Chapter 6-Aylin

"You going to finally explain to me what the deal is with you and Damon and why you had a shield around your room last night when I came to talk to you?" Azrael says, opening the door to the packhouse for me as we walk towards the dining hall for breakfast after our morning training

I heave a sigh; he'll find out eventually

"He's my mate," I say bluntly

Azrael stops in his tracks, looking at me wide-eyed

"I thought so, but hearing it come from your mouth…" his eyes darken. "Want me to kill him?" he says

He truly would if I said yes, consequences be damned, I snort, shaking my head

"No, he's too vital in this war, and after that honor goes to me. The bastard rejected my rejection." I say with a growl, the hatred in me only growing.

I didn't want to know if he was the one who led the invasion that night…I knew he was there. It would be a new level of fucked up if he was in the castle…I don't care that he "did what he had to do." Not when it affects my people, not when it almost ruined me.

"I knew it when I saw how he reacted to you volunteering yourself to deal with the vampires' beasts, but I was hoping I misread it. How are you, Allie? Seriously?" he says, grabbing my wrists to stop me in my tracks

I shake my head, and he purses his lips, nodding

"What does Dad say?" he asks after a moment

"You know how Father is with mate bonds," I say, frowning, and Azrael sighs but nods again.

"It's a shit situation. I hate to admit it now, but I really don't mind the guy. You know I don't hold back the truth from you; you need help. He and Samirah might be exactly what you need. You've suffered in silence way too-"

"Enough." I snap, trying to walk away, but he pulls me back

"No. You're going to listen to me, stab me after I'm done but listen. You refuse to see a therapist, even though you ordered every single demon affected by the attack that night to do so; you can barely stand to look at anything red, you block out Dad and me, and now you're blocking out your mate."

"It's fucking different, and you know it." I snarl, eyeing his throat, wondering if I can slit his voicebox without hitting a vital vessel and killing him. "Did you not just offer to kill him for me?"

"Yes, and you said no," he says, crossing his arms over his chest

"I told you wh-"

"If you wanted him dead, he would be dead. He and that female hold the same value. She would easily make up for whatever we lost from him if you killed him. That, and in our one hundred and ninety-five years together, I've never once seen you spare anyone you were determined to kill, regardless of the circumstances." he cuts me off. "I was supposed to help Samirah portal over those who wanted to fight from that hiding place of theirs; why not go with us and look around. It's literally catered to help people go through exactly what you did."

I feel my eyes turn black at his words, and I yank my arm away

"I did not go through what they did; I went through an hour of it; some of those women were their sex slaves for weeks, raped countless times. Me, once. It's not the same; they had it worse." I snarl as I walk away

I hear him sigh, and his footsteps swiftly approach me

"Well, you and I are tasked with training them. Damon and Samirah are protective over the ones that are coming, so they will oversee it. Dad will take care of Amara's training the rest of the night, and you can take over her training after breakfast while he helps me portal them over." he says 

"Fine." I snarl. I have nothing against helping them train, but they're not dragging me over to 'The Haven' as Damon called it, like they're forcing me on a seventy-two-hour hold

"I only tell you these things because I don't fucking like watching you suffer. You don't let anyone in to help." 

"I don't need help." I snap. 

I was fine until Damon showed up; the nightmares were infrequent, the mental breakdowns rare, and I didn't even care when I looked Horace in the eyes. Damon fucked it all up; any progress I made was gone. 

Right now, I only need my coffee and some food before I'm on the field for the rest of the day. Of course, completing this perfect morning, Damon is sitting at the breakfast table with Samirah. 

I pause, my heart racing at the sight of him and my body instantly relaxing as his scent, more potent than usual, surrounds me. He damned us both when he didn't accept my rejection; the bond would get stronger every day until he either accepts it or we marked and mated each other, which would not be happening. 

I feel his eyes on me as I fix my coffee and plate, and I have half a mind to eat in another room, but if I'm helping their people train, I need to stay and talk with them. I sit next to Azrael, sipping my coffee while I listen to them talk. 

