Damien might have been able to enjoy the soft prickle of Cain's magic dancing over his skin, if he hadn't been so embarrassed by his misunderstanding. He'd never expected to enjoy something like this, particularly from someone who had earned his hate more truly than anyone else – except, perhaps, Crowe. But even Crowe hadn't killed his family. It was confusing, to be in a position where the one person he hated most was also the one his body - his soul - craved, despite his mind's resistance.
He tried to ignore the weight settled over his hips, as Cain leaned over him, dragging his tongue - and with it, the prickle of his magic - slowly across the scrapes and cuts that lingered on his back. He could already feel the ache of torn skin fading to a distant hum, could feel how easy it would be to sink once more into that space in his mind where nothing mattered except his alpha.
But he wasn't going to do that again, because it had been stupid of him to let his instincts run that far and that fast, especially for someone like Cain, who didn't want a thrall and didn't care about him as anything more than an inconvenient blood-host.
He could control himself, as long as he refused to let go of the knowledge that his mate, his alpha, was not really committed to the bond, and certainly not in the way that Damien was committed. Cain had no instinct driving him towards it. Only the instinct to feed and to drain him dry. And Damien couldn't allow himself to forget that - a mate bite might mean something to him, but it was merely an amusing and odd little quirk to Cain, who had no way of knowing what Damien felt.
Then again, Cain had said something about how pain made blood taste different, so maybe he could taste a little bit of the anguish Damien felt - though he wasn't sure that there would be a measurable difference in the taste of physical and emotional pain.
He shut his eyes, and tried to focus on nothing, as if he was building a wall in his mind, a separation between himself and the part of him that wanted to connect with Cain. The bond tugged at his chest, not nearly as strongly as it had when he'd been rejected (which had felt like nothing so much as a knife plunged into his chest), but it was like the bond could sense his attempt to cut himself off from his mate, and the disapproval (from Brinn herself?) twinged like a pulled muscle.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Cain lifted his body away from Damien's, and stood, his form lingering at the bedside as he said, his voice rough with what could be mistaken for lust, but was almost certainly blood-hunger, "There. It's done."
Damien sat up slowly, feeling the truth of the statement in how his back no longer protested his movements. He felt energized, too, like the magic had brought back some of his vitality. He wasn't sure if that was a normal vampire thing, or if it was the work of the bond, rewarding him for his continued closeness to his mate. It was a bit hard to tell where one bit of magic ended and the other began, he supposed.
It was surprising, because he'd never once confused Crowe's sinister magic for the gentle caress of Brinn's. But here, with Cain, it felt almost like one and the same.
"Thank you," he said, twisting a little to test his range of motion. It was so much easier to move, and he felt like he was coming alive again. Especially after the horror of what had been done to him by Crowe, being unshackled and unhindered by injuries was a gift he'd expected to never experience again. "I can move more easily now."
"Clearly," Cain drawled. "Does that mean you no longer require my assistance for… internal pressure?" he said the last part like it truly pained him to allow the words past his lips.
Damien felt his shoulders tense. "Yeah," he said, hating the way his face began to burn as he remembered their miscommunication earlier, "I can handle that part myself."
"Good," Cain said, sounding surprisingly relieved by this knowledge.
Damien spared a moment to wonder if maybe the vampire wasn't attracted to men, and that was why he'd been so odd about the whole mating bond requirements. He'd never bothered to ask, because he'd never heard of a mate-bond where the two individuals were not mutually attracted to one another. But Cain had never seemed remotely interested in Damien, nor had Damien noted any particular interest from the vampire in anyone else. He'd seen plenty of thralls who seemed obsessed with Cain, but had not witnessed any sort of reciprocation from the vampire.
Was Cain interested in women, more than men? Or was he not interested in anything at all? He was still ruminating on this when Cain cleared his throat to catch Damien's attention.
"Is there anything else you need before we handle this?" Cain asked, sounding bored and a little bit annoyed.
You could try and sound a little less disdainful, Damien thought irritably, but chose not to give voice to the thought, recognizing how unhelpful it would be. Who would have thought he'd learn to hold his tongue after all this time spent shouting at the vampire? Dezzy would be proud. "I'm ready," is what he said instead.
"Right," Cain said, and stepped closer. "Do you want me on the bed with you, or…?"
Damien had to consider that for a moment. He was going to let a vampire bite his neck. Did he want closeness, or distance? But this wasn't any vampire, this was, despite his own personal feelings on the matter, his mate. Surely he would want his mate to be close during the bonding.
After a long moment's consideration, Damien said, "Please join me."
Cain huffed, a sound which Damien couldn't determine as signaling agreement or disagreement, until he crawled onto the bed beside Damien.
He was still fully clothed, where Damien was certainly not. The inequality of their state of dress grated at Damien, but he didn't think he should press his luck by telling Cain to remove his clothes. Instead, he turned, and allowed himself to once more sink into a pose that felt utterly natural, hips raised, body pressed low, presenting himself to his alpha.
