Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 172 What else could it be?

Victoria’s POV

"You can’t joke about something like this, Damian." I averted my gaze from his burning stare, my heart hammering against my ribs. I tried to push myself up from the bed, but his powerful arms held me firmly in place. My white wolf, Nora, stirred restlessly within me, seemingly reveling in his presence.

Damian’s smoky cedar scent enveloped me as his midnight-blue eyes darkened to the depth of a moonless sky. "Do you think I’m joking?" His voice carried a dangerous edge that sent chills racing down my spine.

"What else could it be?" I shot back, though my voice trembled slightly. "There’s nothing particularly likable about me. Unless you’re just attracted to my face, which would make you pretty shallow." I tried to sound dismissive, but my wolf howled in protest at my denial.

He leaned closer, his warm breath ghosting across my ear. "Never mind why I like you. You said it yourself—that you feel the same way about me as I feel about you. Doesn’t that mean you love me too, Victoria?"

His piercing gaze swept across my face, as if demanding an answer I wasn’t ready to give. Something in his expression told me this was more than just a game to him. His wolf, Arthur, seemed to peer through Damian’s eyes, watching and waiting.

My tongue felt heavy and useless. "I..." The words simply wouldn’t come.

"So," he pressed, his thumb tracing lazy circles against my wildly pulsing wrist, "how exactly do you feel about me?"

My emotions churned like autumn leaves caught in a hurricane—confusion, attraction, and the paralyzing fear of being hurt again after Ethan’s betrayal. I’d deliberately avoided examining these feelings, terrified of what conclusions I might reach.

Especially since our relationship involved the thorny issue of pack independence.

I desperately wanted to ask how he viewed the situation between our two packs.

But I didn’t dare.

Because I was afraid his answer would be the same as before.

I was terrified of learning a brutal truth.

The phone beside us stopped ringing and went to voicemail, only to start up again seconds later.

"Let me go," I said, my voice steadier than I’d expected. The brief interruption gave me a moment to collect my scattered thoughts.

Damian’s grip loosened slightly, allowing me to reach for my phone. Grace Mitchell’s name flashed across the screen.

"Grace," I answered, grateful for her intervention.

"Victoria? You’re not home this early? Where are you?" Grace’s voice came through clearly. I could practically see her standing in my empty living room, looking puzzled.

"You’re at my place?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Yeah! Brought breakfast and everything," she confirmed cheerfully.

Relief flooded through me. "I’ll be right there!"

I’d found my escape route. In this moment, Grace was my savior.

I turned to Damian, who watched me with those sharp eyes, as if seeing through all my excuses. "My friend’s at my place. I need to go." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

I scrambled off the bed, feeling his laser-focused gaze tracking my every movement.

"Fine," he conceded in that low, steady voice of his. "I’ll give you time to think. I’ll wait for your answer."

Even as I beat my hasty retreat, I noticed he wasn’t being pushy. Damian Sterling wasn’t the type to corner someone needlessly—he preferred letting his prey come to him willingly.

I practically fled home, slamming the door behind me with such force that Grace jumped up from the couch.

"Good God, Victoria!" she exclaimed, nearly spilling her coffee. "What’s gotten into you? You look like you’ve been chased by a rival Alpha!" Her eyes widened as she took in my disheveled appearance. "How did you get here so fast?"

My hair was a mess, my clothes hopelessly wrinkled, and I could only imagine how frazzled I looked. I felt completely exposed and vulnerable.

"Nothing happened!" I gasped, rushing to the kitchen to pour myself a large glass of water, which I drained in one gulp. "Want some water?" I asked, desperate to change the subject.

"I’m fine," Grace replied, studying me like a detective. After a moment, she asked, "You didn’t sleep in your own bed last night, did you?"

"What?" I startled, nearly choking on my second glass of water.

How did she know that?

"Just a hunch," Grace smirked, her wolf-like curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "But look at you—clearly didn’t check a mirror this morning. You don’t look like someone who got dressed to go out, more like someone doing the walk of shame. Plus, I can smell alcohol on you. So spill it. Where were you last night? Did you hook up with some young stud?"

I rolled my eyes at her teasing. "He’s hardly some young hottie—more like aged whiskey. I ran into Damian on my way home, went to his place for drinks. Had too much and accidentally fell asleep."

"So that’s why you went to Damian’s," she said thoughtfully, leaning forward eagerly. "How did things go with that whole situation?"

The question made my cheeks burn. I poured another half glass of water, buying time. "What situation? Nothing happened."

"Bullshit," Grace snorted, her wolf instincts sharp enough to cut through my lie. "Your face is redder than a tomato. Did you two finally confess your feelings for each other?"

"No! I told you, I was drunk!" I protested, unable to meet her eyes. "But..."

"But what?" Grace leaned forward, practically vibrating with excitement. "Don’t leave me hanging!"

I bit my lip, hesitating before admitting, "He said he loves me and asked how I feel about him."

Grace’s expression turned triumphant. "I knew it! And then what?"

"My mind went completely blank. Thank God you called—it gave me an excuse to escape."

Grace dramatically clutched her chest. "You’re telling me my call interrupted your courtship moment? Worst timing ever!"

"No, it was perfect timing!" I insisted. Without Grace’s call, I would have been trapped in that moment, forced to confront feelings I wasn’t ready to face.

"So," Grace settled back against the couch, "how do you feel about Damian?"

I shook my head, genuine confusion washing over me. "I honestly don’t know. It’s complicated."

"How can you not know? You didn’t outright reject him, did you?"

I nodded, remembering how stunned I’d been.

"Exactly!" Grace exclaimed triumphantly. "If you really didn’t like someone, you’d reject them immediately. Hesitation doesn’t mean disinterest—it means you’re overthinking because you’re scared to start something new."

"Grace, stop," I groaned.

"I’m not making this up! If any other guy confessed to you, would you hesitate? If Patrick told you he liked you and wanted to be with you, would you say ’let me think about it’?"

"Absolutely not," I admitted. Patrick had actually confessed yesterday, but I’d rejected him without hesitation. I felt nothing for him.

"See?" Grace’s smile grew brighter. "Face it—you’re already in love with Damian. Looks like after all this time, you still can’t escape falling for a Sterling. Make sure you save me the best seat at your wedding!"