Upside down

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XXXVIII

Damon is waking up gasping for air. Water falls from his face and hair down to his chest and stomach. He blinks to get the water out of his eyes. “Hello, little Alpha, how are you today?”

“I’m great,” Damon growls sarcastically.

“Hmm, still fired up I see.” The man smirks. Although the space is dimly lit, he can see the lights in the man’s eyes and his white teeth as he laughs. “Have you thought about the secrets I revealed to you? Have you thought about how it could have been, if Fredric took his responsibility and accepted you as his son?”

Damon shakes his head. “No, I didn’t.”

“You know you have the right to challenge Christopher if he ever decides to become Alpha again.”

“I’m not interested!” Damon yells frustrated that the man won’t stop.

“I have a proposition for you.” The man squats down in front of Damon, his green eyes light up. “I’ll release you if you help me out. Take your revenge on Freddie, on Christopher, on everyone. Help me become Alpha of the Grey Mountains pack and I’ll make you my beta, what so you think?”

Damon raises an eyebrow to Jones. “Now, why would I settle for a beta position if I can become an Alpha instead?”

“You are the one that told me you’re not interested in the Alphaposition. I thought maybe a position with less responsibility would please you more. I could be wrong though.”

“Don’t you want your son to be your confidante?”

“Which son? Mike? He’s long dead, you were there when I killed him and Roy is conspiring with the enemy, why should I trust him?” The man’s shakes his head. “No, an Alpha like you is a man of his word. I don’t have to fear you backstabbing me.”

“Mike isn’t dead. You should check your resources. He is very much alive. And I don’t know anything about Roy’s agenda.”

“What?! The man roars. “Then I’ll have to go back and finish the job!” he scratches his chin and starts murmuring. “Shouldn’t be that hard, he should be weakened severely.”

“Do you feel nothing for your sons?” Damon shakes his head in disbelieve.

“No. They’ve turned their backs on me long ago, they’re dead to me already. Killing them only makes it permanent.”

“So, you trust me, one of your biggest enemies?”

“You’re not that big of an enemy, are you? I’ve been able to capture you. Doesn’t that say something?”

“Then why do you want me? Why me, I’m not that interesting if I’m weak, am I?”

A smirk appears on Jones’ face. “Oh, I just think it’d be fun to rub it in Freddie’s face. That one of his sons actually turned to the other side.”

The man gets up from his crouching position and takes a water bottle from a stack of bottles somewhere to Damons right. He loosens Damon’s ties on his wrists and throws the bottle into Damons lap. “Don’t even think about escaping. The minute you set foot outside that door; you’ll be riddled with bullets.” He looks at Damon with a piercing glare, following every movement Damon makes.

Damon stretches his muscles for a second, before he takes the bottle, opens it and takes a few gulps. He feels Jones’s eyes on him the whole time. “I’m not Fredric’s son.” Damon sighs and shakes his head.

Jones smirks, “still in denial?”

“I’ve got other things to think about, to worry about.”

“Your mate, whose heart belongs to another?”

Damon remains quiet, he doesn’t want to draw Jones’s attention to Sasha.

“You know, maybe it’s time to torture your mate a bit more.” Jones stalks closer to Damon.

“If her heart doesn’t belong to me, what goal does it serve to hurt me? Our bond isn’t that strong, she may not even feel it.”

“Oh,” Jones smirk widens, “but she will. A little birdie told me that she collapsed during your last torturing, that she wasn’t well and her back saw red.”

Damon shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“You should though. And if not, I’d still have my fun with you.” Jones stuffs his hands in his pocket and takes out a small knife. He lets the little light that is in the warehouse, flicker on it. “Look at this, looks beautiful huh? The handle is carved by hand, there’s only one of these.”

Damon’s gaze darkens. “Come here,” Jones says. Damon slowly moves closer. “Here, feel it.” He takes Damon’s hand and lays the blade flat on his hand.

Damon hisses. Silver.

“Hmm,” Jones takes the knife away again and walks in an agonizingly slow pace around Jones. He lets the knife tickle Damon’s left arm, then his back, his right arm, until he is back in front of Damon. Damon growls, the knife burns, but it’s not enough to actually leave a real cut or burn. Only on his back, where the wounds of the lashes haven’t fully healed yet, that hurts like a motherfucker.

Damon feels tempted to defend himself, to grab the knife and place it in Jones’s neck. But he knows he is surrounded, he knows he is a dead man when he does that, he knows that that is exactly what Jones wants.

“It’s tempting, isn’t it?” Jones steps into view and smirks again.

“What is?” Damons voice sounds somber.

“To attack me.” Jones tries to catch Damons gaze. “To take that knife from me and free yourself. I must admit that you have a lot of control, a lot of willpower, it’s remarkable.” Jones looks at his watch. “Too bad, it’s time for me to go. I need you to go sit back down. I don’t trust you enough to let you roam the place freely.” Jones places the knife in his pocket and kneels in front of the chair.

Damon sits back down reluctantly. His wolf growls, fighting to break free. To leave the place, but Damon doesn’t let him. He needs to find a way to escape this place without being noticed.

“Oh, don’t growl. I thought you had that little wolf of yours in check?” Jones raises his eyebrows while he ties Damon to the chair again. Damon sighs deeply.

Jones straightens his back and takes the knife back from his pocket. “I’ll give you something to think about until I get back.” An evil glint flashes Jones eyes and before Damon realises what’s happening, Jones takes the knife with the blade pointing down and stabs him in his upper leg. Damon roars loudly, closing his eyes to try to bear the pain.

When he opens his eyes again, Jones is gone, but the knife is still there. It burns like hell, his flesh even smells burnt.

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