Bane of My Existence

Chapter 6

She slipped off the barstool and fished through the backpack at their feet. She pulled out her phone and GPS, swiping to the pictures she had taken today and the map on the GPS. Damon was surprised by her thoroughness--and the clear trails his pack had made in the forest. He hadn't realised how predictable his trail was; he could tell which markers were his because she had labeled them with a red alpha symbol. Not only did she figure out his standing in the pack, she also knew what his favorite colour was. Which had to be a wild guess, didn't it? A coincidence, even.

He could only stare at the petite brunette, so close to him her warmth made his skin buzz. It was only when he saw her lips moving when he realised she was talking, passionately explaining her research to him. Given that she had avoided contact with him so far, he doubted she had noticed how she had sidled up to him.

He couldn't breathe. Literally. He was afraid if he inhaled her scent, his wolf would start acting crazy again, like he did the last time she was so close.

"I'm so glad Carissa asked me to do this. I'm excited to see my results."

Well, that was a bucket of ice on his balls.

He finally managed to breathe, but he didn't waste any time scenting the pure innocence of her; he was too busy fuming at that blasted name. When his breath brushed her hair, Kinsey froze for a split second then leapt away from him as if he had a contagious disease. She swiftly collected her devices and swept them into the backpack, now holding it in her lap, a barrier between them. He personally didn't mind the space, but his wolf protested and pawed at the ground in his mind, pushing him to close the gap she had made.

He ignored the repugnant beast.

"What, specifically, did Carissa ask you to do?"

Kinsey merely shrugged, avoiding eye contact. He was losing her.

Time to switch gears.

Very gently, possibly the gentlest he had ever been, he reached for her bruised cheek, knuckles grazing ever so slightly across her tender skin. He felt her face heat under his touch. With a simple stroke, he tucked her hair behind her ear, giving him a full view of her beautiful face--to the damage his men had done.

She didn't shy away from him this time, but she wouldn't look at him. The sheen in her eyes was all he needed to know how ashamed she was for the way she looked.

Damon couldn't understand it. She might not be a shifter and her sister might be an evil scientist, but she was absolutely stunning. He'd never met anyone with eyes so unique and striking like hers or hair so effortlessly soft, with a natural curl at the tip. Everything from her lips, breasts, and hips invited him to taste her.

"I'm sorry for what my men did to you," he found himself saying, his voice thick. "They were not ordered to harm you."

She swallowed, hard, still staring at the counter as if it was the one talking to her. "I know. Kalem told me. He said you don't want to hurt me. Th-they thought I was blackmailing you. I tried to tell them I wasn't.  I would never. . ." Finally, she brought her gaze up to him, tears moments away from spilling out of the corner of her eyes. "Is someone blackmailing you, Damon?"

He shook his head in the negative. He couldn't bring himself to speak. The concern for him in her tone was too much. By all rights, she should hate him and shifters for the way she had been treated. Yet she was disturbed at the idea of someone threatening him.

"Then why did they want to hurt me? Why do shifters hate me? What did I ever do to them?"

Did he tell her? Risk the only lead he had to bring down Bane?