Damon: The A'rouk Brothers: A BBW Paranornal

by Serena Simpson

  Elandra stepped out of the shadows. “Damon, how nice to see you again.”

  No good deed, the thought went through his mind, but he never finished it. He knew who Elandra was, but he didn’t know what he was. He wasn’t a good little minion. Dante had practically ordered him to heal Elandra when The Darkness had tortured him and whipped him so close to death that he would die without Damon’s help.

  The male had cursed him and promised to kill him if he healed him. Although he refused Dante’s request in the beginning, he eventually gave in. Now he would reap the reward of death for saving the males life.

  None of that told him what the male was. He wasn’t a simple minion couldn’t be with his brother's interest in him. He could be close to The Darkness but why would it try to kill him?

  “Grab his symphor,” Elandra said to one of the minions. “The Darkness will love having one of these in its possession.

  Damon watched as the minion approached the symphor. It broke the containment field and landed in the minion’s heart dropping him like he wasn’t worth thinking about then his symphor disappeared. The Darkness may get him, but it wouldn’t get his weapon. He’d have to wonder where it went later.

  “Damon,” Elandra hissed between his teeth walking up to him. He was still lying in bed unable to move, unable to defend himself. He held Elandra’s eyes hoping to keep him solely focused on him.

  “Collect the female,” he told the minions he brought with him. There would be no playing nice or fair. Give an A’rouk an inch, and they would win the round.

  Damon tried to move to protect her, but the containment field had him on lockdown. It didn’t matter how much power he possessed the curse activated the moment he met his mate. He couldn’t break the shield even though he struggled against it. He knew what The Darkness did to females, and his heart almost burst as he watched those minions moving towards his mate.

  “Sir?” One of the minions questioned him carefully approaching the medbed. They had just seen two of their number die, and none of them wanted to be three.

  “Open it and drag her out.” He turned back to face Damon. “The Darkness has been waiting for you.”

  Damon just stared at him unable to speak. With a wave of his hand, Elandra released his vocal cords while keeping the rest of his body contained.

  “The Darkness should have come itself I would have made sure there was a welcoming party waiting for it. You want me, not River, leave her alone.”

  “I want you both. I’ve learned since my encounter with your brother. The female comes with me. There will be no second chance; she dies, and we harvest your soul.”

  The minion screamed as his body caught fire and he burned. Elandra reached down and pulled him off the bed.

  “Remove the shield around her.” He punched him in the jaw and followed it up with a body hit.

  Damon stood still unable to move or react, but that didn’t stop him from feeling the blows. A small trickle of blood was seeping out of his busted lip, and he laughed.

  “No.” Then he laughed again because he knew it would infuriate Elandra.

  They wouldn’t be able to touch her. A part of him breathed in relief that his mate would be safe for now.

  “Stand back.” He already lost three minions on this mission. Taking the female in early wasn’t worth another minion death.

  He walked up to Damon pressing against him.

  “I will make you pay for the minion deaths. You will pay for saving me, and I’ll take that one out on your female. She’s going to die. What do you think will happen when you’re not here to program the next step into the medbed? A slow agonizing death. Give her to me, and I promise to make her death easy, merciful, unlike what you did to me when you saved me.”

  He laughed he couldn’t help himself. Hell was reflected in Elandra’s eyes, he was looking for revenge. There would be nothing quick or merciful about him.

  Elandra was right he needed to be here to program the next sequence into the medbed for her healing. The bed would wait, but it wouldn’t open because it wasn’t time. River was smart she helped herself when it should have been impossible when others would have simply died. He would have to have faith in her.

  “You’ll regret this. Bring him,” he snapped at the minions before they all disappeared.

  River’s eyes opened. The minute the unknown male spoke she had come to complete wakefulness. She knew she should still be sleep; Damon was counting on it, but his need for help triggered a need in her to help him. She had laid there like she was still sleeping, healing because there was nothing she could do to help and if she moved it would bring attention to herself, doing that would make things harder for Damon.

  She pressed against the medbed knowing it wouldn’t open, it wasn’t time yet.

  A flash of a shadow caught her eye. Had they come back to finish her off. He walked into the light, and she sighed. She had seen him earlier watching her, making sure she was all right even though he never touched her. In her deluded state, she believed that he gave her the extra strength she needed to turn over and crawl away.

  “You’re back.”

  “I am.”

  “I’m trapped in this bed.” Why did she believe he wanted to help her? Maybe because it didn’t matter if she couldn’t get free, she would die.

  He approached the bed never making a sound. Then his fingers flew over the keys, and the top opened. She took in a deep breath because now she was vulnerable. In a flash, he could end her life. Instead, he placed his hands on her abdomen and closed his eyes.

  It took less than a minute and then he was looking at her again. The green of his eyes piercing the hazel of hers.

  “Damon is an excellent healer; you will make a complete recovery.” One of his hands still rested on her, and a warm feeling encircled her coming to spread over her chest. “There will be no scars; you’ll never know he had to open your chest.”