"We'll head over and grab them after breakfast; the place is remote, so there are no pictures for me to show you, but we can drive there initially and then portal everyone here." Samirah is telling him as I sit

"How long of a drive?" Azrael asks

"Two hours," Damon chimes in

Az groans in response, making me chuckle. He hates driving and avoids it at all costs. He elbows me, and I elbow him back twice as hard, making him curse. 

"What level of training do they have in combat?" I ask, hoping I'm not going to be starting from scratch with them

"They're highly trained and skilled warriors. However, it would benefit them to spend some time learning your fighting style, given that it's so unique. The King said he would happily let them train with your blades." Samirah tells me

I nod. "Very well. I'll train with them in between training my sister. Azrael can fill in when I'm with Amara." 

"Thank you," Damon, who hasn't taken his eyes off me since I walked into this damn room, says.

"I'm not doing it for you," I hiss at him; he only smiles playfully at me in response, eliciting a growl from me

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you want to kill me?" he tells me, completely unbothered by my obvious annoyance

I glare at him, willing the back two legs of his chair to disintegrate. His eyes go wide as he falls back, hits the floor with a thud, and grunts. I go back to sipping my coffee.

"Anyways," Samirah cuts in, glancing down at her friend, who is picking himself up off the floor with a smile plastered on his face. He must be mentally ill. "As you know, we have no idea how much time we have before this battle, so we want to make the training count. They are all very eager and will learn quickly," she says to me warily

"I can imagine," I say, finishing my plate and the last few sips of my coffee. "You can find me on the fields with Amara when they're ready," I tell them as I collect my dishes, put them in the dirty dish bin, and exit.

In honesty, even though they're vampires, I am happy to train these women to kill Silas' armies in the quickest but most painful ways. The idea brings me my own sick satisfaction. Another plus, since I'll be training Amara with her magic today, I won't need to worry about finding Dad or Azrael to spar with after, thankfully.

I look forward to the exhaustion I'll feel later; sleep will come much easier.

After a couple hours, the warriors, mainly female, with a handful of males, arrive. I scan the crowd; most are brutally scarred, not to my surprise, given what they were subjected to. One is missing an eye, and the others have scars covering their arms and necks, some on their faces. I watch Damon pass out their weapons to them; they all seem comfortable in his presence, and he even lingers around, talking to a few. 

As he passes them out, part of me laughs. I never thought there would be a day when I look upon a group of vampires wielding my Underworld blades, let alone the day I stood at the front, training them to master the weapons. I waste no time, though. They all listen hungrily as I explain the basics, a few with wicked smiles on their faces that I return. I'm curious how long they've been waiting for their revenge.

I then call Azrael over to demonstrate a small battle with me. It's a struggle not to use my magic in my movements and combat; I can tell Az has the same problem. I was 102 years old when he was born, so even when we started training together, I still had my magic and used it. The last time I would have fought without magic would have been before it manifested when I was 17, which was a long fucking time ago. 

That said, we still fall into the flow easily, and the vampires watch us before they break into groups of two and go at it. Thankfully, they're quick learners, as Samirah said, so we can move through lessons and techniques quickly, and I don't have to stop and make corrections as often as I expected. 

After a few hours, we take a fifteen minute break. The vampires requiring no hydration had me completely forgetting to stop and drink my own water. I sit on the grass, watching Azrael talk to them, and look around to see what Father and Amara are doing. It looks like he has her working with her ice; she took to her fire element very quickly, ice she didn't seem to like as much. 

I groan when I sense Damon approaching me 

"Are you incapable of taking a hint?" I growl, looking at him as he sits down next to me

"No, I just find myself unable to listen. As I said, you're exquisite when you're murderous, and I love that look on your face, which seems reserved for me," he tells me, looking at my glare and scowl with his insufferable, gorgeous lazy smile. 

"You must be sick in the head" I shake my head at him and look away. 

