The Mark and the Madness

Elena didn’t move when the door opened again. But it wasn't Nyla or Lucia this time around.

Two young women entered the room quietly, avoiding any form of eye contact with her. She knew they were servants from their outfits, and didn't bother to ask any questions. They simply kept a tray of food on a table in the room. She was hungry, but after everything she had been through lately, she hesitated, doubtful of their intentions and expecting more cruelty. But nothing came. They simply stood by and waited after placing the food down… still without a word or making eye contact.

She walked over and looked at the food. It wasn't the scraps she was used to while growing, it was a real meal fit for royalty. Warm and well spiced vegetables, grilled fish and baked potatoes, and a glass of cold water.

It looked too good to be true given her suffering, but then her stomach growled at the sight.

After taking the first bite, tears formed silently in her eyes and fell slowly. It wasn't just the food that made her cry, but the gesture behind it. That even in the oppressive condition she was in, someone still considered her to be worth feeding. Not in a dog's bowl or with leftovers like her family sometimes subjected her to… with real food like she was a person.

When she was done, the servants cleared away the dishes, and a young one approached her politely. “Please come with me.”

Elena could have fought them, demanded answers or even screamed at them to leave, but she was tired of taking hits after hits… maybe it was time to consider a proper plan.

She was led into a state of the art bathroom where two other servants joined them. She let them clean her, wiping away the dried blood, the dust, the bruises. The girl cleaned the shallow cut on her cheek with such care that Elena nearly trembled from the kindness alone… it was an alien feeling.

When they were done, she was dressed in a soft night wear that showcased her beautiful body. Her hair was brushed and repacked in a way she never thought possible.

By the time they left, she barely recognized the girl in the mirror… but the sudden nice treatment still baffled her.

An hour passed by quietly, and she was about to drift off to sleep on the remade bed when she felt him.

It wasn't the sound of the door opening or his footsteps that warned her… it was a feeling deep within her that felt like a creature waking up after a very long slumber.

Damon stood in the doorway, silent, and with an aura that seemed to freeze the very air around him. The fancy clothes from the meeting back at Shadow pack were gone, and so was the intimidating look of Alpha dominance. He was only wearing a black trouser and an unbuttoned flower shirt.

He looked less like a monster now and more like a myth, and by the gods he was breathtakingly handsome.

She tried to keep her eyes away from him, to stop herself from admiring his well toned abs, or the line of his jaw, and the veins that ran like tiny rivers around his forearms. She hated the fact that she noticed these details, and hated even more the way her pulse quickened as he came further into the room.

Damon didn't say a word as he came closer to the bed. His eyes did the talking instead, roaming slowly over her body, but not with hunger… like he was trying to memorize every single curve.

“Is this it?” She asked viciously, trying to mask everything she was feeling.

He said nothing, and quietly took off his shirt.

Elena rolled her eyes dramatically. “Let me guess. You brought me here as your plaything, and now that you've had your servants feed and clothe me to your taste, you've come to see how well I can play my part?”

A small smile of amusement crossed his lips.

“I didn’t bring you here to play.” He said in a voice so husky, her brain almost got fried.

She opened her mouth to say something… something cold and bitter, but he was suddenly in front of her, and the words got lost in her mouth.

Slowly and deliberately, he lifted his hand and brushed away a loose strand of hair from her face. She felt paralyzed, unable to move a muscle.

Her instincts screamed at her to pull away… to slap him, curse him, and spit in his perfect face. But she didn't move. Her body betrayed her, subconsciously leaning into him… yearning to be touched.

He was so close now, close enough that she could feel the heat oozing from his body, close enough to smell the faintest hint of the shaving cream he used that evening.

The hand strayed from her cheek to her neck, then to her collarbone.

“Why do you feel like this?” he murmured to himself as his hand dipped lower all the same.

Elena's body trembled and responded before her mind could even catch up. She gasped, then shivered as a deep ache bloomed where he had touched her… her honey pot.

He explored tenderly with his fingers, and she felt powerless in his presence. She hated him for making her feel that way. Hated herself more for being too weak.

He leaned close to her ear, and then whispered in a slow and sensual tone. “Tell me to stop.”

She didn’t. She was holding on to his body. She didn't pull him closer to her, but she also didn't push him away.

When his lips found her neck, her body arched beneath him. He pushed her back onto the bed like a romantic lover, and she let him. Piece by piece Damon began to undress her, taking away each clothing item with reverence as if they were holy relics. She stared into his eyes, unmoving.

His hand parted her thigh smoothly and went for her core again, but then he froze. She saw the hesitation in his eyes when he discovered the truth of her innocence.

“Kane didn’t lie,” he whispered, more to himself. “You're really untouched.”

She looked away.

“Do you want this?” he asked, huskily breathing against her skin.

“No.” She replied weakly.

But still, her hands held on to his shoulders, and her body refused to support the lie.

Damon took her mouth tenderly in a kiss. It was slow… gentle and tender, almost as if he wanted to ruin her… but intimately.

And she let him. She told herself it was the bond. The mark. The leftover heat of that claiming bite.

But when the deed was done and Damon was gone without even a backward glance, leaving her alone in the empty room… she couldn’t lie to herself anymore.

She had wanted it.

And she hated that most of all.