Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 232 Celebrate Damian’s birthday 1

Victoria’s POV

Three years. Three incredible years of marriage to Damien Sterling, and every day I felt more connected to him than the day before.

We had our grand wedding during our second year of marriage, choosing the same date we’d signed our marriage certificate. It was beyond extravagant—a celebration that sent ripples across the supernatural world. The union of the Blood Moon Pack’s Alpha and the Crescent Dawn Pack’s heir was nothing short of legendary.

Marriage with Damien proved everything I’d hoped for and more. I’d anticipated some friction—that’s just life, after all—but Damien consistently surprised me. Even when I was clearly in the wrong, he would shoulder the blame himself. "My mate is never wrong," he’d say with that devastating smile of his.

Today marked our third anniversary. Through our mate bond, I could sense Damien planning something special—he wanted us to have time alone, just the two of us. We desperately needed it. Between pack responsibilities and our little disruption, we hadn’t properly celebrated in far too long.

That "disruption" was our son, Brett Lancaster. At three years old, he was a bundle of energy and mischief that kept us constantly on our toes. While other children his age played with toy trains or action figures, Brett preferred dismantling handguns and taking apart computers.

The toy gun had been a gift from Howard Reiner, Alpha of the notorious Viper Pack. I’d nearly had a panic attack when I first saw Brett playing with it, fearing it might discharge accidentally, but Howard had assured me it was merely a toy meant to teach Brett about self-protection from an early age. Still, the sight of my toddler dismantling weapons made my wolf, Nora, bristle with both pride and concern.

Brett was genuinely brilliant. He’d take apart electronic devices, study their components, and reassemble them with fascination gleaming in his eyes. Damien would watch him with undisguised pride, constantly boasting, "That’s my son—born with a natural genius."

But Brett’s brilliance came with complications for our marriage. At three years old, he still insisted on sleeping between us, clinging to me throughout the night. Damien found this particularly frustrating.

"He’s my mate," Damien had growled into my ear one night, his hand possessively resting on my hip. "And I can barely touch her without waking the entire pack."

Whenever we attempted anything intimate, we had to be quick and quiet. Damien had tried moving Brett to another room, but our son would wake disoriented and cry for me. His wolf pup instincts were strong—he needed to be near the pack’s dominant female. If Damien and I tried sneaking to another room instead, Brett would inevitably wake and search for me, his distressed howls echoing through the house.

This situation drove my mate absolutely crazy with frustration.

Last year on our anniversary, Brett had fallen ill with a fever. All of Damien’s elaborate plans had been scrapped as we stayed home, taking turns pressing cool cloths to our son’s forehead. Damien hadn’t complained—not once—but I had sensed his disappointment through our bond.

Today, however, I decided to take matters into my own hands. While Damien thought it was just an ordinary day, I had arranged for Brett to spend the night with Kane and Elena, my trusted assistants. At midnight, I’d carried our sleeping son to the adjacent bedroom and instructed the nanny to watch over him.

Then I’d returned to our bed, where I’d wrapped myself around Damien’s muscular form, my intentions anything but subtle. My wolf was practically purring with anticipation.

"Victoria," he’d murmured against my lips, his voice thick with desire. "You seem different tonight."

I traced my fingers down his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath my touch. "Different how?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"More... aggressive." His eyes darkened as I straddled him. "Not that I’m complaining."

"Do you like it?" I whispered, nipping at his earlobe, breathing in his intoxicating scent of smoky cedar and midnight roses that always drove my wolf wild.

He nodded, his hands gripping my hips possessively. "I love you, Victoria. Every version of you."

Despite three years of marriage and a child, Damien’s devotion had never wavered. The intensity of his gaze still made my breath catch in my throat.

"Show me," I challenged, grinding against him. "Show me how much you love me, Mr. Sterling. And don’t you dare stop tonight."

His eyes flashed with that primal amber light—his wolf, Arthur, coming to the surface. "What did you call me?"

I leaned close, my lips brushing against his ear. "Husband," I purred.

