Scars of my Past!!
Damon's POV
Present-day (Full Moon Day)
"No!" I jerked up from my nightmare of that black-veiled mage commanding me to bring her doppelgÀnger. I was all naked and panting on my huge four-poster bed with a canopy pushed against the wall, with a naked woman beside me. Intricately carved wooden nightstands bracketed the bed, and a large double-door wardrobe across the room bore the same design. I got up on my feet and moved towards the floor-to-ceiling window covering the east and south side walls, walking over the maroon rug that spanned most of the floor. I sniffed in the air's freshness, trying to control my sped heartbeats.
For the last few days, something strangely unsettling has been surging in my life beyond control. A strange uneasiness and anxiety were enveloping my body in its icy embrace, crawling under my skin. My wolf Drakon also sensed it, and since then, it has become edgy, temperamental, and capricious. Some days, it completely shuts out from me, whereas on other days, it creeps and squirms on every inch of the surface of my skin to take complete control over me. I never felt something like that in my life; my instincts roar that something strange, unexplained, is bound to happen.
These strange sensations ended up with me having different females in bed every night. I just permitted myself to fuck. I find this hugely liberating. Nothing diminishes anxiety faster than action. The action here refers to females kneeling on their knees between my naked thighs, taking in my cock deep inside their throat till they choke out of air.
I looked over at the naked woman on my bed. I didn't even know her name, as if I cared. It was hard to guess if she was just in deep sleep or passed out because of the cessation of her movements. Red bites marks appeared as the swollen stings all over her body, predominantly on her breasts and thighs.
She screamed, begged me, pleaded with me, yelped in pain after the number of orgasms she passed through, through the passaging night, but my monstrosity took over me, and my canine ears heard no cries, my ruthless heart devoid of any mercy.
I settled on a chair beside my work desk, going through the paperwork for a new business plan. My eyes fell upon the magazine cover. My first ever photo is on a public platform.
"Damon Sandalio- mysterious, camera-shy and the most eligible youngest billionaire, heir of the biggest archaeology company, and dealer in Ancient and Medieval Arts- is an inspiration for many young entrepreneurs."
"Fuckers", I snarled.
I would have never come into the limelight, but Richtor- my beta and Mariska- my omega convinced me otherwise.
I opened a small secret drawer under my desk, stretching my back and yanking my neck muscles back and forth to loosen my stiffness. My hands clutched tightly on an envelope in the drawer, fingers and knuckles as white as a ghost, drained out of the blood. My body was trembling, and Drakon growled agitatedly. I took out a portrait of a woman: my woman, my mate, my Luna, Anna.
"It was many, many years ago, there lived a princess, the most innocent and divine form of soul, by the name of Anna. All the brief life she knew was to love me and be loved by me. We were both young, but we loved with a love that was more than a love, swayed in our heaven. Until one day, the cruel winds blew out chilling darkness, bringing with it a set of unfortunate events. A black-veiled mage, reeking of unworldly powers, took my Anna away from me and sent her to the gates of hell for eternity to suffer, to be dipped repeatedly into the solitude of darkness. My people and I were also cursed and became the most terrific form of a werewolf, a ghost wolf on every full moon night. The ghost wolves are deadly creatures with unmatched powers, undefeatable agility and aplomb tensile strength, almost like a spirit. However, the strength comes with minds clouded with rage and aggressiveness up to where it blocks the ability to differentiate friends and enemies, killing everyone or anyone on the way".
The stress transformed my concerned expressions into dangerous ones. My eyes camouflaged from their usual blue to black ones. I pounded upon that naked female with my hungry cock deep inside her core. She moaned, looking at me with her widely opened hazel eyes. My hands clenched around her wrist to hold her in place. I banged and whacked into her with shooting mobility. Darkness took over me with little control. Her body sizzled as a deep orgasm erupted from within her.
Suddenly, I heard a gush of wind, "Damon, stop". It was my angel Anna's voice inside my mind. I released that woman. My body also released itself of all the tension built inside, my hot jerk cuming on her stomach and thighs.
"Get out," I said, moving away from her. With no second thought, she grabbed her clothes and ran away from my room as far as she could. I let out an enormous sigh.
I spend the rest of my whole day browsing through various files, documents stacked on my desk, meetings with employees and scouting, touring through our working sites, and getting updates on our dealings from Richtor and Mariska.
"Three of our diggers lost their lives under the debris of the burial site of King Nacro, but we were lucky enough to lay our hands on his ornate combat sword." Richtor filled in as we were walking through the tunnels in the ruins of our latest dig- a lost ancient city of Artena near the town of Campo, Argentina.
"Cover up the whole thing. No word should go out. Compensate well to their families, well enough to keep their mouths shut for the rest of their lives. As for all the remaining witnesses, keep them under your nose. If anyone tries to run away, then set for a hunt and aim for a kill," I sneered ruthlessly, piercing my emotionless eyes through the ruins of ancient houses, showing my dominance.
"Sir", Richtor nodded, his mind already pondering the ways to fulfil my instructions.
I took a deep breath, taking the surrounding damp air inside my flaring nostrils, "Today is a full moon day. I will be in the dungeon before dusk embarks into the night. There should not be a single soul around."
"Sir", Richtor understood what I meant, his head submitting to my commands.
It was almost dusk. The full moon and stars were ready to take over the setting sun. I looked at my naked self in a life-sized mirror hanging on the dungeon wall. My olive skin was deeply tanned, showcasing my bulky, muscular, sculpted body. My crewcut dark hair on top of my square jaw-line, crooked nose, firm chin, and dark piercing predating eyes below the furrowed brows gave an aura of darkness and evilness inside me.
My body was already rumbling, and my bones were cracking, trying to snap the tight metallic chains around my arms, feet, and neck. Links connected the chains to the metal wall behind me. My bones were breaking down and resettling, stretching my skin like rubber to accommodate the shape of another form. I screamed in agony, rattling the chains behind, almost making them ready to plunge out of their hinges.
My blue eyes turned black; skin turned to menacing black fur, nails to sharp-pointed claws, teeth to canine fangs. I was going wild, screeching in pain, growling, and getting out of control. My body rumbled in uncontrolled spasms, trying to break through the chains, trying to escape. It was an instant transformation into the Ghost wolf, but the pain at that moment was enough to take life as if hundreds of glass shards were penetrating my body at the same timeâmy whole body burning as if I was thrown in the burning hot lava. I felt as if someone was skinning me alive, plucking out my nails and tongue, draining me of all my blood.
The result of the transformation was the reflection of the Ghost-wolf in the mirror. A most dangerous, the deadliest predator among werewolves, with no control and mercy. A deathly greenish mist enveloped my whole body, giving a monstrous aura to my enemies, concealing my scent.
My continuous growls, moans, snarls and yelps perpetuated the surrounding air as deadly waves, constantly echoing through the dungeon walls, giving a loud acoustic effect through the surrounding woods.
All I felt was break open these metallic chains and kill, rampage everything around, taste blood. I need help, a desperate help. I was in pain.
Within the next moment, something weird happened like never before. A scent engulfed my senses, so strong as if giving raw power to my muscles and bones. A powerful urge to destroy these shackles coated my senses like an obsession. I know that my ghost-wolf form could be disastrous to others, but the effect of that scent was like a hypnotizing potion driving me nuts.
It was the scent of a mate!
My body reacted aggressively to the scent and a sudden burst of energy waved through me like hot lava and with a quick snap, I broke free from the shackles binding me to the walls of the dungeon. I rushed through the narrow alleys of the dungeon towards the Forbidden woods of Artena, trailing the scent.