HUNTED

**** Content Warning ****

The following chapter references scenes of abuse. Please read at your own discretion. 

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The cars stopped in the parking lot to ONYX nightclub. There were no queues regardless of it being a Saturday night. Gabriel must have phoned ahead and shut it down. Damon swung the door open as soon as he saw Finn carrying Aila wrapped up in a blanket, unconscious. 

Everything else around him seemed to vanish, the sounds of footsteps, the breeze, the sight of his comrades. All he saw was his mate, her hair sticking to her pale face, covered in cuts. He instantly pulled her into his arms, his legs collapsing beneath him as he held her to his chest, stroking away her hair from her face.

"Aila"

"Aila"

"Aila"

He wept her name. She had never looked so fragile before, even when she escaped the hunters twice before. His mate always returned seemingly unscathed though he always knew the truth of her injuries. 

This time their bond was blocked, and the look of her startled and enraged him. Without realising it, he had been rocking her back and forth.

"Damon.." Her tiny voice snapped him out of his despair, and he stared into her half-open eyes. She reached her hand up, gently grazing the stubble on his jaws, and smiled so tenderly that he felt his heart pinch and his breathing halt. Relief flooded her eyes before her hand dropped, and her eyes shut once more.

Aila was physically and mentally exhausted. But hearing her voice, feeling her in his arms settled him and calmed the beast within him. Damon stood up, his face hardening, the mask of the Alpha King back in place. He glanced at the last black-tinted SUV arriving in the parking lot as Chase and Kane rushed out towards them, followed by Vinnie and Luther.

Everyone except Chase halted at the sight of Aila in Damon's arms, but Gabriel grabbed his arm and shook his head. Damon turned his back on everyone and went to the club's back entrance, following through the quiet and luxurious interior until he was in the golden elevator. Damon closed the doors on purpose as Gabriel approached. Damon saw how the vampire's eyes were locked on Aila's face, and he knew he couldn't deal with any jealous thoughts at the moment.

As soon as he made it to the penthouse, he rushed to their room, laying Aila atop the bed. He slowly began unwrapping the blanket and paused. His eyes roamed her body and landed on the most distinguished mark of them all. The hunter's emblem had been cut into her skin below his mark. It looked deep and painful.

Damon lowered his face into his hands, his mind a mixture of anguish, rage, and guilt. He failed in protecting his mate. Aila went through all of this because they weren't careful enough. He stroked her hair again, this time taking note of the burn mark around her neck. Was this from silver?

Damon clenched his teeth together. He could not imagine what Aila went through or if she would be the same after. His hand paused on the side of her cheek. He hoped to see her smile again and make precious memories to help hide these dark ones. Her recovery may take some time, but he would be there to help her through this.

Damon tossed the blanket aside and helped Aila under the quilt. Once she was covered, her body relaxed more, and she sighed. Damon undressed and crawled under the covers in his boxers, instantly sliding his arms around her frail body. She tensed at the action but then relaxed into his chest, sighing, "Dam Dam."

[ Aila ]

Aila flickered her eyes open; she did not want to wake up from her dream. No, it wasn't a dream but another memory of her and Damon's childhood. Her memories in between her time of being tortured by Clint were the only things keeping her from completely collapsing in on herself. Malia was locked away from her, and the saddest thing she looked forward to was being transferred from Clint's cabin and to the next compound.

She grimaced at the idea as her eyes finally focused on her surroundings. Blinking, she saw the high ceiling and the dark, luxurious interior of a bedroom. She felt disorientated and slightly disturbed by the warmth clinging onto her side. Aila's instant thought was Clint cuddling her.

Her body began to tremble, but she focused on her anger to stop herself from looking weak. Her eyes were wide, her heart already shot out from her chest. She slowly turned her head to the side, almost afraid of what she would find. Her shoulders instantly relaxed after seeing the face of her man resting by her side.

"Damon," Her voice trembled with the tears blurring her sight of his Greek-god-like features. His eyes opened at the call of her voice. Her tears flowed down her face, a silent cry in front of the one she loved.

