Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 235 Celebrate Damian’s birthday 4

"A gift?" My wolf Nora stirred inside me, curious about what Damien had in mind.

"Mm-hmm. You’ll have to let me go first." I wiggled in Damien’s tight embrace, unable to move freely.

Damien reluctantly loosened his grip but kept one arm protectively around the flowers I’d given him earlier. The tender way he cradled them against his chest made my heart flutter. Those wildflowers meant something to him—my alpha male, who commanded respect across territories, cherishing simple blooms I’d picked.

"Where’s that balloon I gave you earlier?" I asked, holding out my hand. "I need it back."

He passed it to me without hesitation, his smoky cedar scent intensifying with curiosity. I released the air from inside, revealing dozens of small folded notes hidden within. His eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"So this balloon was meant for me all along?" Damien’s voice dropped to that deep rumble that always sent shivers down my spine.

"Of course it was. Don’t tell me you’re just now figuring that out?" I couldn’t help the playful smile tugging at my lips.

Damien ran a hand through his dark hair. "I thought it was yours and I was just holding it for you."

"Seriously?" I laughed. The man who dominated boardrooms and commanded the Blood Moon Pack with ruthless precision could be adorably clueless sometimes. My big bad wolf, confused by a simple birthday surprise.

"Open one," I encouraged, watching his face.

His strong fingers carefully unfolded the first note. His expression shifted from curiosity to something deeper as he read aloud.

"One Forgiveness Card." He picked another. "One Kiss Card." And another. "One ’Grant Damien Any Request’ Card."

He looked up at me, his steel-gray eyes wide with genuine surprise. "Victoria, what is this?"

"Exactly what they say," I explained, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze. "There are thirty cards total—one for each birthday I’ve missed. Each card can be redeemed once. If you ever upset me or do something I’m angry about, you can use a Forgiveness Card. If you want me to do something I’m reluctant to do, you can use a Request Card."

I knew it might seem childish—these little paper promises only valid with me—but I’d struggled to find something meaningful for a man who could buy anything. What do you give someone who lacks nothing material? Something money can’t buy—promises of forgiveness, affection, and compliance.

"Can I use this one now?" Damien held up a Kiss Card between his fingers, his lips curving into that predatory smile that made my wolf purr.

"You don’t need to waste a card for that," I whispered, leaning forward. "Consider this one on the house."

I pressed my lips against his, initiating a deep kiss that sent heat coursing through my veins. I loved taking control like this, loved feeling him momentarily yield to me. Damien remained still, letting me lead, his breathing growing heavier as I explored his mouth with mine.

But wolves—especially alphas—can only remain passive for so long.

His control snapped. With a low growl rumbling in his chest, Damien took command, pressing me back against the giant oak tree. His large hand cupped the back of my neck, angling my head as he deepened the kiss. His tongue claimed my mouth possessively while his free hand gripped my hip, holding me in place.

I lost track of time, lost in the sensation of his lips against mine, our scents mingling in the cool evening air. When we finally separated, I was breathless, my lips tender from his attention.

Damien carefully collected his precious notes, tucking them into his pocket before taking my hand. His thumb traced lazy circles against my skin as we continued exploring the amusement park.

As we walked, I watched his face light up with each new discovery—balloons emblazoned with his name, stickers wishing him happy birthday, and even a coordinated drone light show spelling out birthday wishes in the night sky. I’d planned everything down to the smallest detail, wanting his special day to be perfect.

"You did all this?" he asked, squeezing my hand.

I nodded, warmth spreading through me at his obvious delight. Since we’d become mates, I’d witnessed a transformation in Damien—the cold, ruthless businessman giving way to moments of genuine joy and vulnerability. Only I got to see this side of him, and it made my wolf Nora preen with satisfaction.

By the time we left the park, it was past one in the morning. Damien drove us home, unaware that there was one more surprise waiting.

When we stepped into our sprawling estate, a small figure darted toward us. Our three-year-old son Brayden held up a lopsided cake with wobbly blue frosting.

"Happy birthday, Daddy!" he exclaimed, his little face glowing with pride.

