His Ellie.

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Chapter 77

The forest was oddly serene, its clam intact even after all the rage of the wolves and the Damien unleashed. In the forest clearing, Damien had stood with his back casually resting against a tree trunk, a lit cigar between his fingers as he calmly blew out smoke in the air. A few feet away, Maria sat on a boulder with, her body trembling and her eyes locked somewhere on the ground, her hands clutched in her lap.

The wolves were all on the ground which appeared to be scorched, as if the life had been out rightly sucked out of it, the grass dead, the soil turned black, the nearby trees gone lifeless. The wolves were all alive, but on their knees as they were made to kneel before Lord Damien whose eyes had turned black, his nails elongated into black claws, a wicked smile stretching on his face.

"When you're told to listen," Damien took a drag of his cigar before completing his sentence, "you shut your mouths and you fucking listen."

As a mystic of the purest bloodline, he had his gifts. Curses to be specific. And the devil had been very benevolent in blessing him. By his very essence that is. Damien had the evil in him in the very sense of the words. His affinity, gift, was Death. He didn't command the reapers because it was his duty, he did it because he could.

He had in his blood the power to command death. His blood could decay anything that at his will. The only nuisance was that his blood had to be spilt. There was a loophole in every gift, his was that he had to spill his own blood to rein death on others. The death that he could bring had made the reapers take note of him, and then soon when Damien had realized that he could see them, that he had a certain level of control on them, he tried to command them and what did he discover? That he could. And so the reapers started answering to him. They did their deeds, but when he called for them, they came forth.

The way they had the now.

All the wolves were held down at the tips of the scythes that were held down by the very reapers that Damien had called for. And if his darling didn't want a war and didn't want death on her conscience, they would have been death. To be frank, if everything went as he wished, Damien would have pulled out a genocide on the whole kind but then he would be disrupting the world's balance.

The wolves sneered and growled at them from where they stood on their knees, their eyes burning with anger.

"You won't walk unscathed out of this. Just you wait, you'll have to pay for this" one of the elders spoke. The wolves were ferocious, and had Damien not had the Devil's blood in him, he could give his word that the wolves would have chewed on his bones. But he had his soldiers, and he hadn't yet unleashed the evil in his blood, only summoned the reapers to hold the wolves down till Elle and the others arrived.

"You'd do yourselves a favor by staying quite" Damien blew out the smoke in his chest, allowing the cigar's buzz to calm his anger a bit. "I'm a second away from turning you to dust."

Silence hung heavy with melancholy, Damien was listening to the footsteps that reverberated from where Elle and Orion were returning. They were nearing him, and he prayed like hell that they arrived soon, for the sake of those wolves, he wished Elle came with that Goddess of theirs.

As he waited for them, he thought of the gift that he'd ordered for Elle. Two if he considered the ring. His Amara had liked diamonds so he had bought one of sapphire because he'd noticed that she liked blue. And although he knew she would neither wear the ring nor the any other jewelry, he had asked for a necklace to be designed, something as elegant as she was, a teardrop diamond hanging from a smooth platinum chain.

And how could he forget the tiara?

He planned on proposing her for the marriage soon, as soon as all this scenario with the wolves was settled. And he also had somewhere he needed to take her. But when she did say yes, his queen would need a tiara on her head. One with pearls and diamonds. He could imagine her, wearing a silk gown which he would strip down later on, the ring on her hand, and the golden tiara proud on her head. She would look divine with her mahogany curls running loose around her, her vibrant eyes glowing in the sun, her lips glossy and red from him kissing her breathless.

"Fuck" he muttered at the beautiful sight in his mind.

He knew exactly where he was going to take her. But he knew not what he was gonna do when her next heat came. He had promised her something and he couldn't break his word. He took a long drag and turned his head up.

'I fell in love, Amara.' he thought skywards, a gay smile on his face, ' I fell in love again.'

He'd never thought a day would arrive when he would be pondering on this. That after his Amara, he would ever feel something so strong as love for someone else. But here he was, and he did not feel as if he was betraying Amara. It took him Elle to realize that although Amara was his mate, she wasn't all his life. She didn't constitute everything that made him. That he had emotions other than what he felt for her, that he had a life with or without her. That he needed love and someone beside him for his sorrow to be shared.

And now that he pondered, had he not been so stubborn, so obstinate, he would have gotten over Amara's death way back, while still carrying his love for her and her importance in his life into the future. When someone died, he wasn't gone completely, and Damien was a fool to trap himself into the past, and her death for so long. The truth was that he was scared, and he needed an excuse. Like a child who hid behind his mother's skirting when he faced something scary, he hid behind Amara's death because he didn't have the strength to face all the loses and still carry on.

It was when he fell for Elle that he realized he still possessed a heart in his chest, which was in fact in desperate need of love and to love. That he had to live through all his emotions no matter what. That it was always a choice.

He could've crowned Elle with the same tiara that had been passed down for centuries in his bloodline. But he wanted something new for her. Wanted her tiara to signify something more than just her standing. Besides, she was in fact a Goddess, wasn't she? He had to give her something more than what was once worn by his former wife. And as he thought this, there wasn't a gaping abyss of sorrow and wallowing self pity in his heart. Just a painful sadness at what he once had and lost. Something that he had to admit felt good.

He threw the cigar as he heard them emerging from the thicket of trees, turning in their direction with a broad smile on his face. When Elle came, she came to a halt with a shock ridden face. Her eyes going wide and her mouth going lax. Her green eyes looked at the wolves, and then the cloaked reapers and then when she could gain a hold of her senses and mind again, she looked at him.

He went to her with a sure stride, knowing in his heart that he had a right on her, and took her in his arms, kissing her lips.

Funny how the wolves didn't seem to matter and he still hadn't taken a note of the Goddess who had come with his Elle. Only the goddess who was his by virtue and who was in his arms.

The cursed Damien felt blessed for his second chance with Elle as their lips parted.

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