"That's not going to work," Cain said, his voice a low grumble. His soft, cool hand trailed down Damien's back, circling lightly under his chin, and lifting until Damien had no choice but to sit up. "I can't reach your neck all the way down there," he said. The low growl of his voice tingled down Damien's spine, and he couldn't stop the shudder that worked its way through his body.
"Okay," Damien said, despite the way that his instincts balked at the new position, sitting nearly upright, most of his weight resting on his feet, which were tucked underneath himself. Still, Cain was his alpha, and if this was how his alpha wanted the bond to be consummated, then that was how it had to be.
"Now," Cain said, his voice an almost-whisper that ghosted past Damien's ear, "would be a good time to start that internal pressure you mentioned before."
Damien swallowed hard, and snaked his hand down, reaching for his entrance. He'd played with himself before, of course, but never with another person. Especially not another person who seemed to be watching his every move with mild disdain and a judgemental attitude. It was humiliating, and terrifying, and he hated it.
He didn't have a choice, twisting a bit awkwardly to try and get the right angle, to reach the place he needed. It wasn't easy, and the longer it took, the more he could feel the impatience of the vampire who was seated behind him, probably watching him fumble and despising him more with every passing second.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Damien felt a spark, like something had caught flame inside, and he gasped, "There!" before he could fully think through what he was saying. He pressed deeper, harder, and as he did, Cain's hand, which had been resting against his throat this whole time (and how had he not noticed the insistent coolness of the man's silky hand?), gripped the sides of his jaw lightly, and he leaned closer, his cool breath caressing the nape of Damien's neck.
"Damien," Cain murmured, his lips brushing lightly against the sensitive skin, "what was it you said to call you…? Omega, was it?"
Damien couldn't control himself, feeling the way the bond in him pulsed at his alpha recognizing him as omega, and he shouted, "Yes! Yes! Alpha–" he didn't get any further, then, because the next sensation was that of sharp fangs plunging into the soft flesh of his neck, encircling the place a mate-bite should go. Pleasure, white-hot and overwhelming, flooded through him. His whole body seemed to shake from the ecstasy, the intensity so great that it was like every thought was wiped from his mind, and all that remained was not so much a thought as an impression, a truth that was written in the deepest part of himself, that he had a mate, and that mate was alpha.
He couldn't even bring himself to worry, when the bite against his throat lingered. He couldn't resist anything at the moment, the pleasure whiting out even the barest hint of caution he might have felt at the lingering of those dangerous fangs.
Slowly, as the delight of the bond faded, he noticed something else, a sort of floating feeling, a buoyancy that didn't seem to be connected to the bond still warming his chest, but rather a trickle of pleasure that flowed from the site of the bite. As the seconds passed by, he could feel that sensation growing, a pleasure that was both similar and different to the one introduced by the bond. It was not as deep, or soul-satisfying, but it was more overwhelming, more carnal. His body began to shudder again, this time in response to whatever was causing the pleasure of the bite…
He should, he observed (as if from a distance, not really in command of his own mind), be worried about this. The experience was so overwhelmingly good that it was hard to hold onto the thought of what could possibly be wrong.
No wonder Johann begged for the bite, Damien thought, still disconnected from his own sense of danger and uncertainty. This was nothing like what Crowe had inflicted on him. It was incredible.
He parted his lips, aiming to say mate, or maybe alpha, but the first word that floated to the surface of his mind was neither of these words. Instead, he felt his mind whisper the word master.
The disconnect of such a thought was enough to send a shock of cold, intense dread shooting down his spine. Immediately, the panic and the rage came rushing back to the forefront, no longer contained by whatever cursed magic had sealed them away, and Damien threw himself to the side, scrambling away from the vampire's bite.
Cain seemed to have sensed the breaking of the enthrallment a moment before Damien's reaction, and so he'd already pulled away before Damien could move, so the abrupt flight didn't cause more harm to his barely-just-healed body.
"You tried to enthrall me!" Damien shouted, feeling fury so deep in his bones that it burned.
Cain just stared back at Damien, a hint of annoyance flashing across his face before it smoothed into a neutral, blank stare. "That's what happens," he said, the annoyance still clear in his voice, "when you ask a vampire to bite you." What did you expect? He didn't say, but the question was clear in his tone.
Damien fumbled to find words for a moment, before finally saying, "Fine. Just. Don't let it happen again."
Cain was looking at him like he was an idiot. "Wasn't the deal that I feed from you? How do you propose I do that without biting you?" Idiot, he didn't say. Didn't have to say, as the intent was clear in the sharp gaze he fixed on Damien.
Damien had no real answer to that. He had, sort of, agreed to that, he supposed. Or at least he'd used the fact that his blood was palatable as a bargaining chip in getting the mate bite that he needed to recover from mate-sickness before his next transformation. Still, he wasn't happy about it. "Whatever," he grumbled, and felt a hint of glee at the annoyed look that once more crossed Cain's face. He might be in a difficult position, but at least he could still make Cain's life miserable while he was mired in his own misery. It was a cold comfort, but he would cling to it all the same.