."
"Okay, I've given you enough time. What about our mate? She's hurt. Look at her eyes. She's been crying. Go to mate, please."
Seth looked at Leona and felt his heart about to break. Her shoulders were still shaking. It was taking him everything not to rush up to her and kiss those tears away. Instead, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked over to her.
Meanwhile, Sera and Damien were still staring at each other, and Alaric was trying not to rush up there and rip his head off.
Her shadows curled tighter around her legs, agitated. "This—whatever you think this is—it's a mistake."
Damien studied her for a long moment, expression unreadable.
Then, quietly, confidently: "Fate doesn't make mistakes."
He winked and smiled, then turned away, leg brushing stone, as if dismissing the entire event.
Over his shoulder, he added, "We'll talk later, Seraphine."
She stiffened.
"I didn't tell you my name."
He glanced back, red eyes glowing faintly. "You didn't have to."
He vanished—literally—dissolving into mist that scattered into the air and disappeared.
Sera stood there, heart pounding, shadows trembling, the warmth in her chest roaring like fire.
Alaric reached her seconds later, grabbing her wrist gently but firmly. "What did he say to you?"
She pulled free, shaking. "Nothing that matters."
His jaw tightened. "That was the Vampire Prince."
"I noticed. Thank you. I have ears and eyes."
Alaric's voice dropped, fear slipping through. "Did you feel it? Is what he's saying true? Is… is he… your mate?"
She didn't answer.
She couldn't.
Because deep down—beneath the denial, beneath the anger, beneath everything—
She knew.
And fate had just added another chain.