9: The body wants what the mind and heart doesn't
**Jasmine**
The next day was much the same as the previous and admittedly I slept through most of it. I was beyond tired and in pain, feeling aches all over my body, and the unrelenting lethargy creeping in. It was only at night-time, when I smelled him, that my senses awakened.
He entered through the door quietly and then locked it behind him. Throughout, I kept my eyes on him, never once blinking and he did the same.
"So, have you rethought my offer?" His voice was calm, yet threatening, and his eyes, which were once neutral now had the look of a madman in them. This Damon, I was not familiar with. Nonetheless, I still planned on standing my ground. Although physically, I was weaker than him, there was no way I was going to show any sign of weakness. And so, despite my shivering limbs, I managed to stand on my feet and glared up at his intimidating form with crossed arms.
"No, my answer remains the same. I will not be your captive."
And with that he let out a loud roar and his eyes flashed red and then hazel as he ran his clawed fingers through his hair in utter frustration. He then gripped the chair which stood in the corner and smashed it on the ground, causing the wooden legs to crack and break off. Terrified was an understatement to how I felt as I gazed at the livid Damon, and I found myself slowly backing away from him. It only made him sneer at me and laugh.
"You know how pathetic I find you, right?" He then paused for a second, awaiting a response which I refused, before continuing. "I hated you so much because you were so weak, fragile and human. The only thing I did find less repulsive, was the extent to which I could control your human little life and make it utterly miserable. However, now I hate you more. Although I see that you are able to stand up for yourself, it doesn’t change the fact that you're a filthy little Vixen who provides pleasure to dirty little people. And that's not the worst part. You were a Vixen without me knowing or consenting to it.""
By now I was shivering as I watched him near me. I hated this. I hated being so afraid of him and so submissive. In all fairness, I was never trying to dominate Damon, that was just part of my job. What did irk me though, was the fact that he thought I was not even at least on equal standing with him and the fact that I needed his permission for everything.
"Do you know," he continued, "that if you remained human, I would never have even told you anything. Seeing as you avoided me, the mate bond would never have had time to activate in you, and you would have never known. See, that was my plan. To watch you suffer, day by day. I would never leave you and I would always torment you no matter where you went. Why do you think the only job you were offered was at my company? After I found out you and I were mates, I made sure you'd go nowhere else. I made sure you stayed in your cosy little apartment, had your cosy little job. Everything about your life, was controlled by me- except one little, tiny thing. Your life, Jasmine, is literally in my hands, but now that you are a werewolf, you are somewhat worthy of being my mate, of being a Luna. So, you can thank your lucky little stars that I saved you from your miserable little human life, and I turned you into something meaningful and useful to me."
By now the tears were streaming down my face as I realised the extent to which my life did not belong to me at all. I had no freedom, no space, no free will. It was not just Lucien who had held me captive, but Damon as well.
After a few more heavy breaths from Damon and a few growls here and there, he seemed to have finally calmed down. I, however, was far from calm and a shaking, shivering mess in front of him.
"Even now." He said panting and gazing down at me, as though I were a mere ant to him. "You are so weak in front of me..."
But I knew I was not weak, well at least not as weak as he was making me out to be. And so, without even thinking, I pounced on him with a loud growl ripping from my chest.
"You have taken everything from me!" And then began the string of punches and as I punched, I screamed at the top of my lungs, yelling how much I hated him and how much I wished I had never even gone to work for his company. Damon, however, stared at me with 'bored' written all over his face as my punches made no impact on him. Instead, he grabbed my fist mid-air and held it there tightly. But it was the force which his fingers held around mine that truly terrified me- a blatant reminder that if he wanted to, he could shatter my entire hand. But he didn’t. Instead, Damon pushed me off of him and shook his head.
"Honestly Jasmine, you are pathetic…" But he did not walk away and slam the door shut like I expected him to. Instead, he moved towards me and, despite my shrinking away from him, he grabbed my chin and lifted my head up so that I was now staring into his deep red eyes which illuminated against the darkness of the room.
"…and yet," he moved closer towards me, making my breath catch in my throat and my body begin to yearn for more of his touch involuntarily, "I can't help the fact that the werewolf part of me wants you so badly." He let out a low growl, just inches away from my lips. I sat in anticipation, awaiting his soft lips to make contact with mine. But it was not me wanting him at this point, it was something within me- a beastly force. And so, when his lips finally did touch mine in a sweet gentle movement, I found myself crying. I was crying, not because I was happy, nor because I was sad. I was crying because as he kissed me, I realised that the pain had left, sending my body into a state of relief. I found myself drawn more and more to him, to this state of absent pain. He pulled away after my tears began falling on his crouched legs and looked at me with a tilted head.
"Why are you crying?" But I could not answer, as a wave of pain hit me, and I began to understand exactly how my body was working. It seemed to have developed a bit of dark humour, only allowing me to feel relief when he was touching me intimately, and immediately punishing me for his absence. But I could not entertain such an idea- the idea of needing him. And so, after a few deep breaths, I finally mustered up the strength to ask him to leave. He was hesitant at first, but after I stood up and walked away from him, towards the window which I stared out of, he finally got the hint. It was then that he left with anger, slamming the door shut and locking it violently. And as I stared out of that window, legs now shaking, skin, gums and fingertips on fire, I made a silent oath to myself. One of freedom and choices.
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