Chapter 8: Close contact

Hazel’s eyes flew open.

“You…are injured?” She asked, staring at him. But seeing how close he was to her, she almost could not resist putting a distance between them.

Damien smirks under the mask, “Sharp nose.”

Actually, with his state, he should not have come, especially when she was still here.

But he just found himself finding his way here. He could not control it.

Was it the mate bond? But why can’t she feel anything?

Why was it just him?

Damien leaned down slowly to her length, and their eyes met. “What, does it scare you?” He asks, his lips curling into a smile that did not reach his eyes.

Hazel froze, her eyelashes trembling slightly.

Subconsciously, Damien’s eyes shifted from her brown eyes downwards to her red, parted lips and his eyes darkened slightly, lingering on that spot longer than he would ever have wanted.

He could not help but wonder if her lips were as soft as they looked and when he realized where his thoughts were going, he stood up abruptly.

But then, he staggered.

Hazel gasped as she watched this. Her instincts warned her to run, but her body moved on its own. She flung the covers over her body away and rose to hold his arm.

“You are bleeding.” She pointed out, her voice trembling slightly as she stared at the blood trail at the corner of her lips.

“Let go.” Damien ordered coldly, but Hazel did not listen.

“Looks like you don’t want your life anymore.” She commented mockingly, but her hands did not let go of him.

Hazel does not know what she was doing as well.

Damien glanced at the little woman supporting him and he almost laughed despite himself. When has he ever needed someone’s help?

Something flashed in his eyes and he suddenly stood straight, pushing Hazel against the wall.

The sudden development of things pushed Hazel in a daze and she only reacted when Damien moved closer to her.

“W…what are you doing?” She asked, ignoring the flutter of her chest seeing the smile in his eyes.

Damien moved even closer, decreasing the space between their bodies to almost zero. Hazel quickly placed her palm on his chest to push him back.

“What am I doing?” He asked softly, then chuckled. “Dressed like this while waiting for me, it seems you are ready for what we are doing tonight.”

Hazel furrowed her brows and glanced down at herself, then suddenly froze.

It was unknown when the sleeves of her dress were pulled downwards, showing her pale neck and a little bit of the skin on her chest.

Damien glanced at her chest and his throat went dry for some reason.

“You…stop looking.” She stuttered, trying to cover herself. Then remembered that her palms were pressing on Damien’s chest to stop him from moving closer, if she removed her hand, he would only get closer.

Hazel did not know what to do and Damien did not give her the chance.

He lowered his head slowly, warm breath brushing against her skin.

“W…what…”

Then his lips touched her neck. It wasn’t rough, just a gentle, light contact.

Yet, it made Hazel’s breath catch in her throat.

Her fingers curled around the lapels of his shirt, her eyelashes trembling with a more violent intensity.

Damien inhaled, taking in the scent that had wafted into his nostrils several times already. It made him curious, curious about how she would taste.

What he had in plan was to force her to submit, and not like this. But he could not understand what was going on with him.

Something oddly familiar bloomed in her chest, as though her body remembered the touch that her mind did not.

Her body slipped and if Damien had not reacted swiftly by encircling her waist with his arm, she would have fallen to the ground.

Damien’s black eyes were even darker and could drip with ink. He raised his second hand and his fingers grazed the side of Hazel’s soft chest.

He pressed his lips against her neck and nibbled gently, not using any force.

Hazel's eyes fluttered shut, her body reacting oddly to his touch.

In her mind, she knew this should stop. She knew she needed to push him away before things got out of hand, but her hands and legs were not listening to him.

A whimper escaped her lips as he exerted a little force on her neck, and it made Damien’s eyes narrowed when he heard it.

He retreated slightly.

Now, their lips were just inches apart.

Just a single move and their lips would touch.

Then…

Damien’s pupil shrank and he stepped back abruptly like a man who had been scalded by fire.

Hazel swayed, barely able to steady herself against the wall. Her skin was still warm from where he had touched her.

‘What just happened?’ She mumbled inwardly, still in a daze.

“You…” She tried to speak, but could not find the right words to say.

“Sleep,” He ordered. “Tomorrow, you will be moved to another place.”

“Why?” The words had already slipped past her lips before she could stop it.

Being in a separate place from him was exactly what she wanted, so why was she asking for the reason? Isn’t it for the best?

Damien turned to her slowly and smiled, “Willing to be my sex slave?”

Hazel's temper rose instantly, “In your dreams!” She spat.

“What, you did not reject my touch earlier, you even seem to like it.” He commented and Hazel pressed her lips together.

“You are sick.” She said coldly.

Damien turned around and began to leave the chamber.

“I guess I am really sick.” He mumbled to himself, shutting the door behind him.

He could no longer remain in that chamber. Her scent was doing things to him, it was making him lose control and he does not like it.

He does not like not being in control.

She was the first woman to ever speak to him in such a manner, and yet, he could not even get angry.

No woman had ever slept on his bed, but seeing her there, he didn’t feel the repulsion he thought he would have.

…

“Your condition is deteriorating, my lord.” The physician said as he added herbs to the gruesome wound on Damien’s back.

Hazel was right. He was really injured.

“It will heal.” Damien said flatly and the physician frowned.

“You are healing slower than before. It is taking too long. However, why does it seem like your mood is stabilizing? Shouldn’t your monthly phase start today?” Physician Albert asked in bafflement and Damien lowered his head.

Albert stared at him, his fingers pausing over the blood-soaked bandages, “Did something happen or someone?”

“I don’t know.” Damien replied.

“It is the full moon tonight. The madness should have started already. Your temper rises, your strength increases and your healing slows. But tonight, apart from the normal slow healing, you seem…calm.”

Damien’s jaw clenched.

A face flashed in his mind.

Brown eyes, lithe frame and defiance visage.

And that scent. Like vanilla.

Albert, who was not just Damien’s personal physician but also his friend, knew Damien the most.

“You know the reason, right?”