He's sitting with his knees pulled up and his arms draped lazily over them, giving me a view of his arm and hand tattoos. He has 'love' and 'pain' tattooed across his knuckles; on his right hand, he has a rose, and on the left, he has a skull. My eyes follow up his arms looking at the artwork on them for a second before I rip them away and return my glare to him. 

I must be the only demon in the underworld without a tattoo; even Father and Azrael had them. It's not that I didn't like them or was scared of the pain; I simply had no idea what I would get. There's just nothing I particularly like enough to wear on my skin for eternity.

"Where did you find the time or funds to get all that work done if Silas' kingdom is so poor?" I ask him

"The poverty is an illusion; he has plenty of money. He just likes watching his people suffer, knowing that he could change it in the blink of an eye if he so pleased. That, and it gives him a level of control he wouldn't have otherwise." Damon explains with darkening eyes

Sick. What a sick man. I couldn't imagine letting my people starve and suffer just for the sake of it. I can control them because I wield the power to do so, but even if I didn't, they still respect the royal family enough to follow our will. Do they fear us? Yes. But their loyalty and respect aren't based on that fear. How pathetic, how barbaric Silas must be. 

"But, since you asked nicely, Samirah, the woman of many talents, did most of these. The soldiers tattoo each other. She has a couple small tattoos I did, but she's not big on them. Why don't you have any? Every demon I've ever met was covered in them." he asks, reaching into his pocket and lighting a cigarette

I wonder what the relationship between him and that female consisted of. They probably fucked; why wouldn't they? They're both beautiful and are obviously close. The thought causes red-hot jealousy to course through me. I'm sure she would be better for him in the long run; I'm sure she satisfied him. 

Though I technically wasn't a virgin, my only experience was obviously quite unpleasant, and if that's what sex felt like, then I had no interest in it. I didn't have an interest even before I was raped, and I was an almost 300-year-old virgin, not from a lack of trying on other males and a few females' parts. I simply never enjoyed being touched, a true anomaly amongst demons. I probably couldn't stand to fuck him even if I was normal. Maybe he'll end up with Samirah when he finally accepts my rejection. My eyes must darken because he raises a brow at me before I get up. 

That was enough talking. There, now I can tell Father I gave talking to him civilly a chance, and I still didn't like him. 

Seeing me get up, the others follow me as we return to the battleground. There's still anger coursing through me, and as much as I love fighting with weapons, I need to get my knuckles bloody right now. 

"Put the weapons away. We will do a couple hours of hand-to-hand combat before we return to them," I announce

Azrael comes up next to me, and I watch Damon walk over to Samirah. 

"You, boy. You're with me," I snap at Damon 

I glare at Samirah as her eyes widen, and she hesitantly looks back at him. She's next-

No. No. Stop it, Aylin. You're being petty over something you have no proof of. 

I take a breath to calm myself. Where did this raging jealousy come from? What do I care if they fuck? He really needs to accept my rejection; this bond is getting to me. Still, I can't help the sinking feeling in my gut. She's beautiful, she's strong, she's well trained, and she likely knows how to satisfy him. And what am I? 

I will the thoughts away, emptying my mind as I look back at him. He's grinning like an eager idiot as he approaches me; what is wrong with him? He wants me to kill him. That's the only logical answer. 

"No magic, no weapons. Just hand-to-hand combat," I tell him, my eyes flashing as he stops in front of me and gets into a defensive stance with that aggravating smile

"Feel free to use your magic if you so please, Mea Dea; I won't complain," he whispers. 

I glare, preparing myself for the sparks. I jump at him, sweep my leg under his feet, and drop him on his ass. But he's still a vampire with incredible speed and rolls away just as I lunge for him again, and he is back on his feet. 

I steady myself as we circle each other again. This time he pounces first, aiming with a kick to my side. He may be fast, but I'm faster. I sidestep, slamming my elbow between his shoulder blades as he whisks past me. The force sends him down, and I pounce on him, twisting his arm back. 

