Damon was still in bed three days later and the horrible strain in Scar 's chest lessened somewhat at the sight of him, and with a deep breath, she wiped away the tears pooling in her eyes and pulled up the nearest chair to sit by the bed. She watched him as he slept, guilt and worry gnawing at her from the inside out. Was this her fault? After all, Damon had fought so well for her, for the future that they both wanted. And now he was injured, while she'd been kept away from the battle and made it out unscathed. Should she have fought harder to be by his side? Could she have made a difference if she'd been there to help him with Stanley , or would she have made the whole fight worse? It seemed that every decision she made had somehow led to this moment, and she wondered if she should have acted differently. But how could she have known that the enemy would be so dangerous? Or that the war would become so bloody? Nevertheless, Scar resolved to stay by Damon 's side. She would be
"Will you lead the way?" They climbed down from the horse, and Scar assessed the trees around them. The earth was iced over with frost, ferns and plants captured in a thin layer of chill that would disperse as the sun rose. Pines towered above them in all directions, not unlike those surrounding the goblin fortress and settlement farther north. But these trees smelled of home, and a longing to see the old houses of her hometown surged when she realized where they were. Scar 's feet carried her forward of her own accord, and until that moment, she hadn't realized just how much she'd missed this forest and the small town she'd grown up in. Despite how resentment had fester bed in her heart and soul these past years, it was still her home. The wolves here were still her pack, her family, whether she liked it or not."Come on, I am going to see my family, it's all about alliance please " Scar called behind her at Shadow who looked at her in shock "You lied to me Scar, you intended to go
While Alexander assembled his council to come to a decision, Scar and Shadow were left to their own devices. Being home brought back so many memories, the narrow streets where she and Seath used to explore, the small shop where they would buy sweets, and the forest beyond the city where they would go on adventures. It all felt like a lifetime ago, growing up here ... their attempt to escape. Scar wandered the streets, lost in thought, the events of the past week weighing heavily on her mind. It was hard enough to balance her duty to her pack with her duty to Damon and the wolves , but now she had to worry about this rebel threat as well. She didn't know how much more she could take. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped. Turning around, she saw that it was only Shadow . "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he said sheepishly. She'd forgotten he was there with her, watching her every move. "It's okay," Scar replied, barely able to muster a smile. "I was just
Damon jolted up in bed, sweat covering every inch of pale skin. Gasping, he clutched his chest, feeling as though his heart was being ripped out. Everything hurt, but looked healed, every part of him battered and bruised from the fight with the rebels, not to mention the nasty cut on his side that he was lucky didn't slice out a kidney or worse. But the pain he felt right now wasn't physical; it was spiritual. Soul-wrenching. Something was horribly wrong. Glancing to the side, there was no one in the room. Hadn't he looked up just hours ago and seen Scar at his side, dozing off in an uncomfortable position in her chair because she'd been too stubborn to leave him to go sleep in another bed. Loyal to a fault, she was. So where was Scar now? His sweat felt like little beads of ice on his skin when he noticed the envelope on the stool Scar had been sitting on. He reached over and grabbed it, finding that the outside said 'Damon' in neat cursive. He didn't know what Scar's hand
"I suppose I just never found the right person, and my father was very protective of me " Scar replied, taking another sip of her wine. "We witches , we're ... we're meant to be with our mates, not jumping from relationship to relationship. At least, that never felt right to me." Quiet knowing filled Damon's cool eyes. Just like that, he understood what she'd given up to become his person : a chance at ever finding her mate. "I'm sorry. That must have been very difficult for you." Scar shrugged, not trusting herself to speak. It had been difficult, but it wasn't like she chose to go her life without her mate. If it were up to her, just like any other witch, she would have liked to have her mate when she was young so she could enjoy her whole life with him. This was the life she'd been given, and now she had to make the best of it, even if that meant for a man a man she would sooner destroy for keeping her prisoner and threatening her pack than show any emotion for. "Thank you f
Each movement was instinctual, primed by a need so fierce and desperate she couldn't put a name to it. All there was the need, the fire that burned so bright inside them both, where once, they'd both been so cold and alone. Damon found just the right angle to drive them both wild with pleasure. They moved together until Scar was so close to the edge that it was all she could do to hold on for dear life. He rocked into her, faster and harder until they both reached the precipice of rapture together. There, they teetered on the edge of ecstasy, riding the crescendo together until they finally crashed into sweet oblivion. As the waves of their orgasm slammed into them, Scar felt like she had found something that had been missing within herself, though she was far too exhausted, too spent to shape that realization into words, let alone comprehend what it might mean. They rocked in unison as they lost themselves in the throes of pleasure. Scar knew that this night would change everyth
While Damon slept , Scar had left Damon in bed . She hesitated at the edge of the woods, his hunting bow in hand. The polished wood was familiar under her fingers, a supple curve that had served Damon well for years. Still, she stroked it nervously with the pad of her thumb as she looked into that dense thicket of trees. It was uncanny how shadows seemed to creep from beneath those branches. Even with the sun warm on her back, she shivered. There was no choice but to step into that forbidding place. She knew it, and yet she couldn’t quite bring her feet to move- her sturdy leather boots stayed planted on the pale, spring-green grass like she’d grown roots. It had been a hard winter. She’d gotten skinny during the frozen months, and if she wanted to keep herself in coin and bread, she had to bring in game. She needed space to know the extent of her powers space too away from the goblins and wolves. This black, dark forest was the last place they might be. People avoided it on prin
He brought her to a house. There wasn’t much to differentiate it from the others; it was small, and built from a mix of clay brick and grey-weathered wooden panels supporting a thick thatch roof. The skinny pillars supporting the threshold were carved into stylized wolves, their jaws wide open. She felt tiny between the two men, and even inside the simple house there was something off about the scale. It was built for shapes that were larger than human. The doorways were wide and ceilings were high, and Scar could imagine the hulking shape of Damon in wolf-skin curled in front of the hearth like some monstrous hunting dog. Despite its larger scale, the house wasn’t big. There was no real kitchen besides an empty pot hanging over the hearth, which made sense, he supposed, considering the communal meal they’d left. Two smaller rooms led off from that main area, and as he was led into one, he stiffened. It was obviously a bedroom. A low platform sat against one wall, he