Delicate

Chapter 59

Damon's P.O.V

"You can have any room you want Mekhi," Will says the second we enter the large house that sat a few acres away from the much larger main house, "if you need anything, just make a call to the main house. There's a landline in every room and the pressing one will make the call."

"Thanks," Mekhi replies but I doubted Will even heard him, he was already heading in the opposite direction. I glance at Mekhi, silently asking him to give us some space before I rush after my mate.

Will moved through the house like it was on fire, turning down random corridors without another word, heading to some destination I couldn't know. I follow closely behind him, forcing myself to stay quiet while he led the way through the fortress that wasn't even the main house.

I knew Will's family was rich and that they'd come from old money, but I'd severely underestimated just how rich they really were, since they were humans. Most werewolves had lots of generational wealth, especially when they came from powerful lineage but for humans, that type of money was reserved for a very small sector of their population.

I had never guessed that Will had come from that sector.

A sector filled with vipers if the interaction between Will and his birth giver was anything to go by - I refused to call that thing his mother.

When Will's mother spoke to him, she sounded like dad did when he was worried about me, like the thought of something happening to me would tear him apart. She sounded like she loved him, like she really loved him, so much so that it was hard to remember that she really didn't.

If Will hadn't warned me beforehand that everything she did and said was all an act, I would've believed it all. And even with his reminder, I still found myself slipping at times while she spoke to Will.

My only constant reminder of that fact was the strain on Will and I's bond since the moment he'd greeted his so-called mother, it'd grown heavy with a deep type of darkness that made me want to shift and run until I had Will as far away from the she-devil as I could physically manage.

He'd warned me that she pretended to care for him but I never imagined that she could play the role so well. Well enough that it made me question Will's words in brief moments which only made my distress grow, I shouldn't ever doubt my mate, and the fact that she could make me upset my spirit deeply.

But worse than that, what hurt the most was realizing that if all she did and said troubled my mind, then it must've been wrecking Will's. How he'd managed to face that, I had no idea.

It had to be excruciating, to face someone who was supposed to love you and know that the only love they gave you wasn't even real.

It took everything inside of me not to cut off the poisonous words by wrapping my hand around her throat and squeezing. I'd be putting an end to the wretched thing that was causing my mate so much pain. But Will said to let him handle it, and I did, but it was far harder to when every word that left her mouth hurt my Will just a little more than the one before it.

Even without the bond, just looking closely at Will when he talked to that woman would tell anyone that he loathed her, and yet on the surface, none of it showed. That's when I realised that he was doing it to, this acting, and he was doing it so well that it unnerved me at points to watch it. The way he'd acted for her was so close to the genuine thing, his genuine easiness, that it was almost scary.

It was like watching them play some game that I couldn't follow along when I didn't know the rules.

I wanted to ask Will about it, to make him stop and talk to me about that messed up conversation and everything else that he'd never told me.