Damian couldn't sleep the whole night. He tossed and turned, but no matter what, his thoughts kept drifting back to his mate and their earlier interaction. It was clear she wasn't happy, but it had to be done.
Just by following her for a few days, he got to know so many things about her. For starters, she didn't like roaming around the village and preferred to stay inside her home. He soon learned that her days were mostly consumed by household chores, keeping her inside the house almost all the time. The only time she stepped outside was when she went to the women's warehouse.
When he came to the village in hopes of getting closer to his mate, no matter what he did, he couldn't find the opportunity. She was always surrounded by so many people.
It was difficult for him to get close to her. His mate seemed so oblivious to her surroundings as if she wasn't feeling the bond as intensely as he was. He understood that she was human, and perhaps that was why it felt different for her, but he couldn't tolerate it any longer.
He knew he had to do something before her bastard of a father got her married to some jerk. He would follow her if she married someone else, and then he'd have no choice but to kill that bastard.
He knew that village life differed from the city, but he hadn't expected such a stark contrast. His initial plan was to get close to her, but of course, he couldn't. That's why he decided to talk to her father directly.
He planned everything carefully just to impress her father, to show him that he was a good choice for his daughter. But in the end, all he had to say was that he was from the city and owned a business, and that was it—her father agreed without hesitation. It was clear he didn't truly care about her.
After talking to her brother, Joga, he learned that they had been planning her marriage for years. At 23, she was already considered too old to marry, as girls in the village typically got married at 14 or 15. However, her family had delayed her marriage for so long in hopes of securing a large dowry. It is a village tradition, that the groom had to pay a significant amount of money to the bride's family for marrying her.
Just then, he understood the situation his mate was in with her family. From the way her father spoke to her, it was clear that they didn't care whether she was happy or sad. All that mattered to him was the dowry.
He knew he had scared her a little, but he could do nothing about it. She was his mate, and eventually, she would come to terms with the new reality. Deep down, he believed he had done the right thing. If he hadn't stepped in, her father would have married her off to someone else.
He wanted to go after her when she ran away from the living room earlier, but he knew she needed some space and couldn't bring himself to follow her.
After talking to her father and brother about the wedding tasks and plans, he decided to go see where she was, It was almost evening. when he got into his car and took a turn to follow her. He saw her approaching the house and didn't want to face her right now, but noticed how she was sad, not angry, but sad. He didn't want to deflate her mood further. Without hesitation, he parked the car in front of the house and quickly entered.
He excused himself to go to the kitchen to talk to her. There she was on the floor, grinding something on the stone grinder, talking about him. It made his wolf stir. It didn't matter how she was talking about him; the fact that she asked about him meant something, right?
She was feisty, damn. He wanted to punch himself if that attitude of hers wasn't making him hard. That skin of hers... He had to swallow the grunt that was threatening to spill out of him when his lips brushed against her palm.
He assured her, but he knew she wasn't fully believing him. Still, he hoped she would. Tomorrow, he planned to take her to the city. He bet she would like that.
On the other hand, Maya couldn't sleep either. Her thoughts were consumed by Damian—Damian and his eyes, Damian and his full lips, Damian and his strong thighs. She groaned as she couldn't help but think about how he had kissed her palm and wondered if he would kiss her again tomorrow.
The entire night, she lay awake, thinking about him relentlessly, then the next moment cursing him for causing chaos in her life.
For all she could curse him, but the real reason she couldn't sleep was because her mind was consumed with thoughts of what might happen tomorrow. Meeting him… maybe even touching him.
She was thinking about what they would do to spend time together tomorrow.
The next morning, Maya subconsciously chose the best skirt she had—a dark green sage-coloured one, paired with a matching blouse. She couldn't quite understand why, but she wanted to look her best today. She also adorned herself with jewelry, wearing a necklace and earrings that caught the light. It wasn't every day that she put on makeup—honestly, she didn't wear much—but today she applied a little kohl to her eyes and some lipstick to her lips.
As she came out of her room, she found her mother in the living room. It seemed like their entire house was designed so that every room was connected to the living room in some way. Her mother was busy cleaning and decorating the couch, making the space look more inviting.
Her mother looked her up and down, taking in her appearance. "It's good that you're dressed properly," she said. "Some other guests are also coming with Damian."
WHAT?
Hadn't he said they would spend the day together? The sudden disappointment hit her, leaving her surprised at how much it affected her. She found herself questioning why she was so impacted by him, by his words and his presence. What was it about him that stirred these emotions within her?
"Why?" Her voice came out harsher than she intended. "I mean, did he say he was coming with others today?" She spoke softer this time, deliberately trying to control her tone.
Her mother scolded her, "Maya, shut up. You shouldn't question him like that. He will be your husband—respect him."
An argument was on the tip of her tongue, but at the last moment, she decided to just hold her thoughts. Not questioning her husband—then how was she supposed to talk to him after marriage? Was she supposed to stay quiet whenever he spoke to her?
If her mother ever found out how she spoke to him yesterday, she would slap her across the face.
Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind. She spoke softly, "Maa, what did father say to you when you first met?"
Her mother's movement stopped for a second, then she resumed her task, replying in an indifferent voice, "I need a son, Gayatri, within one year."
It took her a moment to realize that those words were from her father, not her mother. Just when she thought her father couldn't be more cruel, her mother's words made her rethink everything.
Maya stood frozen, her heart pounding, the words of her mother echoing in her mind. "Respect him." How could she respect someone who had so much control over her life, someone who didn't care about her happiness? She shook her head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they lingered.
As she turned towards the door, her mind already drifting to the meeting with Damian, her heart skipped a beat. Would he really show up with others? Was this how it was going to be?
Before she could finish the thought, there was a knock on the door.
Her heart sank.
Damian stood outside the house, his hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. He knew he had to be careful with her. He had seen the way she looked at him. She wasn't ready, but that didn't matter.
He would make her understand, eventually.
Damian exhaled slowly and got out of the car. As he walked toward the door, he couldn't help but wonder just how long it would take before she realized—he was never going to let her go.