Lust of Blood

Elena Gilbert was always able to smell danger. Sharp, electric, relentless, it rolled through Los Angeles like heat off the pavement. It pressed harder than usual tonight, though, as if the city itself were holding its breath. As she walked out of the café, it was already dark. She grabbed her coat tighter around her shoulders. Above her head, light bulbs flickered. She could hear the sounds of the distant thump of bass from the vampire-owned club down the street and the hum of traffic. However, it wasn't the city that frightened her. He was the one. She hadn't yet seen him. However, her blood knew. In her bones, a silent scream. That night was four years ago, and still... Like a permanent bruise, his memory clung to her. Elena stopped at the curb with one hand resting protectively on her bag, which contained Klaus's favorite toy and the small wolf keychain he insisted she always wear. "It was just paranoia," she told herself. Only Los Angeles. The only thing visible behind the clouds is the full moon rising like a burn. It had been years since she had seen a werewolf. Then she heard it. The low, controlled growl's deep vibration. Not a beast. Not quite human. After stuttering, her heart roared inside her chest. Slowly, she turned. And there he was. Damon Blackwood stood half in shadow, leaning against the alley wall like he had every right to haunt her. His broad frame, half-open leather jacket, and dark eyes that gleamed like polished obsidian in the streetlight. He was still there. He still had a ruined, stone-carved appearance. With a voice like thunder crashing through velvet, he said, "Elena." She remained motionless. Didn't take a breath. Simply gazed. She whispered, "You're not allowed to say my name." He moved forward. "I must speak with you." Four years ago, you had your chance. Damon clenched his jaw. “I was unaware. I didn't” "No," she yelled, taking a step back. "You decided not to find out." I was turned down by you. Do you recall? Sharp and bitter, their bond ignited. From where she had buried it, she could feel it clawing upward. She refused to let it win, though. For this was not love. Hunger was the cause. Furthermore, she was unsure if it belonged to her or to him. Elena turned away, breathing in short gasps. It had been four years since she last saw him. Pretending he didn't exist for four years of acting as though the pull wasn't genuine and also to keep Klaus hidden from the world that would pursue him... And away from the man who gave her every reason to feel like she was drowning. Behind her, she heard his footsteps. Calm, careful. She couldn't forget the rhythm of Alpha's footsteps, which continued to reverberate in her bones. Silently, as though the admission had cost him something, he remarked, "I never stopped feeling it." "It ruined me that night." "So why?" Her voice broke as she asked. "Why did you treat me like I didn't exist?" She could tell everything from his silence. He had a poor response. Perhaps there wasn't. Perhaps he had been choked by pride, fear, or that damned alpha bloodline. Perhaps the shadow whispering behind his eyes was still the prophecy associated with his family, the one that forewarned of a mate who would bring ruin. She turned back to him. "Now is not the time for you to show up and act concerned." He stepped closer and growled, "I didn't come here to act." She smelled him, a forest after a storm, wild and earthy. The same smell that caused Klaus's hair to curl the way he did and that plagued her dreams. She spat, "You came because of the blood." "Because the blood of my son is truthful." His eyes grew wide. It was there. The word she hadn't yet spoken aloud. Son. Damon's face went pale as he froze. "What?" "You heard me." Her fists clenched. "Klaus is his name." He is four years old. He enjoys chocolate milk and stars, and because his wolf is waking up too early, he has incomprehensible nightmares. Damon stumbled back as if she had hit him. "My child was born to you." Elena's throat constricted. My heart was broken. Then I got him. At a moment, the storage room was quiet and reserved, and the far-away sound of the city outside became barely heard. Then he spoke, his voice aching and rough. "Where is he?" She squinted. "That is not your place to ask." You are not entitled to claim him. He stepped forward and said, "I want to see him." "Only once." "The instant you left me, you forfeited that right." His face grew serious. "I tried to keep you safe." I had the thought— She interrupted, "You thought I was weak." "Just a girl with big eyes and sweet blood." You didn't believe I would live. However, Damon, I did. And I accomplished it without you. Then there was a glint of something primordial in his eyes—longing, anger, regret. Once more, the tangled and sharp bond between them surged. She sensed that his wolf was stirring beneath his skin. And, horrifyingly, so was hers. Because something was inside her now, even if she wasn't a wolf. Something ancient awoke. She was altered by her blood. Klaus had changed. Now Damon was standing there, gazing at her as if she were a nightmare or a ghost from a dream. He barely touched her hand as he reached out. "I've always wanted you." Her voice trembled as she withdrew. "Your desires are no longer the focus of this." But she knew the truth in her heart. They were not yet done with fate. Furthermore, blood never forgets. Klaus had cried once more tonight, Yelling about the fire. Claws. In the woods, a shadow. His dreams had started a year ago, just after his third birthday. In the Nevada hills, Elena had shown him mute seers, healers, and witches. They all made the same statement: He's waking up his wolf. The scary part, however, wasn't that. The blood was the cause. Her blood was in Klaus. Her blood was also abnormal. Long before she had met Damon, it had been altered. experimented with. infused. Changed. She was still unsure of the reason. or how. She only knew that others had begun to hear the powerful song that Klaus's blood sang. She kissed his forehead. "Go to sleep, sweetheart. I'll keep you safe. I promise. With her heart racing, Elena entered the living room. Her bare feet brushed the faded rug she had discovered at a secondhand store years prior as she paced. Her protective herbs, sage and lavender, filled the room. She used them to keep the apartment safe. It was insufficient. No longer. She tightened the curtains and peered out a c***k. Only at night. She knew better than to believe it, though. She was pregnant, alone, and being hunted by creatures she didn't understand the last time she disregarded her instincts. Damon had left her with nothing but silence in the past. No justification. No interaction. Only the reverberation of rejection. But now his energy was back. similar to a ghost. As if fate were giggling in her face. Her cell rang. One message: "They are aware of your location. Now get moving. No sender. Her blood froze.