Chapter 258: Twelve Names Less
I heaved a sigh of relief; I had dodged a bullet.
"Thank you, Nicole," I said earnestly. "If you hadn’t arrived when you did, I think both Kyle and I would’ve perished right there and then."
"’Kyle’ this, ’Kyle’ that," Damon muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he folded his arms across his chest. He leaned against the wall adjacent to the bed I was in, scowling deeply. "Since when did you two become the best of friends? Do you think he’ll be grateful that you saved his life?"
There was just the tiniest bit of jealousy sent through our bond, and I instantly recognized this as a way Damon was using to mend the awkward tension from before. I was grateful, truly, that he wasn’t as angry with me as he should be.
If the tables were turned, I might have not been that gracious.
There was nothing in this world that could excuse bad decisions and the lack of thought. I could spend days, maybe even years, beating myself up for it. At least Damon had relatively calmed down after giving me a piece of his mind, instead of constantly harping on it.
No matter how much I deserved it.
This incident just proved one thing, however― my judgment was right. I was nowhere suitable to become Darach’s beta, much less Damon’s luna. Both of these positions needed someone who had a rational mind and clear thought, one who could look at the costs and benefits of every decision and put the needs of the pack first.
In my reluctance to let others know, I had prioritized my own comfort and pride over the safety and well-being of the pack. This monumental mistake just proved I had much to learn still.
"He’ll probably still be ungrateful, but that’s not important. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t get injured for naught," I replied, smiling as best as I could. "It would suck pretty badly if he died after all I went through. My arm nearly got amputated!"
"The fucker lived, fortunately. If he had any sense after today he should be kissing your feet in thanks," Damon grumbled under his breath. "I should really look into demoting him. He’s a warrior and yet he couldn’t tell the difference between a vampire’s scent and a human’s. He couldn’t detect poison in food either. How disgraceful."
"Is poison detection a skill for werewolves?" I wondered.
"It is now," Damon grumbled. "I’m going to make sure every wolf learns this to avoid a repeat of this incident. More importantly, Blaise and I both know that Kyle has been consistently making trouble for you. I even asked Jeeves to confirm it. The lack of respect is appalling, especially given the fact that you’re essentially his luna."
"I am not though," I quickly said, shaking my head. "And if I was, you should have demoted me too after this horrific incident. Which pack will accept a luna that caused the deaths of a dozen werewolves?"
"I have a lot more blood on my hands, and the pack accepts me just fine," Damon said dryly. "As long as you’re not Dahlia Elrod, they’ll accept you."
I had a feeling Damon thought I was being overdramatic.
"Damon, I’m being serious. It’s different for you― you’re the Alpha, and the blood on your hands is not from the wolves of Fangborne," I said.
"Oh really? I hadn’t noticed," Damon replied sarcastically, raising an eyebrow, as if he was hearing it for the first time.
"You know what I mean!" I said, my own eyebrow twitching in frustration.
Damon’s position would never change, but the one who would inherit the position of a Luna wasn’t set in stone. What if I never rose up to the occasion, and doomed Fangborne with me?
No, I would rather die than have that happen.
"In any case, I am not fit to be your luna. You have to find someone else for the job. I’m barely fit enough to be the beta’s wife as it is," I said, self-decrepitation coloring my tone. My insecurities were slowly starting to raise their ugly heads.
"And using Dahlia Elrod is unfair. In her case, the bar is so low it might as well be in the depths of hell." Being a better candidate when Dahlia was my only competition was as good as an insult― it was like saying I was better than a pile of dog shit.
Then, I realized I was being overly harsh with the comparison. Even dog shit could be used as fertilizer.
"Even without Dahlia Elrod as a gauge, the position of Luna can only be filled by you. You want to be my fated mate, and that means being my luna. You cannot be one and not the other."
There was a pronounced silence as I digested his words. They were a truth I didn’t want to acknowledge, but when Damon spelled it out so plainly, there was no avoiding it.
"But the pack..." I began weakly, but Damon held up a hand to stop me.
"Harper, Blaise and I have spared no effort to defend you against detractors. But there’s only so much we can do to change their minds. Kyle is the most outspoken, but he’s far from the only one. You need to show the pack that you’re willing to work hard to become a worthy luna, but you can’t even accept this is your future. How can they put their trust in you?"
"I―" My cheeks heated up in embarrassment. I never expected to be lectured by Damon out of all people.
Damon continued as if I had not said a word, his voice much quieter than before. "I have made this clear to you, time and time again. The sooner you accept this, the better things will be for all of us."
I glanced at Damon dubiously.
"Would it, truly? Damon, I know little about Fangborne’s workings. I didn’t even know most of the pack members!"
"Then you better start learning," Damon said, standing up, his body casting a long shadow over my own. "If it helps, now you have twelve lesser names to learn."
"Damon!" I exclaimed, horrified that he would even make light of this matter― but I was wrong. There was no hint of joy on Damon’s stony face. I paled.
He was dead serious.
