Chapter 12 – The First Scar
408 Words
Elena’s heels clicked against the marble floor as she followed Damon out of the gala. The cold night air hit her like a slap, but it did nothing to cool the storm brewing inside her.
She had been silent the entire ride home, but as soon as they stepped into the penthouse, she turned on him.
“Who was Daniel to you?” she demanded, folding her arms.
Damon shut the door behind them with deliberate slowness, his jaw tightening. “I told you to ignore him.”
“I can’t ignore him,” she shot back. “And I won’t ignore what Victoria said either. What did she mean by that?”
Damon exhaled, rolling his sleeves up as he stepped toward her. “You’re wasting your time trying to dig into things that don’t concern you, Elena.”
“That’s not your decision to make,” she countered.
Something flickered in his gaze—something dark.
He closed the distance between them in an instant, crowding her against the wall. “Isn’t it?”
Elena’s breath hitched.
His presence was overwhelming, suffocating, but not in the way that made her want to run.
In the way that made her want.
Damon reached out, trailing his fingers along the side of her face, his touch deceptively gentle. “I don’t owe you answers,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “Not now. Not ever.”
Her hands curled into fists. “You own my time. My body. But you don’t own me.”
His lips twitched in something resembling amusement. “Don’t I?”
A war raged inside her, and she hated that a part of her responded to the way he looked at her—as if she was something to be devoured.
Then, just as quickly as he had stepped in, he pulled away.
“I have work to do,” he said dismissively, already turning from her.
Frustration boiled beneath her skin, but she refused to let him see it.
Instead, she walked past him, heading for her room.
But just before she disappeared behind the door, she said, “One day, Damon, you won’t be able to push me away.”
And as she shut the door behind her, she swore she heard him exhale, as if the weight of something unseen was pressing against him.
Something he refused to let her see.
Something that, despite everything, made him afraid.
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- Writer
