Page 8 of Howl For A Kiss
"Your father lied to you," Damon said bluntly, his deep voice cutting through her defenses like a blade. "The question is why."
Elena's breath caught as raw hurt lanced through her chest. Why did this man's words affect her so deeply? Why did his proximity make her feel like she was standing too close to an open flame—dangerous, intoxicating, and impossible to resist?
"You're wrong," she repeated, but her voice lacked its earlier conviction.
Damon's expression softened slightly. "Elena?—"
"No," she interrupted, stepping back only to find herself pressed against the cavern wall. "I won't let you poison my relationship with my father based on your grandmother's dusty old healing books."
FOUR
DAMON
Damon watched as Elena inadvertently pressed herself against the cavern wall, her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath the tactical vest that hugged her curves perfectly. The scent of her arousal mixed with defiance created an intoxicating cocktail that made his wolf pace restlessly under his skin, demanding he claim what was his.
When she lifted her hand to push him back, he caught her wrist with gentle but unyielding fingers. Her skin burned against his palm like silk over flame, and the mate bond hummed between them with electric intensity.
"Let me go," she whispered, but she didn't pull away from his grasp. Instead, her eyes searched his with a mixture of anger and something far more troubling.
"Not until you listen," Damon replied, his deep voice rougher than intended. Standing this close, he could see the gold rings around her pupils flare with inner fire and could count each individual freckle across the bridge of her nose. His wolf growled possessively at the sight.
"My father wouldn't lie," Elena insisted, her chin tilting upward in challenge. "He has his quirks, sure. And yes, we hadplenty of fights during my rebellious teenage years. But he's no liar."
Damon forced himself to maintain his composure despite the primal urge to pin her against the stone wall and kiss her senseless. Her scent wrapped around him like invisible chains, making rational thought nearly impossible.
"Elena, tell me more about your childhood," he said, his logical mind pushing through the haze of desire. "Your father's behavior. How you lived."
She frowned, clearly reluctant to share personal details with a man she'd known for barely an hour. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Humor me." His thumb traced across her pulse point, feeling her heartbeat stutter beneath his touch. The simple contact sent fire racing through his veins.
"Fine," she snapped, though she still made no move to escape his grip. "My father raised me in an isolated cabin. Homeschooled me. Taught me survivalist skills like we were preparing for war."
Damon's suspicions crystallized into certainty. "He was paranoid."
"Overprotective," Elena corrected, but doubt flickered across her features. "He always seemed to be looking over his shoulder and keeping me within arm's reach. I just thought he had some kind of anxiety disorder."
"Or he was hiding something," Damon said gently, his heart clenching at the pain he was causing her. "Something that would put you both in danger if discovered."
Elena's breathing quickened again, her breasts pressing against her thermal top with each rapid inhalation. The sight tested Damon's control to its breaking point.
"Well, I have no proof of my mother's true nature since I never knew her," Elena continued, her voice growing smaller."But my father would have told me if she was human. That's a pretty significant detail to leave out when he told me stories about her."
"So, your father always made it seem like she was a full wolf shifter?" Damon asked, watching her carefully.
"Yes." Elena's free hand clenched into a fist at her side. "He wouldn't just fabricate her entire identity."
Damon stepped impossibly closer, eliminating the last inch of space between them. His imposing frame created a cage around her against the cavern wall, and he felt rather than saw her sharp intake of breath.
"Unless her human heritage would have meant death sentences for both of you," he said quietly, his voice dropping to a whisper that made her pupils dilate with unmistakable arousal.
The traditional pack laws were brutal regarding human-shifter unions. Imprisonment or worse for the shifter parent and execution for the hybrid offspring. Elena's father had been protecting them both through an elaborate deception.
"No, I don't want to believe that," Elena breathed, but her protest lacked its earlier fire.
Damon's wolf snarled with the need to comfort his mate and to ease the pain of this revelation. But he also recognized the importance of her accepting the truth about her nature. Her survival might depend on it.
"Your isolation, your father's paranoia, and your late manifestation," he continued relentlessly, though each word felt like a blade in his chest. "The pieces fit, Elena."