At first, I think he will yield, and I'm a little disappointed because I'm not even breathing heavily yet, but he suddenly rolls, effectively throwing me off him. Before I can plan my next move, he's on top of me, pinning my arms by my head and putting all his weight on my thighs so I can't kick him. 

He smiles at me like he's won. I relax my body, acting like I'm going to tap the ground, so he relaxes his hold. When he does just that, I rip my arm out and uppercut him. He goes flying, and I pounce again, slamming his face into the ground, my forearm on the back of his neck and bringing his arm further back, stressing it but not breaking or dislocating it. I brace my foot on his other side in case he tries to flip us again. 

He struggles for a minute before sighing and tapping the ground three times. I get up, brush myself off, and walk away to assess the others who are sparring. I help a couple of them correct minor things here and there, but they are well-trained overall. I let them continue sparring for a few more minutes before I walk back up to the group.

"Alright, finish up your matches. Let's get back to weapons," I announce 

Everyone does as they're told, but the one with a missing eye stands. I think that I heard her name was Marie? 

"Your Majesty, may I request a sparring match with you, hand to hand as well?" she asks boldly 

I raise a brow but admire her willingness to ask, so I oblige. I see blatant interest in several others' eyes and know where this is going. It would be good for me in the long run.

"Anyone else who wants to do so, line up behind her; everyone else can go with Azrael to continue their weapon training," I tell them.

