Captive

6 // Good Evening, Miss Sinclair

I spent the next few hours painting and pacing as Damien finished up some overdue work. Who eats as late as 7 in the evening for dinner? I figured that I would sneak down to the kitchen for a snack, but grew stiff when I heard the sound of my name outside Damien's office. Lyon was in there, that much I knew. I couldn't help but eavesdrop. 

"She's not built for this, Lyon." 

"How would you know? You want to keep her cooped up in that bedroom for the rest of her life, how is she supposed to train to be our Luna?" 

"She isn't leaving this house until I say so," I could hear the anger in his voice start to filter through. 

"Your protectiveness is clouding your judgement." 

"I can't mark her!" At this point the walls rumbled with his voice. "I have to hold back, and I don't know how much longer I can do that." 

"It's going to take time--" 

"I don't have time! We don't have time, we need our Luna--" 

I felt the world freeze as his voice broke off. Before I had time to move, the door swung open to reveal me, wide-eyed, in a pair of gym shorts and a tight tank top. These were my painting clothes, but Damien's eyes clouded with lust as they grazed over me. 

"We'll talk later," he muttered to Lyon. I was swept inside as Lyon looked painstakingly at me. If I wasn't mistaken, there was pity in his eyes. 

One second, I was staring at Lyon's fading figure. The next, Damien had me by my arm and was pulling me inside his office. I had bad memories about our first encounter, and I was not in the mood for round two. 

"Hasn't anyone told you that eavesdropping isn't nice, Cyan?" His voice was dripping with anger. 

"I have to get ready for dinner, Damien," I murmured, trying unsuccessfully to pull my arm from his. He seemed to have other plans as he wrapped his arms around my torso, resting them on the small of my back right underneath my shirt. My breathing hitched, and he smirked at the effect he had on my skin. I may have not had a mate connection, but when a man as gorgeous as him touches you like that, you get a little flustered.

"I think you look ravishing just as you are, " he spoke into my hair before placing a kiss on my temple. "Too ravishing to be walking around these walls by yourself. There are unmated males walking around, you know." 

"I think I can handle myself," this time, my voice was unwavering. "I'll see you in an hour, Damien." 

*** 

God knows how long I spent rummaging through my closet. Most of my clothes were either dirty from packing last minute, wrinkled from the ride, or deemed no longer appropriate for the occasion. I settled on a colbalt blue maxi dress that cut a deep v on the neckline and fell to cover my feet. I wore simple sandals and had my long brown hair curled to frame my face. My makeup was light, and when I finally felt content with how I looked, a soft knock was placed on the door. Ace entered, and immediately smiled. 

"He's going to be so pleased." 

"A 'you look great, Cyan,' would have sufficed," I spat, rolling my eyes. The words came out harsher than I had intended. 

"You're giving him a chance, aren't you? You weren't supposed to hear that conversation..." 

"All he wants to do is mark me and keep me locked away in a tower. Do I look like Rapunzel to you?" I sighed in defeat as I looked in the mirror. "He's stripping away all my control." 

"He was nice enough to investigate about you, find your interests, and give you that beautiful studio. I came in to check on you twice today, and you didn't even know I was there. You were entranced, so don't lie to me and say that you don't love it. He could do that in all other aspects of your life if you simply let him." 

"I'm going to be late for dinner," I brushed past him and didn't turn to see his reaction. I was praying that others besides Damien would be accompanying me, but when I entered the dining hall, the long table only had two places set. He rose from his chair immediately, a blue hydrangea in his hand. 

"It's..." 

"Cyan blue," he finished eagerly. I briefly locked eyes with him, too busy smiling at the flower I held in between my fingers. "You look stunning, love." 

"You look pretty handsome yourself," I admitted quietly. He had a soft blue button up on with dark grey dress pants. As soon as I came into his life, he seemed to have found a new favorite color. I couldn't help but slightly smile at the thought. 

As we sat down to eat our food, the tension from only an hour before floated in. I was being cautious in conversation, tiptoeing around conversation topics like the weather and my family. He picked up, and his fake smile and falsified interest faded. 

"Are we going to talk, or continue talking about the sun?" He gritted through bare teeth.

"Damien..." I began, feeling myself shrink in my chair. 

"I want to know you, Cyan. I want to know everything about you. Not just the surface stuff, like your favorite color and the sports you played as a kid. I want to know what keeps you up at night, what brings tears to your eyes. I want to know your favorite books and the reason you flinch when any man even looks at you. I want to know it all." 

Before I could even open my mouth to respond, he rested his hand on my thigh underneath the table. I looked up at him, dumbfounded. Was he being serious right now? I felt my heart sink in my chest. I refused to be this submissive, I refused to simply let him conquer me.

"I met you two days ago, Damien. You're pushing me into fancy dinners and rooms across the hall because you know if you don't keep me on your arm, I won't want to spend time with you. Well guess what? I don't." 

I pushed my chair back from behind me with such force that it knocked itself over, and I made a bee line for the door. The breath got knocked out of my chest as he went back to his wall-slamming self, and pinned my wrists above my head. His hips ground into mine and I couldn't help but whimper from his proximity. His lips dipped to my neck, hovering right above my skin.

"Let me go," I begged. 

"Stop being difficult," he gritted back. "I'm trying to be the good guy here. I could just mark you and keep you chained to my bed, you know that? I could use you to produce heirs and nothing else, but you're my mate, Cyan. Like it or not, you're mine now." 

I wriggled in his grip to no avail. 

"Please, Damien," I started to fall weak in his hands from defeat.

I didn't want to rebuttle. I didn't want to argue. I knew I was my own person, and he could believe otherwise, but all that mattered was that I knew the truth. I knew better than to mess with a man like him, with an alpha like him. 

The black lust in his eyes swirled back to that bright blue, and he stumbled back as he realized what he had done. I collapsed in a puddle of blue fabric on the floor, pressing my palms firmly into the carpet as I stood on two feet again. I saw Lyon rush into the room, looking at the scene of me on the floor and Damien huffing and puffing. 

"My wolf, I--" he stuttered.

"Your wolf wants to mark me, I know," I spat. 

"Cyan, please," he begged. 

"Your mood swings are giving me whiplash, Damien. Goodnight."

I turned to go, and although he began to cry something out, Lyon held him back, and I didn't want to hear it. I wanted to recoil into my studio, and not leave for a week. 

And that was exactly what I did.