That single word broke whatever restraint he’d been clinging to. His growl reverberated through my body as he flipped me onto my back, pinning my wrists above my head.

"Your husband isn’t stopping tonight," he promised, his voice rough with desire. "We’re going to use everything in that drawer before sunrise."

I quickly realized I’d made a tactical error in challenging him. Damien Sterling was a man—and wolf—of his word. He used his mouth, his hands, his entire body to worship mine, drawing out pleasure I didn’t know was possible. True to his promise, every toy, every bottle of scented oil in our bedside drawer found its purpose that night. When he finally allowed me to rest near dawn, my body humming with satisfaction, I couldn’t form coherent thoughts, let alone move.

"Mine," he’d whispered against my neck, licking over his claiming mark before finally allowing sleep to claim us both.

The next morning came much too soon. I woke to an empty bed and the sound of the shower running. By the time I managed to drag myself upright, wincing at the delicious soreness between my thighs, Damien had already dressed for work. He looked unreasonably handsome and refreshed, while I felt thoroughly debauched.

"You’re going to work?" I asked, my voice still husky from the night before.

"Blood Moon business," he replied, leaning down to kiss me. "Can’t be helped. I’ll be home early."

I had planned a special evening to make up for our missed anniversary celebration last year, and now I worried I might not be able to pull it off. Damien probably didn’t even remember what day it was—to him, it was likely just an ordinary Tuesday.

After he left, I texted him: "Come home early. I want you to take me shopping tonight."

His reply came seconds later: "Anything for you."

I spent the day pampering myself, my legs still slightly wobbly from our nighttime activities. Sitting at my vanity, I applied makeup with careful precision, highlighting my eyes and choosing a lipstick I knew drove Damien wild. I selected a dark blue dress that hugged my curves perfectly—a color that reminded me of Damien’s eyes when his wolf was just beneath the surface.

I asked Damien to meet me at Moonlight, an upscale restaurant known for its romantic atmosphere and discretion when hosting supernatural clientele. When he arrived, his eyes widened appreciatively as they swept over me.

"Victoria," he breathed, his nostrils flaring slightly as he caught my scent. "You look absolutely stunning. What’s the special occasion?"

"Didn’t I mention shopping?" I teased, watching his reaction carefully.

He frowned, his brow furrowing as he slid into the seat across from me. "You’re dressed like this for shopping? Not that I’m complaining—but anyone would think you’re headed to a date." His eyes narrowed slightly. "We are alone, right? No other males I need to chase off?"

I laughed, feeling the familiar warmth spread through me at his possessiveness. "Would you like me to invite someone else? I could call Kane if you’re feeling lonely."

"Hell no," he growled, reaching across the table to take my hand. "I want you all to myself tonight."

"Then it’s just us," I confirmed, squeezing his fingers.

He glanced around, suddenly looking confused. "Where’s Brett? Did you leave him with Elena?"

I smiled, enjoying the moment. "What kind of date night would include our son? Unless you’d prefer his company to mine?"

"Are you kidding?" Damien laughed, but his eyes remained puzzled. "I just thought you might miss him. You two are practically inseparable."

"I’m perfectly capable of spending one evening away from our son," I replied with mock indignation. "I’m quite independent, you know."

Damien studied me with increasing suspicion. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to decipher my behavior. What special occasion had he forgotten? It wasn’t our wedding anniversary, which we’d celebrated just weeks ago. It wasn’t Valentine’s Day. Perhaps I simply wanted a night out?

"Have you ordered yet?" he asked, still looking slightly bewildered.

I nodded. "Everything’s taken care of. The food should arrive shortly."

"Are we celebrating something?" he finally asked directly, his fingers drumming nervously against the tablecloth. "What’s today’s date?"

I smiled mysteriously, enjoying his confusion. "Does there have to be a special occasion for me to want dinner with my mate? Maybe I just wanted to eat somewhere nice."

I wasn’t ready to reveal my surprise just yet. Let him wonder a little longer.