"Aila..I-"

"Am I dreaming?" She interrupted. She kept her voice quiet, fearing that if she was any louder, she would wake from this dream.

Damon shook his head, kissing her on the cheek, and slowly wiped her tears away with his thumbs. "No, this is real.. You're safe.." His deep voice calmed her manic heart. And like a spell being lifted, Aila realised how silly she was being. Of course, it was real. How could it not be, his smell, his warmth, the room they were in.. It was real.

"You are safe, Aila.." Damon spoke gently; his hands were still cupping her face, his silver eyes burned with love and sorrow. Aila closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, her shivering body relaxing in his embrace. When she opened her eyes once more, she saw the tortured expression on Damon's face.

"I must look.." Aila trailed off. The last time she looked at her body was in the shower and.. She felt sick to her stomach; her body felt disgusting not just from the marks but by those hands that touched her, wiping away the dried blood in the shower.

"Aila, if I don't clean you, your wounds would become infected." She stared into those glassy blue eyes that looked at her like she was a broken doll. No words would leave her mouth by the horror that this man both abused her body with a knife to then gently clean it. If there was no collar around her neck, no wolfsbane in her system, she would slit his throat-

"AILA!"

She inhaled sharply, and her surroundings melted away; her dazed gaze was now wide and staring into warm, molten silver orbs. She was trembling. How long had Damon been calling for her?

"I'm here. You are safe," Damon stared at her intently as he repeated the exact words over again like a lullaby to calm a baby as he held her against his chest. The beating drum of his heart, his scent, and his words washed away the memory. His huge arms wrapped around her like a protective cage. Acting like a shield from the outside world and the memories of the past few days that tried to resurface to her mind.

"Damon, I need to shower," She murmured.

"Okay. Can I take care of you?" He asked so gently that a few tears escaped her closed lids. She sniffled, wondering if a shower with him would ever be the same.

"Maybe.. But.." She gulped and pulled away, staring at him. Fear and anxiety started to build in her chest. She covered her nose and mouth with her hands. "He.. he.. cleaned me after.." Her eyes flickered away, not wanting to meet his. How would he see her? After another man touched her? She had not been raped, but he still..

"Shhhh.. You don't need to tell me more.. If.. Hey, look at me.." Damon gently touched the side of her face. There was no single force behind his touch, but she knew to look at him and did so on her own account. Her saddened eyes met his burning gaze. "If you don't want me in the shower or if there is anything else you feel uncomfortable with.. Tell me, Aila."

Aila nodded her head and swallowed past the lump in her throat. She felt exhausted, but she needed that shower. Maybe it was a step in the right direction? Who knew? All she wanted to do was get this horrible feeling off her skin.

She slowly sat up, grimacing at the pain in her body and the aches in her muscles. Damon sat up instantly, staring at her in alarm. It looked as though he wanted to say something, but he held back. "I will shower. Come with me?" She asked nervously. She did not want some psychopath to ruin something between her and her mate.

Damon had taken care of her plenty of times in the shower. She was not about to stop that. Aila swung her feet to the side of the bed and slowly stood up. Though her legs felt weak, she reached her hand out to steady herself and found the warmest touch of Damon's large hand under hers. He watched her carefully but did not say anything even as she walked slowly towards the adjoining bathroom.

Aila sat on the closed toilet seat while Damon glanced between the shower and the bathtub big enough to fit at least four people. He turned the taps to run the bath then looked at her in expectation of a refusal, but she smiled instead in approval. Or so she helped, it felt forced, but she felt too weak still to say much.

There was no way she could possibly stand in a shower, and maybe a bath was just what they needed. She wanted to stay connected to Damon. Although she felt very self-conscious right now with her body the way, it was. But she knew within a few days, the marks would be gone.

Once the bath was full enough, Damon approached her slowly. Her eyes followed the rippled muscles in his stomach up to his broad chest and to his devilishly handsome face. She reached her hands up, and he lifted her up bridal style.

Aila leaned her head into his chest as he kissed her head. "Help me wash it all away."