Blood Of The Luna

Chapter 15

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Slivers of orange and purple lined the evening sky, with misty clouds drifting lazily overhead as I sat at the windowsill and watched the sunset. The air was turning cold slowly, and there was a slight chill which had been everywhere for several hours now.

I drew in a deep breath, and tried to steady my heart which was beating erratically. For some reason, I could feel a knot tightening in the pit of my stomach, like a rope stretched taut. The cold air kissed my skin, and I was so grateful for the peace around me that I didn't even move until the sun finally set and darkness spread all over us like a thick blanket.

When I finally moved, it was with a heaviness in my heart. I walked over to the mirror and glanced at my reflection, feeling apprehensive as my eyes glided over the outfit I had picked out. It was nothing special; just a black crop-top with dark slim-fit jeans and white sneakers. I threw on a leather jacket for the cold, and finished the look off with some dark eyeliner and a little lipstick.

I thought I looked presentable enough. After all, what exactly did one wear to a date with a hunk like Damian?

Red stained my cheeks, and I couldn't hold back a smile which crept onto my lips. Memories of his heavy gaze still flooded my mind, and I was left to wonder if he was really real or maybe just a figment of my imagination.

Get it together, Alyssa. Remember what an asshole he is.

That proved hard enough given how he was trying to make amends for his foolish mistake yesterday. He had apologised already, and even though he wasn't completely out of trouble, he had certainly made my doubts shift slightly.

The whole issue with Joaquín’s father was still in my mind however. I knew how much it troubled him, because he had never mentioned it before, which meant that it must have been eating him up from the inside. The Bloodhounds were a vile group, and we all knew that. But murder was something none of them had ever been caught for. Somehow, even though there were several rumours about them killing someone almost every other week, none of them were ever found guilty for any of it. Some said that it was because they were so good at hiding their tracks. But others said it was because most of the accusations made against them were baseless and prejudiced, because people just wanted to believe that they were evil.

I certainly didn’t know which part of the fence I sat on. I didn’t even want to choose, because on one hand there was the cold-hearted asshole I had seen Damian to be already, and that was the part I hated the most. But on the other hand, there was the Damian who had jumped to my rescue without hesitation. He had been afraid for my sake, and that was the Damian I wanted to get to know. I felt like there was good in him, and he just didn’t like sharing it with anyone, probably because he didn’t want anyone to think of him as weak.

I glanced at the clock briefly, and saw that it was just two minutes to seven. My heartbeat was so loud I could imagine it deafening the neighbours. I didn't know why I was nervous, or why my hands were trembling slightly. But when I saw Damian's car pull up in the driveway, I realised why.

I was going on a date with Damian freaking Lockheart.

I shamelessly stared as he stepped out of the car, wearing a white pullover shirt and dark denim jeans. His heavy boots only added to the badboy persona, and I could almost tell with absolute certainty that there was a leather jacket thrown somewhere in the black car.

Lord almighty, he looked so good!

I dashed towards the door, and hurried downstairs just as the doorbell rang.

"Who is it?" mom's voice came from the kitchen.

"I'm going out," I called back. "Don't worry. I'll be back before curfew."

I didn't wait to hear her reply before I pulled the door open, freezing at the sight of those golden eyes on me. I couldn't even move, his mere presence sending shockwaves through my entire body. I knew my mouth was slightly open, but I just couldn't close it. The pale light of the slender moon fell over him, washing him aglow in a way that almost made him seem ethereal. He was a literal Adonis, a man who was slowly trying to worm his way into my heart.

"Hi," he said, swallowing as he let his gaze sweep all over me. I felt the heat rising to my cheeks as he stared at me, and I could have sworn that he swallowed once again with a hungry look in his eyes. He clenched his left wrist once again, and I made a mental note to ask him about it later. Right now, I was too lost in his eyes to say anything. The sight of him was mesmerising enough, and I couldn’t even string a proper sentence.

"Hi," I finally replied, waiting for those eyes to come back up to my face. He tilted his head as he looked at me, and there were so many questions in them that I didn't even know where to start from. He looked like he was lost for words as well, and a part of me wondered if he was that way because of me.

"Ready?" he asked.

I stepped outside and shut the door behind me in response. Damian linked his arm with mine, and he led me towards the car with a calm and cool demeanour about him.

"You look nice," he said. "What did you do to your hair?"

"I combed it?"