To my utter surprise, at least thirty lined up to spar with me. Well, I guess I'm training my own endurance today too. 

~~~

I'm sprawled out on the ground right next to the rose bush, a light sprinkle of rain cooling me down. I very well may just fall asleep here; I couldn't care less how indecent I look laying here in just a sports bra and tight shorts that are probably ridden up. Individual matches in hand-to-hand combat with fifty-two vampires entirely and utterly exhausted me. I don't think my limbs would move if I even wanted to try; I was jelly, melted jelly…actually, I was something beyond that. 

Between the calming scent of the roses and the cool rain dripping on me, I must fall asleep at some point because I open my eyes when the wind blows Damon's scent into my nostrils. I look up and groan, but that's all I can manage before I slam my head back onto the grass and close my eyes again. At this point, I did this to myself; I knew I needed a new hiding place. 

"I was going to comment on how impressive it was that you were undefeated even after warrior number fifty-two and somehow even managed to walk off the field afterward. However, looking at you now, all I want to do is say karma is a bitch for picking a fight with me. This still hurts, by the way," he says with a chuckle, sitting beside me.

I open my eyes and find him lying on his side, his head resting on his fist. When he meets my eyes, he lifts his chin, showing me he has a beautiful bruise from my uppercut, and my inner monster preens at her handiwork. I only grunt in response and close my eyes again

"Although, it's almost a relief to see that even the Queen herself gets tired. I was beginning to wonder if you were just a robot," he muses, now leaning toward me.

"Oh, how I once loved gardens; now I can't even enjoy them because you insist on coming here and ruining my peace," I mutter; I'm too tired to even try and move away from him. 

"Are you going to tell me why I finally got an entire sentence out of you that was almost civil, just for your hatred to come back with a vengeance?" he asks me

"It never left; I'm just slowly finding out that the meaner I am to you, the more you like me. I'm experimenting with ways to make you leave me alone. Unfortunately, you like me when I'm nice too."

"Mmmm, that's where you're wrong. The more I'm around you in general, the more I like you. Although I will admit, I have a soft spot for how delightfully violent you are." 

"Hades, help me," I grumble. 

"Good luck with that; I've found that the Gods don't answer when I call for them. Sorry to tell you, Mea Dea, no one can save you from me," he tells me

His voice is still lighthearted, but his words cause me to stiffen. I open my eyes and glare at him

"I could kill you. I'm quite adept in saving myself." I warn him

"See, here's what I think. I think if you truly wanted me dead, I would be dead. I think you're affected by this bond the same way I am, and I think you got jealous earlier. I saw you glare at Samirah, and I'm happy to tell you that we have never even entertained that idea. And even if, in some alternate universe, I did attempt, she would beat me over the head with her smut books. She hasn't touched a male since her husband died. Rest assured, my heart and my body belong only to you." 

"You can keep them," I growl; I don't confirm or deny his jealousy statement, despite the relief that courses through me at hearing they've never been intimate. "I'm not immune to the bond; I still feel it. But it's just that, a bond. You're my enemy. We're attracted to each other because of a force beyond our control, not because of any level of attraction by our own free will, and you're forcing me to endure it, hoping it gets strong enough that I won't be able to resist. We're only mated because Selene wanted to watch us suffer," I tell him, and he's quiet for a minute.

He looks at me for a long minute, an emotion I can't quite discern crossing his face. I might regret my words if they weren't the truth when I see that he's clearly hurt, that stupid bond screaming at me to make it better. I resist; there's no sense in giving him anything to cling to. 

"You truly mean that?" he says now, his usual joking arrogance gone

"Yes," I say without missing a beat. I keep my eyes on him, watching the emotions that shatter a part of me cross his face.

This bond has taken too much of a toll on me; a part of me is screaming to take it back, to crawl into his massive tattooed arms and tell him that there was no one else for me, that not even Hades himself could carve me a man from scratch who would be better than him. I don't, though; as I said, it's nothing to do with any desire I have for him of my own free will. Maybe in a better world, a different life, we could have collided as soon as we locked eyes, maybe there would be joy instead of longing that will never know relief, or at the very minimum, maybe I would be able to look at him without being reminded of the worst night of my life. But that wasn't the world we lived in; we lived in this one where everything was all wrong. 

We stare at each other, both lost in our thoughts. I don't know how much time passes before he finally speaks.

"After we win this battle against Silas, I'll accept your rejection," he tells me in a pained voice.

I should rejoice, I should jump for joy, I should tell him to do it right now, but I'm just…numb. I turn onto my side towards him and look him in his red eyes, red eyes that still make my stomach lurch, but I hold my gaze into them anyways. 

"Thank you," I tell him; there is that logical part of me that is relieved to finally be rid of this, but…the bond was left intact for too long. He only made this that much harder on us by not accepting it on the first day. 

"Can I touch you?" he asks, and the sincerity and vulnerability in his voice make my head nod against my will, like my body is determined to make this that much harder for us. 

His hand reaches out, and I tense; he hesitates but continues when I don't protest. His fingers meet the skin on my arm, making pure electricity shoot through my nerve endings. We both jumped, despite knowing it was coming. He runs his fingers up my arm, to my shoulders, then down my exposed sides. In a trance, I watch his hand move as sparks follow in its wake; I notice how he hesitates when his hand raches my throat. When he cups my cheek, I close my eyes and relax into it. 

He leans in and kisses my forehead, rubbing one thumb over my cheekbone before he gets up 

"Whoever you end up with, make sure he knows you're a goddess and worships you. Make sure he knows the things I never had the privilege of knowing about you; I only know that I watched you make your coffee with one cream and one sugar this morning and that you always sit by the roses before any other flower. Make sure he knows more than that. Above all, make sure you're happy, Aylin." He says and walks away.

I want to grab him and jump into his arms, tell him that he's mine and no one else's, that I'll only belong to him, and if I can't belong to him, then I will die alone. But I don't. I let him walk away; I let him leave me here with tears streaming down my face. I couldn't even remember the last time I cried. 

I'm allowed to cry that my mate was only mated to me to mock me, that I was mated to my enemy, that the mate bond my father raved about only turned out to be a disappointment. They say you can't be disappointed if you don't have expectations, but they were wrong. I never wanted or needed a mate, yet here I lay disappointed. A Queen doesn't need a King, and I'm no exception. I don't need him. But right here, right now? I surely want him. 

And I don't know what to do with that.