  She looked at him and blinked fast. What did it matter about scars as long as she was living? Some part of her that was buried deep for the moment was thankful that he was considerate enough to heal something that may trouble her in the future.

  She licked her lips; she still needed water. “They took him, Damon. Can you get him back?”

  She didn’t know who he was, but he gave off the impression of strength. He could do it; she was sure of that.

  “No, Damon has to fight for himself. Now that he has seen you, touched you, healed you I believe that he has a fighting chance against The Darkness.”

  “You don’t know for sure?”

  “Who knows what a male or a female will do?”

  Good point. “What about me?”

  “I’m going to take you somewhere to finish healing. River, in the end, you will have to fight for yourself too.”

  She nodded she spent her life fighting, another battle wouldn’t be that much of a hardship, she hoped. He reached into the medbed and picked her up. What was it with these males carry her?

  “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “Your about as heavy as a feather.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Dante.”

  *~*~*~*

  Elandra stripped him. Damon stood on a planet dressed in nothing but his boxers. He felt a moment of joy that he decided to put some on last night.

  He knew where he was; he was on Sylica—the hell planet. They were going to own his soul, The Darkness hadn’t invaded his mind and transported him that way. They took his body, he knew mentally resisting might have been possible, but to physically resist was close to impossible. Bringing him here physically had to be their answer to Mick escaping all those months ago. Damon was standing on the top of a mountain peak between two large columns each arm chained to one. His feet were allowed to be unchained as the fire around them crept closer.

  The executioner stood behind him.

  “Do you know what happened to the last executioner?” He growled in his ear.

  He stayed silent it’s
not like The Darkness put out a news vid.

  “Your brother killed him; that’s what happened. I won’t be going out the same way as my predecessor. Your brother can’t come here in the flesh. He will die an unexpected death if he does.”

  His brother, He wanted to chuckle. Only Dante could cause so much hatred and be totally unaffected by it. His desire to laugh fled him as the executioner’s other statement made its way home. Dante couldn’t come here; he would die. The SOS he was sending out cut off, he would not be the reason his brother died.

  He looked over the planet, taken in by its savage beauty. The sky was a red that became an angry dark red at night. The clouds were white as if tempting you to come closer before they wrapped themselves around you and dropped you to the surface. There were barren mountains as far as the eyes could see and fires that popped up all over the planet unannounced. If you looked closely, you might see a tree or a wisp of a flower clinging onto life in the midst of a dead planet.

  The hell planet. His lips curved into a smile until he felt the first lick of the executioner’s whip across his back. He felt his skin open, and blood began to ooze down his back. That’s when the fires of hell sprang up around his feet and legs burning them. He watched as his flesh bubbled and boiled before it turned black and the feeling left his legs, and still the fire burned licking up until it touched his knees then blessedly it was gone, but all that he could see below his knees were bones.

  Next came the healing that coincided with the next flick of the whip. Could the healing process be worse than the burning? His muscles and veins and arteries were reconstructed a little at a time. The sheer pain of having half a vein or artery throb with nothing there to catch it as you watched your blood spill out was one of the devices The Darkness was using to break him. The muscles of his legs needed to be torn out and redone because the process was so slow his flesh and blood didn’t survive the first round of healing while that whip continued hitting him over and over again a reminder that his life was over.

  Then there was the executioner's voice, reminding him, “We’ve just begun.”

  Chapter Five

  Damon’s body sagged between the two column’s holding him up. How long had he been here? The day turned to night and back again several times, and still the executioner beat him, and still he burned. Now Elandra was back, and he looked proud as if any suffering Damon did was directly related to him.

  “Damon,” Elandra called his name.

  He ignored Elandra; he was in his sweet spot. He was having a conversation with River; she was telling him about her life and the life they would live together as soon as he was free. Of course, it would never happen, but he didn’t care, sometimes the thought life was better than reality. In this case, it would have to do.

  “Damon!” Elandra raised his voice frustrated that Damon could ignore him. “Whip him again.”

  The executioner had changed whips now he was using a cat o nine tails to cover more surface area. But this wasn’t a harmless whip at the end of each tail there was a barb that sank deep into his back and pulled at his muscles and flesh when the executioner drew it back.

  “Scream Damon,” the executioner had whispered in his ear. This words had slithered over his skin like a snake looking for the best place to sink its fangs.

  Damon chose to lose himself in his fantasies of River. Her hazel eyes were a balm to his tattered soul. Her pretty pink lips played with his heart. He knew if he were at home he would have an erection he wouldn’t be able to handle from thinking of her, but here pain was all his body could feel.

  “Make your life easy Damon, turn her over to The Darkness.”

  Damon staggered to feet that could barely hold him and looked into Elandra’s face.

  “Is that what you did, Elandra? Did you kiss her, make love to her, tell her there was no one else for you? Did you? After that did you turn a blind eye to her? Did you see the fear on her face as she loved you anyway before you stuck your dagger deep into her heart? Did you Elandra!” Damon screamed at him using the precious strength he had left. “Is that how you killed the woman you were destined to love forever?”

