Free Web NovelChapter 62: Topsy-Turvy II
[Third POV]
Damon watched as Harper’s hand slowly fell limp, returning to the bed. Her breaths quickly slowed down into even paces, and with the light snores that escaped her parted lips, he knew for sure that she had fallen asleep.
He couldn’t help but run a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the strands harshly as though the pain would distract him from the emotional upheaval his heart just endured.
Harper had gazed at him so tenderly, so lovingly, that it felt like a balm on his weary soul.
Then, his brother’s name fell from her beautiful lips, a realization so devastating that it took every inch of mental fortitude in Damon not to flinch. He felt as though he had been shoved off the edge of a sharp cliff, and he was left desperately gripping for purchase.
It was Blaise that she recognized. Her love was for Blaise alone, and she had nothing to spare for Damon, nothing more than hatred and disgust and distrust.
’I don’t trust him.’
Harper’s words continued to repeat themselves in his mind, with varying degrees of accusation. He easily recalled the frantic, worried look in her eyes as she relayed her concerns to ’Blaise’. In her eyes, Damon was no better than a demon, out to separate her from her beloved mate. He was nothing more than a villain to Blaise’s hero.
’I don’t trust him.’
Never had he rued the day that Blaise looked like him. It used to be a point of pride that Fangborne had two equally competent and good-looking heirs, and when things went to hell in a handbasket years later, he could look at Blaise’s face, a close copy of his own, and still find comfort in knowing there was someone like him in the world.
’I don’t trust him.’
Those accusing words jabbed and prickled at his heart, working as though a ghost’s hand had taken hold of him, squeezing it until he was left breathless in the most agonizing way possible. Harper had said those words in confidence, believing he was Blaise. These words were her true feelings when it came to him. She wanted to be away from him, and she wanted Blaise to be careful of him.
Her words hurt more than any blow she had given him in the arena. His lips twisted at the irony; she was the one beaten black and blue in the hospital bed, but he felt like the aggrieved party, brought down so low by her mere words alone.
However, she had also thanked him. She said his name.
Was it a mistake? Had she misspoken? How could she have made such a mistake in the end? Or was she simply lying the whole time?
All the possibilities taunted him relentlessly. Damon dared not think too much about it.
He flexed and clenched his fingers, repeating the action. Nevertheless, no matter how much he did, he couldn’t seem to drive the tension out of his arms.
He turned on his heel, quickly leaving the room in the direction of the House Sirius’s training grounds. While he wasn’t a frequent visitor, it seemed like his trips there had only been increasing more and more ever since Harper’s arrival to Fangborne.
Previously, there were other methods of relieving stress― going for runs, immersing himself in battle, or indulging in numerous women and the pleasures of the flesh. However, now that Harper had shown up in his life, none of his previous methods of stress relief seemed to work as efficiently any longer.
If anything, the thought of some even disgusted him.
"Alpha!"
Damon stopped in his tracks, a familiar woman darting up to him. She smiled brightly, a bubbly grin hanging on her features as she reached forward and clung onto his arm before he could back away.
Disgust swirled deep within Damon, pooling in the pits of his stomach as she pressed her breasts against his bicep.
"You’ve not visited in a while," she said, batting her eyelashes coquettishly, her lips in a delicate pout. "I’ve missed you. Did you miss me too?"
The collar around the woman’s neck dangled dangerously, a little looser than a perfect fit. The woman tilted her neck to offer even more of her skin in an attempt to entice him. However, Damon’s gaze didn’t linger on her skin for too long. He carefully peeled her hands off his arm, practically flinging her to the side.
She stumbled back a little from the force, hurt dashing across her eyes due to his actions.
"Damon?" she asked.
"Do not call me that," Damon said, his voice low and tinged with warning. Light glinted ominously in his eyes, a flash of murderous rage that seemingly came out of nowhere. "You have no right."
"But that’s your name," she said, her eyes glassy and wide as tears started to brim at the edges. The woman’s lips wobbled a little as she spoke, seemingly about to cry as she took another step closer toward Damon. The latter, however, only dodged back.
He sidestepped her, his long strides taking him far away from the woman despite her desperately trying to keep up with him. In order to keep up with his steps, she had to jog a little, the thickness of her skin rivaling that of concrete walls. Nicole should study her under a microscope.
"Wait―" freeweɓnovēl.coɱ
Her face slammed right into Damon’s back when he suddenly stopped in his tracks, and when she finally opened her eyes, still rubbing on a sore spot on her head, she was met with the dark glaring gaze of Damon’s brilliant blue eyes. How odd, that eyes so bright could give a look so sinister.
A shiver ran down her spine, but if only she knew that it was only about to get worse.
"Don’t make me repeat myself," Damon said. "Get the fuck out of House Sirius. This is your third and final warning. If I see you here again, and if you let Harper know you’re here, I will make sure you stay dead this time. Understood, Lydia Johnson?"