"You should do that more often," he said. "It suits you."

I hid a half grin as he opened the door for me. Why was he being extra nice to me today? He seemed hellbent on making up for his mistake, and I was all for that. He sped around the car and hopped in, and I was immediately greeted by his scent which hung everywhere in the car. I could feel his presence all around me, as if he had somehow spread his very essence all over the seats and the door handle. Everywhere I turned, I could feel him there, like a ghost who lingered just out of sight.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

He fell silent, and a strange look crossed his eyes suddenly. But then he took my hand in his and kissed it gently, causing me to shiver slightly.

"You will find out when we get there," he said, pulling out of the driveway.

"Why are you being so cryptic?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing," he replied. "I just don't like blurting out my plans right from the start. It kind of ruins the whole element of surprise, don't you think?"

We drove on in partial silence, with only the low humming of the engine surrounding us. It was so awkward that I didn't know what to say. Damian seemed comfortable in the silence however. He was staring straight ahead, barely even turning to look at me while I was admiring the way the muscles in his forearm rippled each time he moved the steering. He had a wristband on his right hand, a dark band which didn't seem at odds with the type of person he was.

"Beau has recovered completely," he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence. "Though I imagine his ego is still bruised after that punch you gave him."

I bit back a snort as I remembered the purple face of the i***t from the mall.

"I didn't know you had it in you," he said. "I would never have pegged you as someone who would punch another person in the face, and a Bloodhound at that."

"He was asking for it," I said. "He knows he's not supposed to venture into our territory. Clearly he was looking for trouble, and it found him before he could find it."

"I've punished him for what he did already," Damian said, a shadow crossing over his eyes.

"You didn't kill him, did you?" I asked. When he didn't reply, a chill ran down my spine. I stared straight ahead, goosebumps prickling all over my skin. I couldn't believe that he had murdered him. And he seemed so unbothered by it. Was he always this cold after killing someone?

But then he chuckled, and I looked at him confusedly.

"Relax," he said. "I didn't kill him. Contrary to popular belief, not all Bloodhounds are vicious killers."

He said that almost in a pained way, as if he knew what was being said about his pack and he just didn’t care about it. Maybe he truly didn’t, but I wanted to believe that there was a slight part of him that wouldn’t want to be called a murderer.

"Then what did you do?" I glowered.

"Let's just say he won't be walking for a few days," he muttered darkly. "Now enough about him. I hear there's a dance at your school coming up."

"That's right," I said, blushing once again.

"So who are you going with?" he asked.

"I haven't decided yet," I replied. "There are so many options that I don't even know who to choose."

“Are you sure about that?” he asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said with a dark smirk. “I just didn’t see you as someone who has dozens of men lined up in front of her and she refuses to acknowledge them.”

“Are you saying I’m incapable of attracting a man?” I asked.

“I’m saying you’re too smart to want to base your happiness and your worth over what a man thinks,” he said. “Too many women think they’ve unlocked some secret level of ultimate femininity by their ability to attract as many men as possible. I think that’s stupid. To me, the smart woman know what they want in life, and they go after it without hesitation at all. They know that regardless of what they do, men will always be attracted to them. And who doesn’t want a successful woman?”

I couldn’t help it; I broke out into a stupid grin, which caused him to look sideways at me.

“What?” he asked.

“I just never knew you were the philosopher you’re turning out to be,” I said, trying to contain my laughter.

“It’s not so much philosophy as it is common sense,” he said. “We’re young, and this is the time in our lives when we’re allowed to make mistakes because we have our whole lives ahead of us. But what I’ve figured out already is that we don’t have to fit into the status quo. Just because others make mistakes in their twenties and they think they will get away with it later in life doesn’t mean we should. A good person learns from his mistakes, but a smart person learns from the mistakes of others.”

“Two for two,” I said. “You’re on fire today, Damian.”

He laughed aloud at that, and the sound warmed my heart so much that I almost leaned over and kissed him.

Almost.

“Tell me about you, Alyssa,” he said, placing his right hand over his wrist once again and squeezing hard.

“Why do you keep doing that?” I asked.

“Doing what?”

“That,” I said, pointing to his wrist. “You’ve been doing it since earlier at the mall, and I don’t understand what it means.”

He turned to face me suddenly, and I almost jumped back a little. He looked like he desperately wanted to say something, but then his hand moved away from his wrist and clamped down on his mouth. It was a very strange thing to watch, and I wondered whether he thought this was amusing or not, because it certainly wasn’t.

