Breed Me, Daddy Alph Chapter 186

Chapter 186: Chapter 186

Lyra

"You’re lying," Tasha said, and her voice didn’t even sound like hers anymore. It cracked halfway through the sentence like it couldn’t hold itself up, and her eyes—fuck, her eyes—were red and glassy and wide and locked onto

like I was the fire that just burned her entire life down. "You’re fucking lying."

And I just stood there.

Drenched. Flushed. Trembling. Wearing nothing but a ruined expression and Damon’s scent all over

like a fucking second skin.

His hand was still on , glued to my waist like a brand, like he was holding

together and also warning the world not to touch.

And I couldn’t say anything. Not because I didn’t want to. Not because I didn’t have words. But because I had too many. They were all trying to co out at once. All choking .

"Say sothing!" she scread, and I flinched a little not that I was scared. This wasn’t the Tasha who did my eyeliner or shared her charger This was a girl who’d just realized her entire world was fake.

Her dad wasn’t the man she thought. And I wasn’t the friend she believed I was. I was the girl who moaned behind her bedroom wall while her father made

scream into his chest. I was the girl who opened her thighs when the house went dark. Well she gotta live with it now.

"Is it true?" she asked, voice lower now but so much sharper, like it could slice

into ribbons if I said the wrong thing. "Did you fuck him?"

I blinked.

And Damon—because of fucking course he would—tightened his grip on my waist and said it first.

"She’s mine," he said, calm as sin, voice low and brutal and final. "She’s not just soone I fucked. She’s my mate."

Tasha froze.

I saw it. The way her chest locked up. The way her jaw twitched. The way her lip curled like she was trying to hold in a scream and a sob at the sa ti. Her hands were shaking, her eyes were wild, and then she turned on

again.

"You didn’t tell ," she said. "You didn’t say anything. You just—what—fucked my dad behind my back like it was normal?"

My throat felt like it was on fire.

"I didn’t an to—Let

explain everything"

"Didn’t an to?!" she snapped. "Oh my God, Lyra, what does that even fucking an?! Did you just trip and land on his cock?!"

I gasped, my whole body flushing, not because she was wrong but because fuck, the way she said it made it worse. I had landed on his cock. Over and over and over again. I had begged for it. Scread for it. Begged him to knot

like I was nothing but his little Oga plaything. And now she was looking at

like I was dirt.

My lips parted, but she wasn’t done.

"Is it because I fucked Marcus?" Tasha’s voice exploded through the room like lightning striking a soaked floor.

Her eyes were wide and bloodshot, her chest rising like her lungs couldn’t decide whether to collapse or scream again.

Her fingers trembled at her sides like she wanted to tear sothing apart—maybe , maybe the entire house.

"Is that why you’ve been riding my dad’s cock like a fucking prize you earned? Because you were mad that I got laid by him?! Is that what this is, Lyra?! So twisted revenge fantasy you cooked up while I was sleeping upstairs?!"

I opened my mouth, but the words stuck in my throat like needles. I wanted to say no. I wanted to scream that it wasn’t like that, that I didn’t plan this, that I didn’t ask for the Moon to give

him, but I couldn’t.

Because every inch of my skin still burned from where Damon touched . Because I could still feel the ache between my thighs from the last ti he knotted . Because I knew, deep down, that nothing I said would matter now.

Tasha’s eyes snapped to

like she could hear my thoughts.

"Oh my fucking God," she spat. "You’re just standing there like you’re the victim while he’s groping you in front of

like it’s normal. Like I’m supposed to just stand here and smile while the girl who shared my bed, my clothes, my life, takes the one man who was never supposed to look at you like that!"

Her voice cracked. Her mascara ran. But her rage? It didn’t stop. It got louder. Sharper. aner.

"You know what? I don’t give a fuck if he’s your mate," she shouted, her voice climbing so high it made my head spin.

"I don’t care if the fucking Moon Goddess herself ca down and tattooed his na on your pussy. I don’t care how sacred, how spiritual, how magical your bond is supposed to be. Because guess what, Lyra? If I walked in here right now and said my mate was a six-year-old boy, what the fuck would you say to that?"

She paused, panting, shaking, hands curled into fists like she was holding herself back from throwing them at .

"That’s exactly how this sounds," she hissed. "You’re eighteen. He’s my dad. Do you hear yourself? Do you know how sick this sounds? You’re letting him fuck you raw and knot you and talk about breeding you like a fucking bitch in heat and you think it’s okay because the Moon said so?"

I couldn’t breathe. My cheeks were wet with tears. My chest was tight. And still—my panties were soaked. My nipples were hard. My cunt was pulsing like I’d just been touched again, and Damon hadn’t even moved. He was standing right behind , hand still warm on my waist, holding

there like a trophy.