Delicate

Chapter 5

I find him so fine... yum

BTW - If Damon refers to his parents by their first names it's not that he's being disrespectful, it's just less confusing that way.

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Damon's P.O.V

I cut away a piece of salmon before lifting it and pushing it between my lips, chewing slowly as I watch my parents carefully.

Dad had made lunch, he had taken up the task of refilling everyone's plates with a large smile while Aiden was laughing at something Josey said about Hagen. 

They seemed completely unbothered, eyes light with nothing but happiness as they enjoyed our Saturday lunch together. The conversation was light, easy and didn't seem to be strained.

They were smiling. 

If something was wrong, they wouldn't be so damn happy. They wouldn't be so carefree if things weren't okay.

But then again, smiles are the greatest weapon of deception.

There is no need to be so cynical D - Theo chimes in, his voice just as cheerful as always. I think they're hiding something as well, but they must be waiting for a good moment to tell you. And whatever it is, it doesn't change the fact that they're your parents and love you.

Okay - I mumble, pulling my eyes away from scrutinizing them and only my plate.

I knew Theo was right, my parents had never done anything to make me think they didn't love me. I was lucky with the pair I got as dads and didn't have a problem with them being gay. Personally, the only dick I liked was my own, men just weren't my cup of tea, but my parents loved one another and that was what was important.

I got along with both my parents just fine, when I wasn't fighting them, in different forms each. I clashed heads the most with my dad, Julian, which seemed to surprise a lot of people who knew him to be the calm, controlled alpha. Aiden claimed that when we fought I brought out a rage in him that he hadn't seen since they were teens, back in the ancient days when they were my age and didn't know that they were mates.

I saw that as an achievement personally. 

When we weren't arguing, dad and I were fine. Dad was pretty chill about most things, relaxed enough to not trying to stop me from doing shit he knew I would end up doing, with or without his permission.

For my old man, Aiden, we used to bond over our 'violent tendencies'. He's a little fucked in the head like me, except he has an actual reason for it. But that didn't matter before, he didn't care before. He taught me how to fight the minute I could hold my own fork, that's when he gave me the knives. I loved knives, they were probably my favorite weapons and I slowly mastered them over the years. He took me out hunting for rogues, tough me how to track them, taught me how to enjoy the chase as much as I enjoyed the kill.

Aiden made me strong and I was forever grateful to him for giving me that. But lately, he didn't see it the same, didn't see me the same. He'd changed and expected me to change with him. Now it was against pack rules to hunt rogues and suddenly, it was wrong to want to. He didn't appreciate my skill with knives anymore, didn't like the number of kills under my belt.

He joined the club that saw me as Demon rather than Damon. I guess I should've seen it coming, he was bound to at some point, but I hadn't and now I was the fucked up one.  

I stiffen when I feel a hand on my arm, my mind railing to bring me back to the present moment. I look up to see Peter looking at me. He wasn't crying, a fucking rarity, but he wasn't smiling either. He had a small frown that showed more with his long, blonde hair tied back in one of his messy buns.