Chapter 3-Damon

I watch her as she practically claws her way out of the room, yet she manages to do it with such grace I’m left in stunned awe. Once she’s out of my sight, my feet follow her, a mind of their own, like an invisible string connecting us. I growl as a guard puts his hand on my shoulder and rips me back before someone speaks, the King of the Underworld-her father. 

“It’s fine; let him go. She’s more dangerous to him than he is to her anyways,” he tells the guard, who reluctantly undoes my chains.

Fuck, I would get defensive if his statement wasn’t entirely true. When I opened my big mouth during that meeting, she looked like she wanted to rip me to shreds with her own two hands and that she would actually enjoy herself while doing it. My own basic sense of self-preservation said it would be a mercy and by far the least painful way to die at her hands. 

As soon as I’m free again, I go to her, needing her near. Does she even feel the bond? How can she stand to walk away? I couldn’t even do something as basic as taking my eyes off of her during that meeting. I wanted to memorize every single part of her and take my time while doing so. 

I pause right before the door; I actually have no idea where I’m going; I’m just following her scent. She smells like freshly roasted coffee and vanilla. I inhale deeply for a minute, collecting my thoughts as I think back.

It was no secret amongst Silas’ men how Horace and his brothers raped her. Even though she killed his two brothers, Horace boasted about it until he was recently captured. I never understood why it made me so profoundly and irrationally angry. Sure, there was always a level of rage when they talked about what they did to women. Still, I had killed several soldiers for just talking about Queen Aylin specifically. I often dreamt of killing Horace myself for it. Now, it makes sense, and I want to bring all three men back to life so I can skin them alive and burn the entire army forever discussing it. 

With all that being said, I had no clue where she was in her recovery, she certainly was doing better than some of the women in the Haven, but that doesn’t mean anything. If her initial outburst was any hint, at best, she hated my kind; at worst, she would reject me and cut my dick off. I would have to do the very opposite of what my instincts were screaming at me to do, which was take her where she stands and mark her as mine. No, I can’t even begin to think about that; I can’t go down that road. 

I take a breath, exit the house, and walk to her. The low growl she lets out as she senses me near doesn’t go unnoticed. Fuck, I can’t stand back like she’s a feral and wounded animal; that would make this worse. I decide if I have to die right here, I wouldn’t mind it so much if it was by her hand, and I walk up to her. My stomach plummets as she steps back; all I want to do is hold her tight enough that she turns into an extension of me; does she really not feel it?

“What can I do to convince you I’m not like them?” I ask her

She doesn’t look at me, and I finally take her all in. She stole the air from my lungs when I saw her that first time before I even knew who she was, and then again when she walked into the room, but here? Up close? She’s ethereal, a Goddess in every right. I finally take her all in, the pale, creamy skin of her face, the hair she has delicately braided, her hourglass figure shown off by the dress she’s wearing, also leaving her muscular yet delicate looking back bare. 

“Nothing. It wouldn’t make a difference,” she says curtly

Her voice is a song sung by the Muses themselves, a song sung to dying soldiers in their final moments to ease their pain-beautiful, devastating. 

I can practically hear her screaming at me to go away in her head. I take my chances and step closer to her, unable to help myself. I can see her shoulders tense, and her jaw clench, but…she doesn’t step away. 

“Hmm. My mate looks at me like she would get great enjoyment out of murdering me, and you say it doesn’t matter?”

I’m completely mesmerized by her; I don’t even realize I reach out a hand to brush a stray piece of hair behind her ear until the sparks that shoot up my arm jolt me back to reality. I’m about to pull away, but she leans ever so slightly into the touch. I smile as I take half a step closer, so she is affected somehow.

“Ah, finally, a reaction. I was wondering if you felt it at all,” I mutter as I run my knuckles down her spine, appreciating her silky skin and completely drunk on the sparks. 

Every part of me screams in delight as I watch her shiver and close her eyes. I don’t remove my hand, going back up and down as her breathing quickens. I’ve already gone too far, I should stop now, but I entirely cross the line when I gently tug her to me. Her brilliant jade eyes fly open, and when they lock with mine, her entire body goes rigid. I immediately remove my hands from her, then she pushes me with unnatural strength, and I fly backward. As soon as she pushes me, she’s gone, literally taken by the wind. 

I lay on the ground for a moment. One, I’m a little disoriented; two, my heart and soul are shattering as I realize she definitely wants to reject me. Am I so selfish that I would reject it? Or is it reasonable that I want to try and win her heart?

