Chapter 12
Damon
Our bodies spooned together, limbs tangled together. I ran my fingers through Elliot's disheveled curls, watching as the moonlight danced upon the sandy strands. My omega was quiet, contemplative, but I could sense the whirlwind of thoughts swirling behind those hazel eyes.
"What's on your mind, little omega?" I asked softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple.
He hesitated before speaking, choosing his words carefully. "This changes nothing, you know."
A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. I had expected as much from my stubborn little omega. "Is that so?"
"Yes." He nodded firmly, his chin set in determination. "We had a moment—an incredible moment—but that's all it was. Just a moment."
Just a moment? Oh, I didn't know about that.
I chuckled, trailing my fingertips along his arm, feeling goosebumps erupt under my touch. "Oh, Elliot. Always so full of pride and denial."
He bristled, pulling away slightly. "It's not denial. I'm simply stating facts."
Did he really think that? Did he really think I could believe him?
"Facts, huh?" I countered, shifting my weight to pin him beneath me, my hands caging his head in on either side. "Then let's talk facts. You're here, in my bed, after I've just claimed you thoroughly. Your scent is all over my sheets, your heat still clings to my skin, and yet you insist that none of this means anything?"
It was baffling, really.
His breath hitched, his pupils dilating as he gazed up at me. "You... you can't hold me captive forever."
"No," I agreed, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. "But I don't have to. You're not a prisoner, Elliot. Not unless you want to be."
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Please. Like I have any choice."
He had plenty of choices, actually. He just didn't like any of them.
"Choices are funny things," I murmured, running my thumb across his bottom lip. "Sometimes, they look different when you step back and take a good, hard look at them."
"And what choices do I supposedly have?" He challenged, his eyes burning with a different intensity now.
"A chance to stay here," I began, counting off each option on my fingers. "To learn more about who you truly are. To explore this… thing between us." I paused, letting the implications sink in. "Or, you could choose to leave, to walk away from everything you've discovered tonight."
Elliot swallowed hard, considering my words. "Why would you even give me that option?"
"Why wouldn't I?" I shot back, a hint of anger creeping into my tone. "Do you think so little of me that you believe I would force you to stay against your will?"
"No," he admitted softly, his gaze dropping to my chest. "That's not what I meant. It's just... unexpected, coming from someone like you."
"Someone like me?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, you know," he said, waving his hand vaguely. "An alpha. Someone used to taking what they want without regard for anyone else's feelings."
"I won't deny that I'm like that sometimes," I conceded, my expression softening. "But I also know the value of consent, of respecting boundaries—even if they sometimes chafe against my nature."
"That's... that's surprisingly progressive of you." His surprise was palpable, and I couldn't help but feel a swell of satisfaction knowing that I'd managed to catch him off guard once again.
"And then there's the fact that I genuinely care about what happens to you," I added, tucking a curl behind his ear. "I want whatever makes you happy, whatever helps you thrive. And if that means allowing you to spread your wings and figure out where you belong in this world, then so be it."
He was silent for a long moment, absorbing my words, searching for some hidden agenda that wasn't there. Finally, he sighed, deflating beneath me. "Okay, fine. Maybe I am no longer a prisoner. But that doesn't mean I have to accept this… lifestyle. This… pack dynamic."
He was obviously talking about our clan's preference to be naked.
"You don't have to accept anything," I assured him, tracing patterns on his bare shoulder. "All I ask is that you keep an open mind. That you consider the possibility that there might be something worth exploring here, something that could bring you pleasure and fulfillment beyond your wildest dreams."
He shivered, his cock twitching against mine at the suggestion. "And what if I decide I don't want that? What if I decide I want to maintain my independence, my freedom?"
"If that's truly what you desire," I replied, cupping his cheek, "then I'll support you. I'll help you find a way to live your life on your terms, outside of the Nightshade pack."
He seemed taken aback by my response, his mouth opening and closing several times before he finally spoke. "Really?"
"Of course," I said, smiling down at him. "I may be many things, Elliot—a dominant alpha, a powerful leader—but above all, I am a man of my word. If you tell me that you wish to leave, then I will make sure it happens."
"But..." He trailed off, biting his lip uncertainly. "What about us? What about what happened earlier?"
"What about it?" I asked, though I knew exactly what he was referring to. "You said that it changed nothing."
"It was... incredible," he admitted reluctantly. "The best sex I've ever had. The most intense experience of my life."
A smug grin tugged at my lips. "Glad to hear it."
"But it doesn't change anything," he repeated, his nails digging into my shoulders. "It was just one night. One amazing fuck. Nothing more."
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Always so quick to dismiss your own desires, aren't you, little omega? So eager to put yourself back in that neat little box labeled 'Independent' or 'Unavailable'."
"Well, what else am I supposed to think?" He demanded, his frustration mounting. "You can't possibly expect me to believe that we share some deep, profound connection after one roll in the hay!"
