Inhumane

032

PAIGE

Damon's eyes were on me instantly, even through the darkness of the trees, he knew exactly where I was. The relief flooded through me so sharply that my own breath was stolen. I charged towards him, shifting halfway and throwing myself at him. He shifted back, slower than his usual fluid change, and caught me with his shackled hands.

"What are you doing here?" He whispered frantically, scolding me. "You shouldn't have come." But his lips were in my hair and caught on my ear and kissing my face. He held me like he hadn't in years.

"I couldn't leave you here with him knowing what I do," I whispered with a watery voice, wrapping my arms around his neck so tightly I was worried it might hurt him. With my face in his neck, I could smell the metallic scent of blood very clearly. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

Damon's eyes were intent on my face but my own traveled down the length of his naked body. He was covered in dark purple bruises, including his sharp jaw and cheek. There was a raw wound on his side that had dried up a bit, and a matching gash on the side of his left thigh. His blood held the scent of a paralytic we often used on Alphas, but it seemed like he hadn't been dosed in hours. Even though, I could sense he was weak. I realized he hadn't responded, his eyes were still lost on my face.

"Damon," I whispered. "We need to get you out of here."

"He wanted you to come here. This is exactly what he wanted. You need to go."

"I don't care, I'm not leaving without you." I looked over the shackles and knew exactly where to find the key. A plan had begun to solidify itself in my head and I knew what I had to do. Taking Damon's face into my hands, I looked deep into his eyes. "Do you trust me?"

The Wolf searched my eyes desperately, looking for my angle. "Always," he breathed.

I kissed him, hard. My hands laid gingerly on his cheeks, holding his mouth to mine like my last lifeline. In a way, he was. "Remember that." I moved to get up from where I straddled his naked lap but froze and moved to hold his face once again. "You are my everything. I am sorry for all of the pain I have caused you." I kissed him once again, softer this time, and got up.

Damon grabbed my wrist as I moved off him, tethering me to him. I looked down into his pure wolf eyes, but all he said was "I love you. Don't go."

"I love you more," I whispered, and slipped from his grip.

I crept across the backyard to the wooden deck my father had built many years ago. Hanging off the railing was an old pair of my cargo pants and a large fleece flannel. I realized Damon was right, they had known I would come for him, and it was exactly what my father wanted. I put the clothing on, realizing it had been months since I had worn something that was actually mine. It felt both wrong and nostalgic all at once.

Without glancing back at Damon, I grabbed the handle of the door to the mudroom and walked into what had become the house of the enemy.

The mudroom was dim, but my eyes adjusted quickly. I was hit immediately by the familiar scent of the wood flooring, muddy boots, and snow-soaked coats. I had to pause for a moment as the memories flooded back to me. It was like my life was rewinding before my eyes. All of the days spent walking in and out of that door, tromping through the snow, drawing plants, taking pictures, shooting guns... I could see my father, I could see my mother, I could see myself. In hindsight, I had always been so small and curled inward against the world. As if I had been beaten down by life at a raw age and left out in the cold. My anger and despair had buried the girl that I was before my mother's death. It had turned me into something that felt unworthy of love and trust. It had made me into a killer and a liar.