I peel myself off the ground, wincing at the ache that settled into my back from her. Yeah, I wouldn’t ever be a match for her. That was fine; it was kind of hot how I was utterly at her mercy, and the moment she decided she wanted me dead, I would be. Does that make me fucked up in the head? Maybe. But, I won’t accept her rejection, not at first. She was worth more than an easy defeat, and I owe it to my own happiness to at least try. Her happiness, too; I could make her happy, love her, and worship her the way my Goddess deserves.

The guard posted outside of my room shoots me a glare as I walk up; I don’t bother glaring back. I can’t blame them for being cautious. Entering my room, I take my shirt and jeans off and crawl into my bed. My thoughts move from Aylin to my own mother and sister, Kaylania. 

They were the whole reason Samirah and I created the Haven. After they were brutally beaten and raped, they were thrown into a field to die. I had placed a glamour on myself, remaining invisible in the bushes until the army had cleared out, leaving them. Samirah caught me sneaking them out, and we hid them in a broken-down shack in a poorly guarded werewolf territory until I found uncharted land and moved them there. 

That was when I first found out Samirah was gathering rebels, and I allied with her instantly, my father following. All three of us were unable to let the women and few men they raped out to die in the death field, so anytime there was someone we could save, we did. We had painstakingly worked on building housing, food, parks, and scenery until enough rebels joined to really make something noteworthy. 

My mother had killed herself shortly after my father died in an attempted attack on the werewolves, my sister following shortly after. They hadn’t lived to see the Haven to completion, hadn’t wanted to. That was something I kept to myself, that I failed in saving them from themselves after all that, that I wasn’t enough to at least keep Mom around. I told everyone they died at the armies’ hands; it seemed better than admitting their own monsters killed them. 

We never had an easy life; in reality, no vampire who lived under the wall did. Most had fought over the somewhat liveable homes-maybe one with heat for those with younger sucklings or running water, or if it was a lucky find, one with intact roofing. We had opted for safety from the desperate over safety from the elements. We picked the most decrepit shelters in town, knowing there was less chance of someone robbing or attacking us. It still happened, especially at the beginning of the month when each family got their blood ration. Then, some dared to venture out of the kingdom to find someone to feed on. They were publicly hung, saying they were so selfish they were willing to lead the fae and wolves to us just for a meal; therefore, they deserved to die.

Unless injured, we only needed to feed to satisfaction once a week. However, the rations of blood each family got were barely enough for one vampire to last the month. Given that we all lived in poverty with no access to a sterility tonic, or the knowledge of even our own basic reproductive biology, many families reproduced quite often, only for their children to starve to death or die in the womb due to the mother’s own starvation. Sucklings were seen as a burden, and my own parents didn’t want Kaylania or me when I was born. However, they eventually warmed up to us when we could care for ourselves. They lost two other sucklings before they were even a year old; both Kaylania and I surviving was a miracle. I didn’t know what a full stomach felt like until I was 202 years old and joined Silas’ armies. 

I joined his army in desperation, we had always managed to successfully hide our blood from the looters, but one month of us getting looted was all it took to nearly end us. Both mother and Kaylania had turned grey and skeletal and were on the brink of death. Dad and I weren’t much better, but we at least remained conscious. When I finally decided we had no other option, I begged Horace to let me join Silas’ army, and he granted my request. 

We had lived in disbelief for the first month when we were given more blood than we had ever seen and a house that seemed like a mansion with running water, plumbing, heating, and intact roof and walls. Still, Kaylania and I shared a room, her on the twin bed and me on the floor, but it was more comfortable than we ever knew. 

The comfort had lasted four months in total before Silas’ top army men drug Mom and Kaylania out by their hair, kicking and screaming. They stayed with their slaves for three weeks, two of the longest-lasting sex slaves they used, until they had mercy on them and tried to end their lives. Then when Dad and I found out what Samirah was trying to do, we joined without a second thought, and I vowed to end Silas. I was always gifted in glamour and combat, so I easily made my way to the top. The fucked up thing was Silas didn’t even know his armies touched my mother and sister. Not in a way that he was unaware of what they were doing, but in the sense that they were just another faceless, nameless set of bodies to use. 

Now, everything both Samirah and I had worked for was coming to light, and even if I died in this upcoming war, it would be worth it. The wolves, demons, and fae were more than capable of winning this war; just to see Silas fall in my last seconds would be enough.

At least it would have been; now I had something to live for, something to fight for, even if she didn’t want me. That was fine, I was used to not being wanted, but maybe I could convince her.