Chapter 6- The Half-blood’s Burden

Before she chose to have second thoughts and tell the men inside that I had been listening in, I rushed out of her sight.

I noticed that the waiters had brought some food out when I got back to the table. An older woman, a couple of years older than Maria, arranged baskets of bread and a bottle of wine in the centre, surrounded by more tattooless faces, including little boys and girls.

Before I ever saw him, I knew it was him when I heard the sound of heavy feet. I sensed the abrupt darkness of his approach as if the room itself had a burdened, gloomy aura. As Damon sat down in the middle of the table, I continued to focus on my plate.

He furiously tossed away an empty glass of wine and groaned, "Where the hell is my Bourbon?" You know I like to have it as soon as I sit, Petunia." The elderly woman hurriedly approached him with a glass half full of dark whisky and one ice cube. He took it from her and had a drink.

Petunia apologised and ran back, showing up again carrying a dish of meat. We dined silently for a while. Just the sound of his breath might have sent me hurtling into the air. I felt so weak and easily broken that I was afraid to breathe in his presence. I still hadn't looked up at him after fifteen minutes.

At last, he muttered something in my direction, asking, "What's wrong with you? Are you broken?"

I looked at him nervously with wide eyes. "What?"

"Good, it speaks," he said, eating huge chunks of rare steak. "Your new name is Ava, and your routine will be to live here until we have a child. After that, you will care for it for the first three years, and then it will go for half-blood training."

"What-"

"As for you, I'm not sure where you will go after the child is gone, perhaps Akbur Hills, or maybe..."

"Stop!" I yanked my fork off the table. His expression was one of bewilderment mixed with rage. It was almost as though nobody had ever bothered to stop him before. I could feel my thoughts repeatedly pushing against my skull.

"My name is Ana, and I am not an object," as my mind began to ache.

"Maybe twelve years ago, before the Downworlders Revelation," he joked, "but today, your worth is less than any object."

As though his words had been a trigger, memories suddenly rushed through my mind. My eyes were welling with tears, and I remembered everything that had transpired that day. When creatures started assaulting all humans, I was only eight years old. They had destroyed towns and cities, leaving thousands of dead bodies in their wake. We had never seen anything like it.

My father and I, as survivors, lived in secret from the evil creatures in a hidden community. Before the wolf-men discovered me.

"What do you want me for, if I'm so worthless?" I lost my voice.

Approximately ten years ago, one of our scientists investigated the extraordinary abilities of one of our werewolves. He was considerably stronger than the rest of us. If we were to defeat the other creatures in the downworld, we needed more wolves like him. It turns out that his father concealed the fact that the wolf's mother was mortal. A human.

These half-bloods are the result of further wolf and mortal hybrid breeding, and they all share this trait."

"Extraordinary abilities," I muttered to myself.

"That is why you are here."

"You plan to use me for breeding purposes?" I'm enraged. "I won't put up with it because it's disgusting."

My veins were boiling with blood. It was irritating to think that they had taken me away from my father in order to insert me into this web of deviant werewolf breeding.

"Where are you planning to go? Or, in your 10 years of sleep, have you forgotten? The downworlders now rule half of the world, made up of wolves and the other half of vampires. In order to destroy the bloodsuckers, we need more hybrids, more half-bloods. Your Kind, Humans, "He spit out the term as if it burned his tongue; they're all in hiding, at werewolf jails, or dead. You will die on any path that takes you outside of those doors."

I wanted to scream, but I had to control myself so he wouldn't see me that way. I knew that he thrived on vulnerability, but I refused to show him that I was scared.

"Where is my father?" I looked down at my lap and asked, "Where is my father?"

"Akbur Hills," he replied, "is a prison for mortals."

"I want to go see him."

With another laugh, Damon finished his drink. Abruptly, he leaned forward and made a loud noise with his chair. He placed his hand under my chin as I shot to my feet. With a firm lift, I felt a throb beneath my neck. Because our faces were so close, I could almost touch his nose with mine.

As his eyes were on my lips, he watched my erratic breathing. With my mouth hanging open, gasping for breath, he met my gaze directly and stated, "Your desires are irrelevant here, little human girl; your sole purpose is to keep my bed warm."

For minutes thereafter, he held onto my chin tightly and prodded his own eyes into mine as if he were challenging me to say anything more.

"You may go back to the room," he replied, finally letting go.

I raised my eyebrows and gave him a hateful expression. I despise him, I thought, and I gave him a gaze as if I wanted to murder him.

My dress slipped down just over my upper thighs as I got to my feet. I raced out of the dining room and back up to his bedroom, feeling his greedy gaze on me and shivering with disgust.