CHAPTER THREE
(DAMIAN'S POV)
"Doesn't feel so good." I hear a voice say beside me, making me sigh. I look out through the window at the clouds as our plane flies through it.
"Yeah, especially at a funeral. Such a pity I wasn't there to see his face as he breathed his last. Beasts aren't meant to have a befitting funeral." I spit coldly.
My brother says nothing, patting my shoulders instead.
The hostess comes over at that moment, bowing respectfully. "We are about to land, can you tighten your seatbelts?" She says, and leaves.
"Whether we feel good or not, this is going to be great. Our enemy is dead." I hear my brother, Daemon say. I chuckle coldly.
Hearing him speak, like we are talking about the weather, hell like eating and drinking amused me. It makes it seem like we aren't talking about the death...of our father.
...
The hall is full of guests, invited from different packs to witness the funeral procession of the 'benevolent,' Alpha.
We stand in a corner, cold expressions on our faces. I watch as Daemon swirls the drink in his hand gracefully.
"You're drinking? Isn't it quite disrespectful?" I hear a voice say behind us, making my heart tickle. It is a foreign feeling, one I haven't felt before.
I turn to see a quiet young woman with an odd expression on her face. She is dressed in a black outfit, yet she looks breathtaking. Her warm eyes darted from me to my brother, her hands gracefully clasped in front.
"And I believe it's none of your business, is it?" Before I can say a word, Daemon beats me to it. His voice is harsh and domineering.
I watch the woman closely, not missing the surprised look that crosses her eyes. She blinks her long lashes, arching her perfect brows. However, another odd look crosses her face. I can't place what it is though. It looks almost like the look you give someone when you hate the person. Positive we've never met before, I push the thought away.
"I believe there's time for everything. What pack are you from?" She asks softly, and my hands balled into fists. There it goes... The feathery feeling.
"Pack?" Daemon scoffs and walks away. I'm tempted to follow him, get away from this beautiful woman standing in my front. Her scent wafts into my nostrils at that moment, making me want to draw her close and inhale deeply. I wonder what pack she is from, however, too prideful to ask, I keep my lips pursed.
"I'm Anya, the Luna of this pack, and mate to the late Alpha." She introduces herself. And at that moment, it feels like a buzzing noise is sounding in my ears.
She is my father's mate? My stepmother? I feel a lump at the back of my throat. I know our father remarried, however, I am not expecting her to be...so young and attractive.
I look into her soft eyes, and gulp. However, I am sure my face held a bland expression.
"Good to know," I mumble and walk away, not bothering to introduce myself. I'd do so later. At that moment, I need to get to Daemon.
I see him standing close to the fountain once I walk out. He isn't aware of my presence, till I get close and clear my throat.
"She is beautiful." He says and turns back to the fountain. I don't say a word, contemplating if I should divulge the information that she is our stepmother to whom we have extended the hate we have for our late father.
However, seeing how beautiful she looks, I'm not sure if I feel that way anymore.
"Are you listening, Damian?" Daemon's voice cuts into my thoughts.
"Yeah."
"Yeah, what?" He probes, turning to look at me.
"She is our stepmother. Let's head back." I finally say, and seeing the look on his face, I'm tempted to laugh.
...
Anya is seated on the throne meant for the Luna when we walk in. She stands up to address the crowd.
"Thank you all for coming over. We may now begin the ceremony in memory of our late Alpha." And with that, she sits down.
"What are you doing? These seats are meant for the Alpha's sons." Anya says once we take our places beside her. We don't say a word, and when I turn to look at her again, she blinks. Realization dawns on her, as she turns her face awkwardly.
It is all I can do, to stop myself from pulling her into my arms. How can someone look so breathtaking?
"You can drink now if you want to." She whispers, with an awkward smile. One which I don't reciprocate.
"I believe you aren't in the position to tell us what to do." And once again, Daemon beats me into speaking first.
She recoils, in embarrassment. I turn to Daemon, who shrugs without an iota of guilt. He probably hates her. Or so I think.
"How did he die?" I say calmly, and she jolts.
"Are you talking to me?" She asks, looking puzzled, yet innocent.
"I believe there is no one else close to my father, is there?" I retort, tapping my fingers on the armrest of the golden-colored chair
"The doctor said he died of a heart attack." She says, bending her hair, her beautiful hair shielding her face.
"So, cunny foxes do have heart attacks? Great." I say, with a harrumph.
"Pardon?" She whirls to look at me.
"Aren't you too young to be my stepmother?" I ask cruelly. Watching as her face turns a shade redder in anger, makes my chest tighten.
I didn't mind though. She is my father's mate, and that makes her my enemy. However, I can't deny the fuzzy feeling in my heart.
"Both of you can handle the rest of the ceremony, no? I'll be in my room." And with that, she hurries out of the hall.
"What did you say to her?" Daemon asks calmly.
"Well.." I sigh yet again. Whatever feeling it is I am feeling, I am positive it isn't going to end well. Am I having a thing for my stepmother just at first sight?
An hour later, sitting in the hall, feeling quite angered, everything looks irritating.
"Why don't we get away from here? The guests will be fine on their own." Daemon suggests. I second. I can't bear sitting where people celebrated the one who caused us so much hurt in the past.
It feels so good knowing that the one who made our mother die, is also dead.
'Just Moon goddess.' I think inwardly.
"Let's go."
The following morning dawns bright and clear. I sit up on the bed, massaging my temple. I don't remember heading over to the bedroom the previous night.
Daemon And I had gone over and drunk ourselves into a stupor. How we walked to the bedroom would remain a mystery, I guess.
"Wake up, Daemon." I tap on his shoulders, without turning. I frown, however, when a thought crosses my mind.
I turn to see a figure I am not expecting to see. Sprawling on the bed is Anya. A peaceful expression is plastered on her face, her chest heaving softly. A blanket covers her, leaving her shoulders bare. I turn my face away, feeling a certain part of me getting hot.
At my side, is Daemon. I put two and two together, and groan at the realization of what might have happened the previous night. Drunk, we had entered the room we thought was ours.
'Shit.' I curse inwardly, shaking Daemon lightly. He grunts softly and turns to his side.
"Daemon, we have to get out of here." I breathe harshly, still watching her, afraid she might wake up. The last thing I want is to cause a misunderstanding with our soon-to-be enemy.
Thankfully, Daemon's eyes flutter open, and he sits up. He has the same expression on his face, when he sees the figure on the bed, alongside us.
He doesn't ask for an explanation, figuring it out instead. "Let's get out of here." He mutters.
I'm halfway up when I suddenly lose my footing and fall back to the bed.
'Shit,' I curse, and try to hurriedly get up. However, my flustered action makes her wake up.
"What are you..." Her soft voice says, before letting out a yell. Reflexively, my hand flies to her mouth, my hand at the back of her head.
"What are you trying to do?" I turn to Daemon, gesturing for him to move out first. He remains stoically in one position.
Sensing her calm down, I move my hand away from her mouth, relishing the soft feel of her soft lips beneath my hands.
"It's a misunderstanding. We were drunk last night, and we ended up in your room." I apologize for forcing the words out. I have never apologized in my entire life.
The look in her eyes clearly says she didn't believe us. She remains silent for a moment, and when she finally speaks again, I am taken aback by the harshness in her tone.
"Get out this instant."