The Valentine Brothers II

"Monster?" Damon echoed after me, a ghost of a smile hanging from his lips. He allowed the weapon to fall to the ground with a sharp clatter before stepping right over Lydia's body, treating her as nothing more than a part of the rubble and debris. "My dear, you can only imagine."

The pebbles crunched beneath his feet. Around us, I could still hear the symphony of chaos unceasing. There were screams of terror and war cries coming from every direction. Blood bathed the streets of the pack territory, covering it with more red than I had ever seen before in my life.

"Don't be mistaken, my little rabbit, I am no angel." 

He knelt down on one knee, running the back of his index finger down my cheek. Every inch he touched was scorched as though it was set on fire. It was strange― the sensation was pleasant and comforting but knowing who it came from, it only made my skin crawl with disgust.

It was only when he withdrew his hand had I realized that I had been crying.

"She was my friend," I said, my voice raspy and breathless. "You killed my only friend."

"Friend?" The laugh that left Damon's lips had no hint of joy or humor. It was every bit mocking. "There are no such things as friends in this world. Only allies and enemies. She might be an ally now but if she lives, there might be a day whereby she becomes the bane of your existence."

"I wouldn't know now, would I?" I retorted between tears. My eyes darted to where Lydia lay, still and unmoving.

"Better by my hand than yours, bunny," was all he said. He stood to his feet. "Come. We leave for home."

He kept silent, his gaze fixated far off into the distance. There was nothing in the direction he was looking at, so I merely assumed that he must be communicating through his pack's link. 

A few seconds passed before the screaming and crying stopped. It felt as though the entire world had turned silent with just one command. The amount of power this man had was nothing short of terrifying.

There was no way I could be with such a man― he could make even demons cower in fear.

"I am not coming with you," I said. "Kill me if you must."

"Of course you are," he said. If it weren't for the circumstances, I would've thought he was being playful. "You are my mate."

"Then I reject you."

The moment those words were spoken, I instantly regretted them. Damon's expression darkened in a split second, the light in his eyes snuffed out and replaced by a storm. It eclipsed whatever electric glow he previously had. Even the air felt a few degrees cooler than before.

"What did you just say?"

"I said, I reject you," I repeated. There was no going back now. He had definitely heard it the first time around and there was no point dancing around in circles. "I, Harper Gray, reject you, Damon Valentine, as my―"

I never got the chance to finish speaking.

Damon's hand clamped against my mouth faster than an eye could blink. He forced the words back into my mouth, rendering me unable to move. Effortlessly, he had raised me up until I was back on my two feet again― only this time, I was on the tips of my toes, struggling to hold my own body weight up.

He had me dangling quite literally by his grip and I clawed futilely at his hand. My strength, however, was clearly no match for him.

"Rejection overruled," he leisurely said. Yet, the casualty of his tone did nothing to hide the menace and insanity that brewed and swirled within his eyes. "Who do you think you are to reject me?"

That was the thing. I wasn't anyone special, no one he should take mind of. There was no reason why he should stay so hung up over me when he could very easily set me free and find other better women to take my place.

Surely women like Aubrey would be a better fit. They were both lunatics who were hungry for power. The Moon Goddess must've made a mistake pairing me with him.

"Let's get one thing straight, little rabbit, there is no way you will be able to leave my side while I am still breathing. If I hear one more word about it from you, I will break your legs and tie you to the bed. Got that?" A low growl ripped from him, eliciting a whimper from me. 

Tears had already started to stream down my face, a mixture of pain and fear. I couldn't stay with him. If I did, it would be a fate worse than death.

I had to escape. I had to―

Only, my plans hadn't even begun to bud when it was quickly stamped back down. I felt a harsh blow to the back of my neck and the next thing I knew, it was darkness that greeted me.

***

My head felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds. It was still throbbing with pain, the back of my neck aching sorely from where I had been hit.

Hit. That's right, I had nearly forgotten in my haze.

Damon Valentine had attacked the pack and he, of all people in this horrible world, had been my mate. Yet, where was he now?

The room smelled like him. It didn't take a werewolf's nose to sniff that one out. I could smell the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the room, the same musky, woody scent that he had under the layers of blood and grime. 

I sat up in bed, looking around to get a better look at my current situation. However, there was a burn on my wrists, causing me to hiss in pain as I looked down. Metal cuffs and chains had been attached to my hands. They were way too tight, leaving red, irritated marks on my skin when it pulled and tugged on my arm.

"That damned bastard," I cursed under my breath. He was trying to keep me as a caged bird!

"Who are you talking about?"

The voice caused me to look up in shock. I hadn't seen anyone else in the room when I first woke up.

A man slowly stepped out of the shadows, and the moment he did, I realized that the cologne I had been smelling didn't come from Damon Valentine after all, but from the man who stood before me. Only, he had nearly the exact same features, handsome as the man who was my mate. The only difference was that he did not have the same jarring scar on Damon's face.

Only… this man… It was difficult to believe it but I could feel the same pull towards him as I did with Damon.

"Who are you?" The question slipped from my lips before I could stop myself. 

The man merely smiled, dashing and debonair, but just like Damon, that grin had no warmth.

"It seems like Damon brought a new toy home. How fun," he mused. "Hello there, little bird. Allow me to apologize for my brother's manhandling. He isn't very great with women."

I sucked in a harsh gasp of cold air.

"Blaise Valentine," he introduced, "at your service."