  Elandra’s eye began to blaze the fire of the hell planet reflected in them. His body grew, and his anger and hatred for Damon multiplied. He reached out and struck him in the face and then he grabbed his head and twisted determined to break his neck.

  Damon could feel the blood seeping out of his busted lip, and his black eye was already swelling. He knew he was going to die soon as Elandra kept twisting his head. Death would be a relief.

  “Do it,” he whispered. “Kill me, put me out of my misery.”

  “Killing Damon would be one way to bring this farce to an end.”

  Every minion of Darkness stopped and turned to look at Dante who was standing in the fires of hell. They highlighted who he was, but not one flame touched him.

  “If you kill Damon I simply get your soul sooner Elandra and where’s your sidekick I think I am going to claim his soul too.”

  Elandra dropped Damon’s body and stepped back.

  “You can’t be here Dante,” Elandra said in a loud firm voice. He would not let this male intimidate him.

  “Maybe not, but here I am.” Dante walked over to Damon and looked at the fire that was once again beginning to burn at his feet.

  “Stop,” his voice was loud and authoritative so that it would reach the ear of every minion present. The fire stopped, it sputtered out like all the oxygen on the planet suddenly disappeared.

  Mouths opened, and murmurs rose asking who was Dante, what was Dante?

  “One day Dante you will get your chance to be the guest of The Darkness, and I will break you,” Elandra hissed with fury.

  Dante walked up to him pressing against his chest. “Think of that day Elandra, make plans because if I ever get away from The Darkness, I promise you I will own your soul.”

  Elandra blanched all the color leaving his face. Dante swore to what would happen, and he could not lie. What he said was set in stone. If he ever broke free from The Darkness once captured, he would own Elandra.

  “Have no fear Dante I will kill you.”

  “I’ll leave you to plan your glorious victory, but I will be taking my brother with me.”

  Elandra wanted to protest. Dante turned to look at him raising an eyebrow.

  “Do you want to do this now? Here?”

  Elandra stepped back. “It’s not over.”

  “I’d be disappointed if it was.” Dante and Damon disappeared.

  *~*~*~*

  River opened her eyes to find that once again she was in a medbed although she remembered being picked up and moved. Her hands came out to touch the dome that kept her inside when it wouldn’t open she banged on it.

  “You’re a stubborn female, River.”

  She knew that voice it had spoken to her in her dreams saying she would make a full recovery. It wasn’t the voice she wanted to hear, but any voice would do right now. Opening her eyes, she saw a tall male with black hair and blue eyes.

  “Hi, I’m Nicolas, we’ve talked several times, but I’m betting you don’t have any memory of them.”

  She gave her head a brief shake no. She didn’t remember him, but she remembered the voice. His fingers flew over the medbed, and soon the top was lifting. Her chest lifted as she took a deep breath, she was beginning to feel like she was buried alive the longer she stayed in the medbed.

  “Where am I?” Her voice croaked from lack of use, and her lips and throat were parched. Why couldn’t she get some water to drink?

  “Love bring me some water as well as a small glass of apple juice.”

  She looked at him not hearing a reply.

  “Janis, my mate, she’ll bring you some water.”

  “You’re in a small house in a small city outside of the main city. It’s called Sin City you have probably never heard of it before.”

  She stared at him wondering if this was another dome. His head turned to the do
or, and she took in her surroundings. They were in a bedroom with walls the color of sea blue. They gave her a comfort made her almost feel like she was close to the water.

  Janis walked into the room holding two cups; she had black hair that feathered around her face giving her a timeless look and gray eyes. River blinked real slow because she was also like her. That wasn’t popular in today's society. It was so easy to go under the laser or sign up for two or four weeks of body sculpting. You could look like anybody you wanted to or simply be the best version of yourself, or so the vid said that was running through the back of her mind.

  Nicolas walked over to his mate, leaned down and kissed her. River’s heart jolted as she thought of the male with red hair and black streaks with eyes that changed color. He was dead; the thought tackled her, and she could feel a wail of desperation trying to leave her throat. Her teeth were grinding together in her effort to keep herself sane.

  “We are going to try a little bit of water before I help you get up. I want to see if your body can keep it down. If it can’t you’ll have to go back under.”

  “Have we done this before?” His words sounded vaguely familiar.

  “Three times, this is the fourth.”

  “What happened to me?”

  “You landed on a boulder. Do you remember that?”

  She nodded. How could she forget? Sloan had dropped her out of the hover not high enough to kill her but high enough to cripple her.

  “Damon operated on you. He did an excellent job of it and saved your life. He also took care of the severe internal bruising you received. I’ve never seen anything like it before, as you began to heal it became apparent that whatever caused your internal bruising had left a small present behind. It acted like a poison working its way through your system but only touching the organs that were originally damaged. Your lungs were almost destroyed.”

  Sloan had intended to kill her one way or the other. If only she knew the reason why.

  He helped her sit up so that he could tilt the glass for her to drink from it greedily. After a few sips, he laid her down and pulled out his scanner.