Chapter 79: Bickering Princes
"Have you noticed anything weird about Soren?" Ares asked Damon who was lounging against the door frame of their shared sitting room.
He had not been able to get Soren’s comment about everything being over soon.
His father may trust his Beta but Ares knew enough about betrayal to want to piece together what that meant.
"When has he never been an old weird man" Damon shrugged.
Cassian walked into the room, nodded at his brothers before taking a seat.
Damon could feel the crackling tension between Cassian and Ares. He had felt it building for days, ever since Ares had returned from the border and found Cassian’s mark on Ayla’s neck. The two of them had been circling each other like wolves over a fresh kill.
"So," Damon drawled. "Which one of you is going to be taking Ayla as her escort?"
Ares did not even look up from his wine. "Is it not obvious?"
"What is obvious is how well you seem to be in your delusion." Cassian retorted.
Ares’ jaw tightened.
"I am not going to do this with you, brother."
"Neither am I, brother." Cassian shot back. "What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be out there figuring out how to end the attacks in the pack? Aren’t you next in line to be Alpha?" He mocked.
"Cassian..." Damon interjected.
"No" Ares cut in. "Let him say what he has to say to me."
He turned to Cassian, his green eyes flashing.
"At least I am out there on the front lines while you cower in your little healing chamber brewing goddess knows what."
"Cut it out, both of you." Damon jumped in, no longer enjoying the trouble he had tried to steer up.
His brothers have had their fair share of fights but none that has made them trade hurtful words like this to one another."
"Warn him to watch his tongue"
"Or what, Ares?" Cassian scoffed. "What will you do?"
"You know," Damon interjected, pushing off the door frame, "I cannot help but notice that neither of you has asked the most important question."
Both brothers turned to look at him.
"And what is that?" Ares snapped.
"Whether Ayla actually wants either of you to escort her."
The silence that followed was deafening and Damon let the moment stretch, savoring the looks on their faces.
"I thought so." He said. "Neither of you has considered what she wants. You have been too busy fighting over her like she is a prize to be won, but she is a person and she might have her own opinion on the matter."
"She wants me." Ares said, but there was uncertainty creeping into his voice.
"Does she?" Damon tilted his head. "Does she really?"
Ares’ jaw tightened.
"Enough." Cassian’s voice cut through the air. "So how do we figure out who escorts Ayla to the banquet?"
"I propose you ask her." Damon said simply.
Ares stared at him. "Ask her?"
"Yes, Ares. She should have a say in who she walks with."
"Fine, I will ask her although I am pretty sure she is going to choose me."
"Choose you?" Cassian let out a bitter laugh. "She will not be choosing you."
"Enough!" Damon’s voice thundered through the room, startling them both into silence.
He ran a hand through his hair, his chest heaving. "I cannot do this with both of you."
He turned toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Ares demanded.
"Somewhere I can breathe without having to listen to the two of you act like fucking children."
Damon walked out, finding himself at the edge of the compound.
He wanted to ask Ayla. He wanted to walk beside her, to have her hand on his arm, to feel the warmth of her presence next to him but he already knew what her answer would be.
She had made it abundantly clear what she thought of him. The words she had hurled at him in the garden still echoed in his mind.
He had deserved that. He knew he had. He had been a monster to her, had tormented her for years, had nearly taken what she had not offered and no amount of good deeds could erase that.
He hated that he could not move on. He had tried, to bury his feelings for her beneath a mountain of wine and women and reckless nights but had failed every time.
He would be kissing some girl, her hands in his hair, her body pressed against his, and his mind would drift. He would wonder what Ayla would think if she saw him like this. He would remember her words about him being the man he was... an evil person.
He was pining. He, Damon Rykeron, the playboy prince who had never wanted for female company, was pining after an Omega who had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him.
It was pathetic and humiliating.
The man he had been a month ago would have laughed at the idea of caring about anyone’s feelings but his own but now, he found himself thinking about Ayla constantly. He wanted her to smile at him the same way she did, his brothers.
He wanted to prove her wrong. He wanted to show her that he was not the same man who had tormented her, that he could be better, that he was better.
But how could he prove anything to her when she would not even look at him?
A voice cut through his thoughts.
"Damon?"
He turned to find Celeste standing a few feet away, a coy smile on her lips. She was dressed in a flowing gown that left little to the imagination.
"I was looking for you," she said, stopping beside him. "I have been meaning to ask you something."
"Celeste." He inclined his head, his voice flat. "What do you want?"
She stepped closer, her hand coming up to rest on his arm. "The banquet is tomorrow. I was hoping you might consider being my escort."
Damon stared at her. A month ago, he would have said yes without hesitation. Celeste was beautiful, willing, and knew exactly how to please a man. She had been one of his regular companions, one of the many women who had warmed his bed over the years.
But now, the thought of taking her to the banquet, of having her on his arm and letting the pack whisper about Ayla’s inadequacies at keeping her mates made his stomach turn.
"No."
Celeste’s smile faltered. "No?"
"I cannot be your escort, Celeste."
"Why not?" She stepped closer, her fingers trailing up his arm. "We have always had fun together, Damon. And I thought..."
"I am not interested."
Celeste’s face went pale, then flushed with anger. "Not interested?"
"I am sorry." Damon said, and he meant it. "I do not mean to hurt you. But I cannot be what you want."
"What I want?" Celeste laughed. "This is about that lowly Omega, isn’t it?"
"Watch your words, Celeste."
Celeste’s eyes widened. "Oh, I see. You are in love with her."
"I am not..."
"You are." Celeste’s voice was cold. "You are in love with the Omega, and you cannot even admit it to yourself. You are pathetic."
She turned and walked away, her gown billowing behind her.
Damon stared after her for a long moment.
Was she right? Was it love he felt for Ayla?