possessiveness

Damon covered up the scandalous red marks with his white shirt and once he was fully dressed, he came back to a scene where Alexander was getting his armor on.

The tilt of his head to the side pushed his hair away from his neck to reveal a hickey that was so intimately positioned.

The mark was at the spot where his neck joined his shoulder.

Damon felt himself swallow, a strange sense of possessiveness overcoming him.

He did not want anyone else to see the mark on this man's neck.

It was for his viewing pleasure!?

His mood lightened at the thought that they were now even. He had left his mark too.

Damon stepped closer to him and that seemed to startle the knight who moved a step back.

"Make sure your hair covers your neck. I don't want it exposed." Damon said sternly as his eyes moved from his neck back to his face.

Confusion flashed in Alexander's eyes before the realization hit him.

The tips of his ears reddened as he adjusted his thick black hair to cover his neck.

He did not want his fellow soldiers teasing him to reveal who his passionate lover was.

Damon watched him dash out and once the door was shut, he let an amused chuckle escape his lips.

Chasing after and conquering this man was something that he looked forward to.

It had been ages since he had really looked forward to anything but now he had a goal in mind and he wasn't one to lose a challenge.

Damon headed out after wearing his shoes and with his knight a few steps behind him, they made their way through the corridors of the vast castle.

The maids stole glances at both of them as they passed through but their eyes lingered on Damon more.

He couldn't blame them, his looks were a cause for curiousity after all.

His light silver hair, nearing to white, set him apart from every young man in the kingdom.

Many said that he was cursed and others said that his hair had aged prematurely, leaving his youthful appearance intact.

There were of course plenty more rumors that tried to demystify his appearance but none held more truth than the first.

Damon was indeed cursed and he became more aware of the weight of his situation each year he grew older.

He fell sick more often and even though he hated appearing vulnerable and weak before others, there was not much he could do about his birth position.

The curse that plagued him was something ancient and powerful. A punishment that had been with the royal family for centuries, particularly, all the first born children of the previous kings and the current too.

It was what gave them all the silver colored hair that most found fascinating, regardless of gender.

Damon had known from a young age that he was not going to live long and as much as the harsh reality saddened him, he had made his peace with his impending doom.

The current year was the year he turned twenty five and just like all his first born relatives before him, Damon too was doomed to meet his demise.

The spacious dinning hall came into view, drawing his attention to his family that was seated at the long dinning table, sharing their morning meal.

What saddened him the most was the thought of leaving his loving family behind.

His three younger siblings smiled warmly as he approached the table and took his seat next to his father.

The middle aged man excluded a strong and warm aura that always made Damon feel like he had someone that he could always count on.

"You are late for breakfast." King Sebastian Ashford noted as he regarded his son with a wondering gaze, his similar blue eyes soft with an underlying concern.

"I drank quite a lot at the party yesterday." He replied and his father nodded, returning his gaze to his plate.

Damon prepared himself for a gentle scolding once he met his mother's skeptical gaze.

"Do you have a headache?" She asked instead, her chocolate brown eyes softening.

Before he could reply, someone speared his abdomen with their elbow while another hand came behind his back and tugged at his long silver hair.

He winced softly in pain before he could stop himself.

His mother was already on her feet, her face deeply troubled.

"I will head to the kitchen and personally make you some soup." She said seriously and Damon nodded frantically in rejection to her offer.

"I am fine mother, truly." He admitted before he glared at his twin siblings that were half a decade younger than him.

The two girls seized every opportunity they got to disturb and remind him of their existence.

The youngest, his eleven year old brother was a rather serious young man that did not have time for pranks.

For that he was grateful because he already had enough teasing from his sisters.

He watched in relief as his mother sat down and they all continued their meal amidst small chatter and conversation.

"Dear, I wanted to remind you that I still have a list of eligible princesses that you could like. Please consider the thought this time." Queen Eleanor, his mother, said to him and all attention drifted from his rebellious twin sisters that were voicing their thoughts on how they did not want to get married, even though they were both nineteen and nearly twenty.

The food in Damon's mouth suddenly tasted sour when the entire room grew silent. Everyone was eagerly waiting for his reply.