Chapter 12:Damian
1395 Words
I sat in the car with Elias in my arms, his weight pressed against me as though he belonged there, and for the first time all night I could breathe.
The chaos of the party was still behind my eyes, the scent of fear, the sound of his voice in my head begging for help, the sight of that bastard leaning over him. My fists still ached, knuckles raw from the force I put behind every blow. I had wanted to kill Adam. Not just hurt him, not just scare him. I had wanted to rip him apart with my bare hands for touching what was mine.
Mine.
The word repeated itself like a drumbeat in my chest, both comforting and terrifying. I didn’t plan to say it. I didn’t even think it through when the words left my mouth in front of everyone. My omega. Since when did I have the right to claim him like that? Since when did I even allow myself to want such a thing? And yet, when I saw Elias on the floor, weak and trembling, there was no hesitation. There was no thought. There was only instinct.
I wanted to protect him. I wanted to make sure no one ever looked at him that way again.
Earlier that day, I already knew I was in trouble. I asked George to prepare breakfast, croissants, fruit, light things I had seen Elias enjoy. I had told myself it was nothing, just a courtesy, but I am not a man who gives courtesy. I don’t bend my routines for anyone. And when Elias walked into my room, looking like he belonged there, comfortable and out of place all at once, I noticed the way his eyes lingered on me. Admiration, maybe even desire. He tried to hide it, but I saw it. I always see it. His hasty exit had only proven me right.
He wanted me, even if he couldn’t admit it. And I, God help me, I wanted him too.
That was why I had only invited him tonight. Why I held his waist on the carpet and let the cameras catch us together. I knew what those pictures would mean tomorrow. I knew the world would feast on them, spread them across every magazine and gossip page. But for once, I didn’t care. I wanted them to see him with me. I wanted them to know.
And yet, at the party, I made the mistake of leaving him alone. I should have known better. I told myself the private booth would keep him safe. I had asked for it with him in mind, so he could watch without being seen, so he wouldn’t feel cornered or exposed. I should have been there. Instead, I left him and I let Adam near him.
I will never forget the way it felt. The tug in my chest, sharp and merciless, dragged me back to him. Fear I hadn’t felt since I was a child. I had excused myself from my friends without a word, ignoring every question, every laugh, every attempt to stop me. My feet carried me toward him like a man on a mission.
And then I saw him. On the floor. Desperate. Crawling away.
I don’t remember what I said to Adam. I don’t remember the threats or the words. I only remember the rage. The kind that strips you down to something primal, something dangerous. My fists answered for me. And I didn’t stop until Elias touched me. His voice, his trembling hand, pulled me out of that darkness.
Now here he is, resting against me, trusting me. His scent calms the storm still boiling in my blood. His warmth steadies me.
I don’t like how tonight unfolded, but I can’t deny what I feel. I can’t deny that I want to keep him like this. Close, safe, mine. Even if I don’t deserve him. Even if I don’t understand why the hell he makes me feel this way.
All I know is that I am not ready to let go. Not tonight. Not ever.
The ride home was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound in the night. Elias’s head rested against my chest, his soft breath rising and falling in rhythm with my heartbeat. A small sigh escaped his lips, and I knew he had fallen asleep. Something about that trust. That unconscious surrender warmed me more than I wanted to admit.
When the car stopped, I didn’t wake him. I slid out and gathered him in my arms, his body light but solid against me. For a moment, I just held him there, staring at the entrance of my home. George was waiting, as always. His eyes lingered on me. Elias cradled against my chest, but he said nothing. He knew better than to ask. He closed the door quietly behind us, though I could still feel his gaze burning between my shoulder blades as I ascended the stairs.
Every part of me wanted to take Elias into my own room, into my bed, where I could keep him close and make sure he didn’t stir from my side. But I knew that when he woke up, he wouldn’t appreciate it. Not yet. So I carried him to his own room, forcing myself to set him down gently on his bed.
The incident had drained him completely. He didn’t even stir when I slid his shoes off or loosened the suffocating clothes he had worn tonight. My hands were careful, reverent almost, though part of me wanted to scrub every trace of Adam from his skin. The bastard had dared to touch him, dared to breathe his scent on Elias, and the thought of it made my chest tighten with rage.
But Elias was too peaceful in his sleep. I couldn’t bring myself to wake him just to force him into a shower. Instead, I knelt beside him for a long moment, my eyes tracing over the pale line of his throat, the curve of his shoulders, the rise and fall of his chest. His skin was smooth and fair, almost fragile-looking in the dim light, and the faint shadows of exhaustion under his eyes only made me want to protect him more. He looked impossibly vulnerable lying there in nothing but his boxer briefs, the soft blanket twisted loosely at his waist.
I bent down and brushed my lips across his hand, a kiss so light it might have been mistaken for a breath. Then I pulled away before temptation could convince me to linger.
I went to his closet, retrieved a set of pajamas. something simple, loose, comfortable. He stirred faintly when I slid the fabric over his arms, a small, incoherent murmur tumbling from his lips. I froze, afraid I had woken him, but his eyes fluttered half open only to close again.
“Shhh,” I whispered, my voice low and steady as I cupped his face. “It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
He made a soft, content hum, leaning slightly into my touch before drifting off again. My thumb brushed against his cheekbone before I forced my hand away, tucking the blanket securely around him.
I stayed. I told myself I would only watch for a few minutes, to make sure he didn’t fall into nightmares after the fear he had endured tonight. But the truth was, I couldn’t pull my gaze away. His face, so serene now, was a stark contrast to the terror I had seen on it hours ago. That look had nearly broken me, and I wasn’t ready to leave him yet.
Finally, when the steady rise and fall of his chest convinced me he was truly at peace, I pushed myself up. My body ached, exhaustion clawing at me, but I ignored it. I wanted to lay beside him, to pull him against me and guard him through the night. But I couldn’t. Not without risking the trust he had just placed in me by sleeping so soundly.
So I dragged myself out of his room, each step heavier than the last, and forced my body down the hall toward my own bed. The ache of restraint throbbed in me, but I told myself it was better this way.
Better for him.
Even if it left me restless.
- Writer
