Control

**Damon**
My eyes inspected each one of the ghastly marks on my brother's skin, and slowly, I began attaching the different memories to the different scars- the one across his chest, when he stood in front of me to stop my father from hitting me, the deep scar stretching around his torso from when he lifted up his arms and twisted his body in front of my mother. Lucien was right, he had been the punching bag, and his disfigured skin was proof enough of it.
"I did so much for you, Damon. How could you betray me like that, after everything we'd been through?" His voice was now shaky, and I could tell he was in pain, severe, deeply rooted pain. Lucien had spent all of his life bottling up all of what he had been feeling, hiding all of these scars and smiling his pain away. And now, it was overflowing, seeping through the cracks of the facade he kept up and exposing the broken man beneath. I had no reason to feel sorry for him... no, I should *not* have felt sorry for him. But as I stared up into his golden eyes, I could not help it because I realised then that he was right, and I was wrong. I had betrayed him, in more ways than one. I knew he wanted the title of Alpha, and I knew he deserved it, but when the will came through, I saw it as my only option to redeem myself. I also betrayed him in not allowing him to carry out the vengeance he so rightly owed Jasmine... in fact, I'd betrayed her too. And finally, I'd betrayed him by ignoring the clear signs of his pain, and for never looking for him after he'd left. Of course, my pity for him could not outshine the fact that he'd murdered the people I cared about, but it was enough to get me to understand. And so, barely able to get it out of my mouth, I uttered out softly, "I'm sorry, Lucien."
Lucien froze from his process of shrugging his shirt back on and slowly, his eyes widened before they narrowed in anger.
"Sorry? You were never supposed to have said that to me, Damon. You shouldn't be sorry. I don't need you to be sorry. Have you forgotten? I've let your friends die. I've tortured you and broken you. I think by now, we're even."
But I could tell that he didn't believe what he was saying himself, and so I reached forward and placed my hand on his. "Landon, Loren and Jade. Those are the people you've taken from me. The lives you've taken. That will never be on my conscience, Lucien, it will be on yours. I'd be lying if I said I didn't resent you for it, if I didn't feel like killing you right now for everything you've done to Jasmine and me. But I won't, because you're right, Lucien. I have betrayed you. And if what you're saying is true, then I understand why you feel the need to do this, but don't think, for a second, that I won't have my vengeance on you. You will pay for the things you've done, Lucien."
But Lucien did not seem frightened, or even offended by what I'd said. Instead, he squeezed my hand tightly, frightening me, and said softly, "Believe me brother, I know."
But as soon as the look of sincerity appeared on his face, it left, being replaced by the deep, intense look it had previously held.
"Back to what I was saying, after I did myself the dreadful dishonour of turning into an emotional wreck, my humble apologies. After you'd taken the position of Alpha, I decided to leave the pack, disheartened, depressed by the passing of your mother... my mother, and I resorted to occupying my mind with Jasmine. By then, however, she'd dropped clean off the face of the Earth and I began the ordeal of searching, which was quite difficult because I assumed you'd be a werewolf, like your mother. While I searched, I also began spending most of my time researching about her and her family and their history, hence my knowledge regarding who you are, my little Vixen. It was the only thing that allowed me to move forward, the little girl I'd rescued. Eventually, I'd almost given up all hope of ever finding you, of ever seeing your face, and then one day... there you were in the alley. That was the day I saved you, and the day you saved me. I can still remember the feel of your soft skin on mine as your body trembled against me. You smelled like you'd never seen a shower in years, but I didn't care because you felt so... soft and real and, when I held you, it felt as though I'd attained a precious treasure. Admittedly, the thought of keeping you to spite Damon crossed my mind, and yes, it was a big contributing factor to me taking you in. But there were other things. When I looked into your eyes, I just... I felt a connection to you, one I'd never ever felt with anyone else. It was almost as though I were looking at my very own-"
"-Reflection." The word left Jasmine's lips and I stared at her, partially unsettled by the turn this conversation had taken, and partially fascinated by it all.
Lucien gazed up at her, waited a moment and then nodded before continuing.
"I knew then that I *needed* you in my life. And the need to have you near only grew stronger the more we spent time together. You see, Jasmine, you made me forget about everything. You made me forget the pain of my father's lashes which still stung at my skin every time I gazed into the mirror. You made me forget all of the people I killed for, and with him, with a simple laugh. You were, to me, my very own saviour and I thought, if I had you in my life, I'd need no one else. Not my brother whom I'd left. Not my sister who, for years had tried searching for me. You were everything to me... at some point in time, I thought you were just like me. We were so damn similar- over emotional, scarred, broken, lost and yet still we tried to get through the day with a fake smile on our faces. But the similarities between us grew much deeper, darker and stretched into the desire you dream about between your legs-"
"Lucien, you better watch your words carefully," I uttered, now angry and... admittedly quite jealous.
Lucien rolled his eyes and said, "Relax, brother. Goodness. That's why you were never invited to any of my fancy parties, such a stick in the mud. As I was saying, I could tell that Jasmine was not one to submit, which was understandable given her childhood circumstances. When you live like Jasmine did, there is no way you can survive without taking control of yourself and the things around you. And thus, I grew the genius idea of creating an organisation, one for women like Jasmine, in honour of Jasmine and her strength: The Vixens, after her nickname. Back then I lied to you, Jasmine, telling you that you needed to repay me, as a way to keep you with me when you were so ready to escape. I think that's where it went all downhill for me, when you decided to leave. I'd never felt so like my father at that point in my life, and it terrified me. I was afraid of becoming him, of doing to you, what he did to your mother. And so, when you began asking for freedom, I reluctantly gave it to you. But I didn't quite account for the repercussions. You were the only thing keeping me sane and whole, and so when you left, the ghost of Ambrose took your place, and this is what he's turned me into. I've killed and killed and tortured and broken and made it all a game. And why? Why have I done it. Why have I put you through hell, Jasmine? Why have I played this game with you? Come on, you should know."
I turned towards Jasmine, curious of the answer and at the same time astounded and disturbed by the similarities between the two. Even now, it seemed they were in their own world of possibilities, emotions, calculating, adding up every single memory, event and situation until they were to reach a final, coherent answer.
Eventually, she bit her lip and widened her eyes, finally reaching the answer. My heart thudded rapidly against my chest and I realized that I was just as wrapped up in what was coming out of Lucien's mouth as she was.
"Control."
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Stay safe! Stay healthy! Sendin all of my love!