The Silent Bruises

When morning came and the sun seemed to fill every inch of the mansion, Elena opened her eyes to yet another day in the life she never wanted. She rubbed her eyes and looked around her luxurious room again, the masterpiece that was hers but at the same time didn't really belong to her. She had managed to get some decent amount of sleep, uninterrupted by Damon's visits to claim what he insisted was his own.

However, she found herself unwillingly wishing he had actually come.

She lay on the bed for a while, staring at the magnificence of the room, wondering how she was a prisoner in paradise. She tried to imagine the circumstances differently, actually being in love with her mate, and ruling like a queen in such a beautiful palace. But reality quickly found her before she could float off into her dreams.

Today was not going to be different from the last two days… not as long as Nyla and Lucia were still drawing breath. As if on cue, leaning on the wall and patiently waiting for her were Nyla and Lucia.

“Well, well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with her magnificent presence,” Nyla mocked, grinning from ear to ear as she was prone to do.

Lucia was smug beside her as always, the loyal sidekick… holding a glass of wine that she clearly had no business sipping so early in the morning.

“You're late, Omega,” she hissed, even though Elena wasn't actually late.

“But I…I came as soon as…”

“Save your sorry excuses,” Nyla snapped, raising her voice like she was entertaining the house with some early morning drama. She looked over at Elena’s shoulder, at the maids who were hovering uncertainly around with their cleaning supplies. “Out. All of you. She’ll be doing it all today… her welcome package isn't quite done yet.”

The maids exchanged curious glances, hesitating at the command, until a death glare from Nyla finally sent them scampering away. Elena was left there, alone, and at the mercy of her two tormentors.

“On your knees,” Lucia ordered smoothly, sipping her wine like a queen newly crowned. “Scrub every inch until it's perfectly shining, and don't think about stopping until I can eat off it.”

Elena wanted to fight back, to tell them that she wasn't going to do it. But then she thought about the odds that were stacked against her, and the consequences that were likely to follow any form of rebellion. They were both physically more powerful than her since they had their wolves, they had control over the servants and guards, and it was common knowledge that Damon only remembered her existence during his visits to her room.

Any form of protest would only worsen her situation and make it even more unbearable. She lowered herself quietly to the floor, and began the work. She forced herself not to look up, not to look into their smug eyes as Nyla and Lucia lounged nearby, whispering cruel jokes about her and making sure she heard it.

To escape their immediate torment, she allowed her thoughts to wander wild again… remembering the books she used to steal from her old packs library, hiding in the woods to read, and dreaming about heroines who found true love and overcame impossible odds.

Pain violently dragged her back into the real world without warning. Her bare knees on the floor were throbbing with pain and she bit her lip to stop herself from crying out with pain.

“Pathetic,” Nyla murmured loudly enough for her to hear. “She looks like a stray dog scrubbing for scraps.”

Lucia chuckled wickedly, taking another sip from her glass. “Why Damon accepted her is still beyond me. I'll never really understand men.”

Elena didn’t respond. She never did. Silence had become her shield, her only weapon left. She returned to her task, scrubbing harder, willing herself to disappear into the floor if she had to.

By the time she finally finished the hideous task, her knees burned with fresh bruises, her hands were blistered from the brush, and both her shoulders were trembling with exhaustion. Nyla and Lucia had left a long time ago, clearly satisfied with her suffering.

Later that afternoon, as she carried a bundle of laundry down the hall, she caught sight of a figure moving on the other side of the corridor. Damon.

Their eyes met, and everything else seemed to pause in that instant. Elena just stared at him, completely dumbfounded. She thought he was about to say something… but he didn't.

His eyes had only roamed over her body in judgement… clothes soaked with sweat, skin covered with dirt, and a drained look on her face. He didn't seem surprised, neither did he look angry or disgusted… He was just there.

When night finally came, Elena curled up on her bed, hugging the pillow to her chest. She wasn’t sure if Damon would come or not, but a small part of her was really praying for him to actually come.

Then she heard it… the quiet click of the door opening.

Damon came to her without a word, pulling her close to him and using his mouth to roam over her lips, necks and breasts. He reeked of a passionate hunger, a hunger that made him look like very different people in one body. A cold and remorseless Alpha by day, and a perfect lover by night. His hands were a little rough as they reached for her waist, tracing down her hips as if to remind her that every inch belonged to him.

Elena gasped when he pressed her beneath him, pinning her with his weight and looking very sure about himself. The rhythm he set was steady and unyielding, each thrust echoing the same authority with which he ruled his lands. His breath burned against her ear, and his hand gripped her thigh to hold her in place, as if he feared she might vanish if he let go.

Her body betrayed her, arching, responding, even as her heart ached with so much confusion.

And when it finally ended again, Damon withdrew silently, adjusting his shirt, and leaving her tangled in sheets… wanting, hurting, and unable to understand why.