Page 39 of Howl For A Kiss
His words struck a chord, but they also stirred up a storm of frustration. "How can I embrace any of it?" she shot back, her voice rising slightly. "I've spent my entire life trying to figure out who I am, and now I find out I'm a hybrid—some kind of bridge between worlds. I'm supposed to be the third part of a prophecy that's supposed to restore harmony? How can I do that when I don't even understand myself?"
Her hands clenched, the heat of her emotions threatening to boil over again. Damon's calm demeanor only intensified her frustration. He wasn't arguing with her, he never did. He was just listening and providing support as he'd done for the past three days. Yet it infuriated her and comforted her at the same time.
"You're not broken, Elena. Far from it," he said, his voice low and firm. "You're the embodiment of both worlds—human and shifter. That's your strength, not your weakness. But you have to stop running from it. From all of it."
His words hit like a punch to the gut. She'd spent so long running—from her father, from her past, from the truth. And now Damon was here, forcing her to confront all of it. It terrified her. She shot up from the cavern floor, pacing in front of the fire.
"Stop it," she snapped. "Just stop. You don't get to come in here and tell me how to feel or what to do. My entire life has been flipped upside down in a matter of days." She paused, taking a steadying breath. "First, my best friend is killed trying to save me. Then, my rebel base is ambushed and compromised. Next, I find out I'm a hybrid which my father hid from me my entire life, and I'm tied to some ancient prophecy. And on top of all that, you lied to me for three whole days hiding your true Beta identity and the fact that you're my fated mate."
Damon rose to his feet in one fluid motion, his height and presence dominating the space. "You're right. Maybe I shouldn't tell you what to do or how to feel after having your life flipped upside down." He stepped closer to her. "But I've lived it, Elena. And I know what it's like to feel trapped and lost, and to question every decision I've ever made. I've spent fifteen years trying to live up to a role I wasn't ready for and enforcing laws I didn't believe in. I know what it's like to feel like you're losing yourself. But I also know that running doesn't fix it. You have to face it head-on."
Elena turned to face him, her chest heaving with the force of her emotions. His words were like a mirror, reflecting her own fears and doubts back at her. She hated it. She hated how he could see through her so easily. Hated how he always seemed to know what to say and what to do.
"And what if I can't?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "What if I'm not strong enough to face it?"
Damon closed the distance between them, his hands coming up to cradle her face. His touch was firm but gentle, his fingers brushing against her skin. "You are strong enough," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through her. "You've been strong enough this whole time. You just have to believe it now."
His eyes burned with an intensity that made her breath catch. She wanted to argue, to push him away, but something inhis gaze held her captive. The firelight danced across his face, highlighting the strong angles of his jaw. Her pulse quickened as he leaned in, his breath warm against her skin.
"Stop running," he murmured. "From your past. From me. From us."
Her heart pounded in her chest, her wolf stirring with a hunger she couldn't ignore. She wanted to kiss him and to lose herself in the safety of his arms. But fear held her back this time—fear of what it meant to let him in completely.
"Damon," she breathed, her voice trembling.
He didn't say anything. Instead, his lips captured hers in a kiss that was both tender and fierce. It was a kiss that spoke of understanding, of raw emotion, of a connection that went deeper than words. Elena melted into him, her hands gripping his shoulders as the fire roared in the background, casting them in a warm, golden glow.
Damon deepened the kiss, igniting a wildfire between them, far more intense than their first. This kiss was primal and all-consuming, the kind of heat that burned through logic and fear until only raw need remained. Elena's entire body lit up with sensation, every nerve alight with the undeniable truth. Damon was hers. Had always been hers, across time and space, in ways she couldn't explain but felt in her bones.
She tore her mouth from his, gasping. "What the hell was that?"
Damon's pupils were blown wide and his breath ragged. His hands flexed against her hips, possessive even in their restraint. "The mate bond," he said, his voice thick with desire. "It's been growing stronger every hour since we met. And it's only going to get more intense—especially after I claim you."
The words should have terrified her. Instead, they sent a shudder of anticipation through her. Her wolf surged forward,hungry and impatient, drowning out every protest her rational mind could muster.
She didn't resist when his hands slid to the straps of her shoulder holster, his fingers deft as he unbuckled it. The weight of her weapons hit the cavern floor with a thud, and with each piece of gear he removed—her hip holster, her thigh straps (his touch careful around her bandaged wound), her ankle sheath—it felt like shedding armor. Not just the physical kind, but the walls she'd built around herself.
When he reached for the hem of her thermal top, his gaze locked onto hers. A silent question. She nodded, her breath catching as he peeled the fabric up and over her head. He reached for the waistband of her beige cargo pants next and unbuttoned them, gently pulling the fabric down her legs. He then removed her boots, leaving her in nothing but her white lace bra and panties. The firelight painted her skin gold, and Damon's gaze burned hotter than the flames.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, the words so raw they scraped against her heart.
Elena had never felt beautiful. Not like this—not treasured, not worshipped. But under Damon's gaze, she believed it.
His hands skimmed her waist, then higher, tracing the lace edge of her bra. "Can I take this off?"
She swallowed hard, then nodded again.
The bra joined the pile of discarded clothes, and then his mouth was on her—not just claiming, but savoring. He kissed her like he had all the time in the world, his lips trailing from her mouth to her throat, lower to her collarbone, lower still until he took one peaked nipple between his lips. She arched into him with a gasp, her fingers tangling in his brown hair.
Every touch was deliberate, and every flick of his tongue designed to unravel her. By the time he knelt before her, his hands sliding her panties down her legs, she was trembling.
His breath ghosted over the apex of her thighs, hot and teasing. "Tell me if you want me to stop."
"Don't you dare," she breathed.
The first slow lick nearly buckled her knees. Damon didn't rush—he explored her like she was something sacred. His tongue traced every fold and every sensitive spot until she was panting and her thighs shaking with pleasure. When his fingers joined, sliding inside her with torturous precision, she cried out, the sound echoing off the cavern walls.
"Damon—"
