Chapter 7- The War

I had taken a second shower and changed into a satin set of sleepwear. Even later, I could still feel the crawling sensation on my skin. Half-memories flashed through my mind, the topics those men had discussed at the meeting, and above all, Akbur Hills.

My father was in what Damon had described as a human prison. The thought that he might still be alive made my heart thud. If I could have him live here with me for at least a few years, then this fate wouldn't be so horrible. We can run away and locate another community until Damon decides I'm no longer useful.

A headache started to creep in, and I had to close my eyes to see flashes of my former existence. This time, behind a decrepit shack, it was a woman preparing bread. Several villagers lined up to exchange items with the woman, including clothes, extra food, and cleaning supplies. The woman was Maria. She was from my village, so I assumed that's why she recognized me.

My poor father, who must be 65 years old now, was rotting in a jail cell when I was here, eating steak for dinner while I was sleeping on the softest cotton sheets. I sobbed into my pillow over the memories I could not remember. I sobbed because my mother had perished in the Downworlder Revolutionary War. It seemed as though a decade had suddenly hit me, shattered into fragmented, 10-second flashes of recollections.

I hoped Damon wouldn't return, but I waited for him that night. Damon's very concept was evil and caused me to feel deeply depressed. While the time seemed to have stopped, I remained alone in bed, going from nine o'clock at night until fifteen past two in the morning.

Every sound this mansion made sent a chill down my spine, and I was powerless to stop it. When will he come up and take me, I kept asking myself.

By the time Damon came back, I had barely slept at all. When he'd come in, I closed my eyes as tightly as possible. Because the room was sufficiently dark, I could let my eyelids drift while studying his activities.

In the middle, Damon began tearing off a black button-up shirt, leaving him completely shirtless. He went to his boxers and then his pants. He mumbled something beneath his breath and appeared to momentarily lose his footing.

Is he drunk?

A whiff of alcohol found its way through almost instantly, and I had my answer.

His enormous biceps were larger than my thighs, and his figure was genuinely built to resemble a deity. His v-shaped belly resembled a shredded six-pack, with thick veins running down his shoulders and chest. He slid off his boxers to display an even more amazing member, and I bit my lip in anticipation and shame.

After covering his body with a towel, Damon vanished into the restroom. After a few minutes of hearing the water run, I wondered if he slept naked. I pressed myself even closer to the bed, crossing my legs. Even though I could not see anything, I felt him fall onto the bed.

I was not ready, so please, not tonight, I thought to myself.

Damon stepped forward and into close enough proximity for me to smell the body wash on him. It smelt just as good as the towel I had scented before. I fought the want to cringe as the heat from his naked arm pressed against my skin. Once more, I felt his firm thumb beneath my chin, and I closed my eyes even as he pressed my face against his. He gazed at me for a minute or two, and even with my eyes closed, I could still feel his panting breathing and detect the scent of bourbon on his tongue.

Damon suddenly and forcibly dug his face into the nape of my neck. I felt like pushing him away, but I was afraid that would set him off even more. I felt his weight against my naked shoulders, his hard chest, and the heat of his skin burning like mine while I waited for him to make another move. For several minutes afterwards, Damon kept inhaling my scent.

At last, he drew away and turned to face the opposite side of the room, falling asleep deeply drunk. I sighed shakily in relief, wondering what would happen tomorrow after tonight's stroke of luck.

The following morning, I woke up to a stretch that felt like I hadn't moved in ten years. Despite Damon's absence, his scent lingered, and the bed to my left remained empty. When I began to feel queasy in my stomach, I headed downstairs to look for food.

I ended up exploring after getting lost, which was simple to do in such a magnificent place. A half-dozen costly cars, two kitchens, nearly a dozen guest bedrooms and baths, and a meeting room where I had eavesdropped the night before were among the things I found. I remembered them discussing Damon's father's corpse. I worried about how Damon was handling his father's loss and realized that the funeral had to happen tomorrow. It seems that vampires killed him.

The memory of how a vampire appeared made me shudder. These monsters lacked empathy and were ruthless, with wide, hollow features adorned with purple and blue veins and crimson eye sockets. I tried to remember if a vampire had killed my mother.

I found the majority of the crew in the kitchen by accident. As soon as Mary saw me, she became concerned and stopped putting dishes away.

"Did you...sleep alright?" When she paused, I immediately realized what her true inquiry was.

Have you had sex with the alpha yet?

"He was intoxicated; it didn't happen. He went to sleep," I said, and she appeared appreciative.

She threw me back to reveal my shoulders to her, "Yes, you look alright. I can tell, you're not bruised or anything. Turn around."

Bruised? Is Damon truly that harsh?

"Are you hungry?" she asked again, "I'm going to make you some breakfast."

She fried the bacon and cracked two eggs in a hurry. Now that I knew exactly who Maria was, I had questions for her.

I said, "I have a question."

Though unsure, she gave a nod.

"I remember you now, my memories have been coming back slowly, You used to bake bread at the village, where the survivors hid."

Mary nodded, her eyes never leaving her work. "Tessa and I had started up a modest bread shop. I recall that every few nights, you and your father used to visit."

"You remember my father?"

"Of sure, Mason was a terrific man." That is indeed my father's name, and he would be 65 years old today.

"What happened ? I can no longer recall the details of the Downworlders Revolution, but I do remember my father and I escaping and running for days before coming across the village."

"A ten-year coma would do that to you. The humans took refuge in covert communities for years following the war. Even though the werewolves were aware of us, they didn't really bother us, but the vampires were vicious. Their goal is to eradicate all traces of anyone who isn't like them from the planet. Once, they would sneak into the village to feed on people. Certain towns were destroyed by vampires who were bitten, while other communities managed to kill humans before they could spread."

"I remember wolf-men coming to take me from my father."

"Yes, the werewolves would come by from time to time and demand a human girl, a pretty one, no older than twenty or twenty one."

Will she be bred by a wolf? To create a human-wolf hybrid."

"Exactly," she said, flipping the egg and adding seasoning, "that's the reason Tessa is mad at you. This would have been her life, to mated to a wolf, have his child, and have a life of luxury."

"But Damon says after the baby is three, he'll get rid of me, he says he'll take me to Akbur Hills."

"Not all wolves are like Damon, they tend to keep their dolls. You paired up with the worst one, my love. Although Damon understands he requires humans to create hybrids, he still despises us and would kill us all if given the chance."

"Why does he hate us so much?"

"You should exercise caution and refrain from saying anything that could land you in trouble since he detests anyone who is lesser than him. I've witnessed him at his peak, and it's equally as awful as his lowest. He is ruthless."

"But he wouldn't hurt me, would he?"

"He can't help it, it's his nature, Damon can be cruel."

A shiver went down my spine as I thought, "How am I going to get to Akbur Hills from here?"

"Why the hell would you want to go there?" Maria stopped what she was doing and asked, "Why the hell would you want to go there?"

"My father is there; I want to see him."

She pushed the plate of food toward me and said, "Forget about it. It's over an hour to drive there, and you will never make it to Akbur Hills alive."