Wilona's P.O.V
I ask unable to stop my mouth but I didn't regret saying it when my words made Damon smile widely.
"No, we don't just get it." He replies with a helpless chuckle, eyes lightening slightly. "We prepare our whole lives with the knowledge that that is what we're going to be one day. We train differently from other wolves, learn different materials, spend years attending meetings with parents, training others and more. There's a lot of preparation that goes into it, it's not like I wake up and just wing it."
"What happens if that isn't what you want to be?" I ask curiously, the question making Damon frown a little.
"Well that doesn't normally happen, it's what we're born to be. It's literally in our blood to lead and it's what you naturally want to do." Damon says as he twists his mouth to the side in thought. "But it'd go to the next in line if someone truly didn't want the role, that's what happened with my dad."
"And you want to be this? To be an.. alpha?" I question, the word sounding strange on my tongue. Damon nods quickly without a moment of hesitation.
I nod in understanding at that. I wasn't so much intrigued by wolf politics as I was worried to know whether or not this was something Damon wanted and if he could reject it if he didn't. It calmed a piece of me to know that he had a choice in all this.
"I was supposed to take my position as alpha this year," Damon continues, voice becoming quieter with each word. "But my parents didn't think it was time."
The last words come almost as a whisper through his teeth, his jaws locked tightly together as he squeezed my hands as if angry, yet his eyes were already filling at his own words. I watch helplessly as Damon unravels before me, his mouth rushing to continue before I could respond.
"They didn't think I was ready yet and so..." He takes in a deep, shuddering breath, pulling his hands from mine to wipe his tears away before they could fall. His face spent with anger and grief as he wiped at his tears furiously. "... I left."
"Damon," I call as I wrap my fingers around his wrist, pulling his hands away from his face. "Why not? Why did they think you're not ready?"
Damon freezes then, looking up at me as if he were a child who'd been caught doing something wrong. I try to keep my face as welcoming and kind as I could, not wanting him to shut himself away from me. I wanted us to be able to trust one another, even if it took a bit of work to get there.
"B-Because I'm too violent." He whispers so softly I barely heard it. "They s-said I'm too violent."
"Violent?" I question doubtfully and he nods.
I couldn't quite imagine Damon doing anything other than laughing in my head, yeah he looked like if he could handle himself and his knife collection definitely backed that theory up, but violence wasn't something I could easily associate with the Damon I knew.
It was like two pieces that just didn't fit, at least, not in my mind.
"Are you?" I ask hesitantly. Damon's eyes glimmer with tears that fall freely. "Are you a v-violent person Damon?"
He nods slowly, his head moving at an aching pace as if it pained him to make the single motion. I sink my teeth into my cheek to stop myself from spiraling into a sea of panic that shot through me at the admission.
The panic didn't stem from his words so much as the memories that it triggered.
The memories of others who were also violent, violent enough to hurt me in a way that was unforgettable. Leaving a stain in my skin that wasn't visible to the naked eye but still burned silently beneath the surface.
"Y-You said too violent," I say trying to tackle this from another angle. Suddenly desperate to not see Damon in any other light than the one that I knew, the one which shone so brightly. "Are... werewolves violent by nature?"
Damon blinks up at me, eyes widening with clear surprise at this response. I continue gnawing at my inner cheek, redirecting all and any of my worries to that spot so that it didn't show on my face.
"We're half wolves, our instincts call for us to kill in certain situations." He replies as if that was obvious. "If challenged, a fight would ensue leaving one either extremely damaged or dead."
My heart spiked at that, his casual reference to death and fighting casting a worrying shadow over me.
"To an extent, we're all violent... well, everyone but Peter." He continues mindlessly.
"Peter?" I ask and Damon smiles instantly.
"He's my little brother, he's an omega but he's more fragile than the usual omega." He explains quickly, throwing in a new term that went straight over my head. Damon seems to notice then and scrambles to explain. "Omegas are usually the lowest rank as wolves, but we don't treat them any different in the pack, honest. They usually are weaker than the average wolf, but that's not always the case. But Peter... he's weaker than the average omega."
Damon frowned at his own words as if angered by the truth, his body tensing as his mind worked overtime. I take in the information, noting Peter's name alongside Levi's, knowing how important family was to Damon.
My head was basically spinning but I pressed on, wanting to get over the hurdle Damon was clearly hiding behind before I allowed myself to sink back into our previous state of bliss.
"So it's normal?" I press with a raised brow. "In your kind, amongst your people I mean. Is it normal to do this?"
Damon shakes his head sadly, all the short-lived joy bleeding from him all too quickly.
"I'm worse." He admits, eyes cast down. "Everyone says I'm worse."
"You don't agree?" I ask with a small frown. Damon closes his eyes, the skin there tightening as if he was reliving something he didn't want to.
"It's not as simple as they make it out to be." He states carefully, opening his eyes to look at me. "But I have hurt others." He mumbles under his breath, a clear attempt to hide his words. "I've hurt a lot of others Will."
"S-So you've killed before?"