The cake was... well, it looked nothing like the professional creations from any bakery. The frosting was uneven, the decorations crude, but it radiated love in every imperfect detail. Brayden had clearly made it himself, probably with some help from our housekeeper.

Damien’s expression softened instantly. He carefully set down the flowers and notes I’d given him before kneeling to accept the cake from our son.

"Thank you, pup," he said softly, ruffling Brayden’s dark hair—an exact miniature version of his own.

At just three years old, Brayden already exhibited that same quiet intensity as his father. While other children his age played with trucks and blocks, our son insisted on "helping" in the kitchen, determined to make his father’s birthday cake himself.

Damien placed the cake on the coffee table and pulled Brayden into his lap as he sat down. I joined them, forming our little family circle.

"We’ll sing to you, then you make a wish," I instructed, stroking Damien’s arm.

"Perfect," he agreed, closing his eyes.

I began singing, my voice joined by Brayden’s sweet, childish tones. The house lights dimmed, leaving only the soft glow of birthday candles flickering across Damien’s handsome features. In that moment, watching him surrounded by candlelight with our son in his arms, my heart swelled with emotion. My mate. My family. My world.

When we finished singing, Damien remained still for several seconds, eyes closed in silent wishing. Whatever he wished for, I hoped it would come true. After everything we’d been through—the betrayals, the pain, the fighting—we deserved this happiness.

Finally, he opened his eyes and blew out the candles in one breath.

We shared the cake, which tasted surprisingly good despite its appearance. Damien complimented Brayden repeatedly, his pride evident in every word.

"Daddy, look out!" Brayden suddenly shouted, launching a glob of frosting that landed squarely on Damien’s cheek.

"Daddy’s a spotted wolf now, Mommy, look!" Brayden giggled, pointing at his handiwork.

I couldn’t help laughing at the sight of the powerful Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack sitting there with blue frosting dripping down his face. "You look ridiculous," I managed between laughs.

"Is that so?" Damien’s eyes narrowed playfully. "How ridiculous exactly?"

"Extremely," I confirmed, still laughing.

Before I could react, Damien lunged forward, rubbing his frosting-covered face against mine, then doing the same to Brayden. Cool, sweet frosting smeared across my skin.

"There," he announced triumphantly. "Now we’re all spotted wolves together."

"That’s so childish," I protested, wiping at my cheek.

"You’re only just noticing?" Damien smirked. "I blame you and our son for corrupting me."

The playful frosting battle continued until Brayden began to yawn, his little body finally surrendering to exhaustion. He curled up in Damien’s arms, eyelids drooping.

Damien carried our son to his bedroom, tucking him in with tender care that still surprised me sometimes. When he returned to the living room, his eyes had darkened with a different kind of hunger.

"Victoria..." My name came out as a growl, the way it always did when he wanted me.

One look at his expression told me exactly what was on his mind. My wolf Nora responded immediately, my body warming in anticipation.

"Don’t even think about it," I warned, though my racing pulse betrayed me. "We just did this last night."

"But it’s my birthday," he countered, stalking toward me like the predator he was. "Or at least it is for another..." he glanced at his watch, "forty-five minutes."

"Almost midnight. That means it’s practically tomorrow already," I argued weakly, backing away.

"Almost isn’t the same as actually being tomorrow," Damien pointed out, closing the distance between us. "We still have time to celebrate properly."

Before I could formulate another protest, he scooped me into his arms the same way he’d carried Brayden—except the look in his eyes was anything but paternal.

"Put me down!" I demanded, though my body was already responding to his touch, my scent likely giving away my arousal.

"No," he said simply. "I think I’ll use one of my cards now."

"You only have thirty, you know," I reminded him. "Are you sure you want to waste one tonight?"

Damien tossed me onto our king-sized bed, following me down with predatory grace. His body covered mine, his scent enveloping me as his lips brushed against my ear.

"Carpe noctem, mate," he whispered, his hands already working at my clothes.

I gasped as his fingers found bare skin, and all thoughts of resistance melted away under his touch. His birthday celebration was about to continue well into the night.