"Maybe not," I conceded, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "But I do expect you to recognize that our connection goes far deeper than mere physical attraction. We're bound together now, Elliot." And I had marked him.
He looked up at me, his hazel eyes filled with uncertainty and fear. "How can you be so sure?"
"Because I've felt it before," I whispered, the ghosts of my past threatening to resurface. "With another omega, years ago. A love lost too soon, taken from me before its time. But I never stopped believing in the power of such bonds—that they exist, that they're real, and that they're worth fighting for."
His breath hitched, his voice barely above a whisper as he asked, "What happened to him?"
My heart clenched painfully, the memories of that tragic day washing over me like a tidal wave. "He died giving birth to our child," I rasped, my throat tight with emotion. "A beautiful boy who didn't survive the birthing process."
"I'm so sorry," Elliot murmured, his arms wrapping around me, offering comfort and solace. "I can't imagine how much that must have hurt."
"It did," I agreed, burying my face in his neck, breathing in his sweet scent. "But that pain taught me valuable lessons. I still carry them with me, even today."
We lay there in silence for a while, each lost in our thoughts, our bodies pressed tightly together. Finally, Elliot broke the quietude, his voice tentative as he asked, "So, what does this mean for us? For our future?"
I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the conversation ahead. "That depends entirely on you, little omega. On what you want—and what you need—to be happy, safe, and fulfilled."
As we lay entwined, basking in the warm glow of post-coital bliss, I couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Elliot's demeanor. The stubborn pride that had been his shield moments before began to crack, revealing the vulnerability hiding beneath. It was clear that the weight of his circumstances was finally catching up with him, just as I thought it would happen.
"Damon," he started, eyes looking left and right. "About what I said earlier..."
I waited patiently, knowing full well that whatever was troubling him would come out eventually. And when it did, I wanted him to feel comfortable enough to be completely honest with me.
"Yes?" I prompted gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his face.
He sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "It's just... everything I said about leaving, about having choices... it was mostly bullshit."
I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep any hint of judgment from my expression. I already knew it was all bullshit.
"Oh?"
"Yeah," he muttered, looking down at where our fingers were intertwined. "There's literally nothing waiting for me outside these walls. My family—well, they don't give two shits about me. They probably haven't even noticed I'm gone yet."
A pang of sympathy echoed through me, but I kept my expression neutral, allowing him to continue without interruption. I had felt the same way sometimes about my own family.
"And as for friends... Well, let's just say that growing up in a secluded community dedicated to preserving ancient lore didn't exactly lend itself to making lifelong pals. I mean, sure, there were people I knew, but none of them were particularly close. Not really."
He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.
"My prospects for a professional career are equally bleak. I spent my entire life learning ancient languages and studying esoteric histories, thinking that I'd go off and become some sort of renowned linguist or historian. But then reality set in, and I realized that nobody gives a damn about dead languages or dusty old books anymore. At least, not anyone willing to pay a living wage."
He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. I didn't know why he ever thought it was going to be different. It should have been obvious to him that it was a dead end.
"So yeah, when I told you that I could leave here and start fresh—I wasn't being entirely truthful. Because honestly, Damon, the thought of going back to that empty house, alone and isolated, makes me want to scream."
There it was—the raw honesty I had been waiting for. I pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. I wanted to protect him and make him feel loved.
"I see," I murmured. "And what about staying here, with the Nightshade Pack? What do you think about that option?"
He hesitated, considering my question carefully. "To be perfectly honest, it terrifies me. All this nakedness, the constant displays of affection and intimacy... It's all so foreign and overwhelming. But at the same time..." He trailed off, biting his lip nervously.
There was also the fact that we weren't like most other people. We were criminals. It was dangerous to be with us, but at the same time, going back to his family was boring.
"But at the same time?" I prodded gently, wanting to hear the rest of his thoughts.
He glanced up at me, those large hazel eyes filled with uncertainty. "At the same time, I find myself craving it. This sense of belonging, of acceptance—it's something I've never experienced before. And yes, okay, maybe I'm drawn to you. To what I know you can make me feel. But more than anything, I'm terrified of losing this feeling of connection. Of being truly seen by someone for the first time in my life."
As he spoke, I felt the truth resonating within me. I knew that if given the chance, we could build something incredible together.
"That fear—that feeling of being seen—is valid," I assured him, my thumb tracing circles on his shoulder. "But know this: you will always be seen here. You will always matter. And as for the nudity, the openness... Well, that might take some getting used to, but I promise you, once you embrace it, you'll find a freedom unlike anything else."
He looked up at me, hope shining brightly in his eyes. "Do you really believe that?"
"I do," I replied firmly. "And I also believe that you deserve a second chance—a chance to create a new life for yourself, surrounded by love, support, and acceptance. A life where you can be truly free to be who you are, without fear or shame."
He searched my gaze, looking for any sign of deception. Finding none, he nodded slowly, his decision made.
"You're right," he whispered, his voice steady now. He looked calmer. "This is where I belong. With you. With the Nightshade Pack."