Truth be told, it was a little bit terrifying.

“I’m sorry,” he said after taking a deep breath and moving his hand away from his mouth. “I’m just so nervous around you.”

“You’re nervous around me?” I asked astonishingly.

“Don’t make this more awkward for me,” he said. “I’m usually not like this. But with you, I just can’t get myself to think straight. Everything about me feels out of balance when I’m with you, and I know I’ve never felt this with any woman before. And oddly enough, I think I like it.”

I melted once again, wondering how he was able to string together such charming words while I was trying to c***k him. Somewhere in my head, I knew that he had just deflected my question. But that was a clear sign that no matter how hard I tried, he just wasn’t going to break.

“Tell me about you, Alyssa,” he repeated. “What is it about you that makes you stand out in any crowd? What is it about you that draws people in and never lets them go? I’ve been trying to figure you out since the very first day I saw you, and yet I feel like there are more complex layers to you still that I am yet to decipher.”

“I’m surprised you think that way,” I said. “I can assure you that there is nothing special about me.”

“That’s not true,” he said. “Why would you think of yourself that way?”

“Because that’s what I have been told my entire life,” I said, trying not to sound all moody and depressed. “It’s been a constant reminder at the back of my mind ever since I was born. I remember it everyday, and I had to live with that pain constantly “

“You are special, Alyssa,” he said. “You should know that by now.”

“I was born without powers, Damian,” I blurted out finally. “Everyone else in our pack has powers except me. I’ve always been the ordinary Alpha’s daughter, always the weak link in any situation I find myself in. I’m supposed to become the Alpha one day, and yet I don’t even know if I’m cut out for it. Sometimes, I can see the disappointment in my father’s face every time he remembers that I will be the one to take over the pack one day. He will never say it out loud, but he was very disappointed that I wasn’t born as a boy. And even though I’ve tried my whole life to do everything a boy would do so I can please him, he never seems to appreciate or even recognise it.”

“It seems we’re both disappointments to our father’s then,” he said. “My father has always been the same. When you’re labeled as number two right from the moment your born, it’s kind of hard to find your place in the world. My brother has everything laid out for him on a silver platter. He knows his role in life, and he will always live with the comfort of knowing that his position was secured even before he was born. For me, I have to find my own place in the world, one way or another. I supposed that’s the curse of being born as number two.”

I tried to lighten the mood then as I felt sorry for him, so I said, “You do realise what number two means, don’t you?”

Damian chuckled at that, and then he pulled up at the side of a cliff. "We're here," he said.

I looked around gloomily, and realised that there was nothing around us for at least a mile. The place he parked was right next to a swerve in the road, with a rocky mountainside nearby. The beach was down below, a dark and endless expanse of water which seemed solid and immeasurable. I could hear the lapping of the water on the shore once I stepped out, with Damian holding the door for me. He smiled when I looked at him, and my heart skipped a beat.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

"You'll see," he replied innocently. "There's something I want to show you. It's just over the edge."

Something didn't feel right. He was silent afterwards, and the faint golden glow of his eyes was now gone, replaced by a dark and empty gaze. He led me towards the edge, his hand on the small of my back sending fiery sparks all over my body. It was hard to concentrate, but still I could feel a sense of dread settling around me. The world was far too quiet; even the waves seemed to have slowed. I could feel a shift in the air, though I didn't know what it was for or what exactly it meant.

"Damian, are you sure this is safe?" I asked.

He said nothing, his eyes serious and staring straight ahead. We had reached the edge, and I swallowed nervously as I looked over. It was a long way down. There was a brief moment where my head spun, and I nearly fell over. But Damian held onto me like his life depended on it. He seemed to be having an internal debate, which was why he looked so confused when I called him name again. His hand went back to his wrist, as though one half of his body was battling with the other and trying to restrain it.

"What are we doing here?" I asked when he looked at me in a bewildered manner. He tried to speak, but then the stoic expression returned to his face and he closed his eyes. Now my heart was beating loudly. Something was terribly wrong. And I had no idea what it was, or how to fix it. I looked at Damian once again, realising how close I was to the edge. Golden eyes stared at me, and in the swirl of colour I saw a shadow of rage flicker through. I moved to get away from him, but he held me firmly.

"Forgive me," he said.

And then he pushed me.

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