Strange Heat and Silver Eyes:

🖤 Chapter Four: Strange Heat and Silver Eyes

Aria jolted awake in the middle of the night.

Sweat clung to her skin. Her blouse stuck to her chest. The sheets were a tangled mess around her legs. She was burning—like something wild was clawing through her veins.

Her wrist was glowing again.

The mark pulsed softly, lighting up her dark room in the Blackwood estate’s guest wing. It looked almost… alive. It throbbed in time with her heartbeat, and worse, it hummed whenever she thought of Damon.

She sat up, pressing her fingers against it, trying to calm the fire spreading inside her chest.

But it wasn’t just heat.

It was hunger.

For something… or someone.

She shivered, even though the room was warm.

Then she heard it.

Footsteps.

Steady, controlled, but heavy—like they didn’t belong to a man but to something more. She tiptoed to the door and opened it just enough to peek into the hallway.

And there he was.

Damon Blackwood.

Shirtless. Barefoot. Pacing the marble floor like a caged predator. His muscles flexed with every movement. His jaw was clenched. His body tensed like he was fighting something inside himself.

She should’ve turned away.

But she watched him.

And then he stopped. Dead still.

His head turned—slowly—until his silver eyes locked onto hers through the darkness.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was rougher than usual, deeper. Almost inhuman.

Aria’s breath caught. She opened the door wider.

“You’re pacing,” she said quietly.

He turned fully to face her, and in the moonlight, his eyes glowed.

Not a trick of the light. Not reflection.

Real.

Silver. Luminous. Terrifying.

“Damon…” Her voice was barely a whisper. “What’s happening to me?”

He walked toward her. Slow. Controlled. Dangerous.

“You feel hot. Angry. Sensitive to smells, sounds, emotions.”

She nodded.

He stopped a foot in front of her.

“Your bloodline is waking. It’s not human. And neither is mine.”

She trembled. “Then what are we?”

He didn’t answer with words.

He reached out and ran the back of his hand down her cheek.

She gasped.

His touch burned, but it didn’t hurt. It called something inside her. Something she didn’t understand.

“Your mark is reacting to me,” he said. “It’s a bond.”

“A bond?” she echoed.

He hesitated. “Our souls recognize each other.”

She swallowed. “Are you saying we’re… fated?”

Damon’s eyes darkened. His jaw tightened like he hated the word.

Then suddenly, he stepped back.

“This changes nothing,” he said coldly. “The contract still stands.”

Aria blinked. “You just said we’re bonded—”

“Don’t confuse instinct with affection,” he snapped. “You are a complication I didn’t plan for. I married you to protect the pack. That’s all.”

She flinched. “You’re still hiding something.”

He said nothing.

Just turned his back and walked away.

Later that night, Aria dreamed of wolves.

Running through a burning forest.

A woman with silver hair holding a baby wrapped in a cloak.

A mark glowing against the child’s wrist.

And a voice… echoing through the fire:

“When the Moonblood awakens, so will the curse.”

She woke with a gasp, her hand flying to her wrist.

The mark was glowing brighter than ever.

Something inside her had been triggered.

And Damon knew more than he was saying.

Q:“When the pack sees her as weak, will he protect her… or destroy her?”

A: “One growl from him silenced them all—but it wasn’t mercy, it was possession.😍

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