"Dam Dam."

Damon's eyes crinkled at the nickname Aila used to call him when they were kids. They first met when she was five and stubbornly changed his name, not because she couldn't pronounce it. No, the girl said she didn't like his name. She ignored his constant protests until he relented, and it finally stuck.

"You remembered?" Damon asked her.

"Not all of it. Just parts of that night.." Aila trailed off, "I guess we escaped?" Damon nodded his head, "Thank you."

His brows drew together in confusion, "For?"

"Rescuing me? Helping me escape.. That's twice now, actually…"

Damon shook his head before closing the small gap between them; he lowered his head so their foreheads were touching, "There's no need to thank me, Aila. We pinky promised to protect each other," He winked before claiming her lips and tangling his hands in her hair. She responded with a small moan and let him dominate her mouth. When they parted, breathlessly, Aila could see his eyes flickering like a light between Darius trying to take control and Damon. What was evident was the desire burning in them.

A desire that reflected in her own. But she resisted the urge to get hot and sweaty in a strange room. Pulling back, she sighed and slipped past Damon; she swivelled around in the grand room. Her eyes settled on a glass counter, revealing a crown on the inside of it.

Her brows drew together; she was so focused on her lost childhood memories that she didn't register the furniture in the room they were in. Aila glanced around at her surroundings; she felt as though she'd found the 'bat cave'. It looked similar to a museum with relics showcased and weapons hanging on the walls.

Not to mention the dead, rich parents..

"Oh, honey. That was too dark, even for you.." Malia said. But dark humour was what got her through things, sometimes.

"What is this place?" Aila stepped up to the glass with the golden crown in, admiring it and guessing how old it was. She used her arm to wipe away the top coat of dust from the glass so she could see the crown better.

Damon came up from behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, letting his nose rest in the nape of her neck and inhaled deeply, "Hmmm, I don't know what it's called, but these underground rooms have been here for centuries."

Aila turned her head to look at him, her lips parted in shock, "Centuries!? The mansion isn't that old, surely?"

Damon shook his head, "No, it's not that old. There was a fire in the original building, but these underground rooms and tunnels didn't get caught in it. It holds all of the Cross diaries, old weapons like the swords over there.. I guess anything you need, even escape routes, like the passage we took."

"And you've only been here twice?" Aila spun on the spot, leaning against the glass counter now, Damon's hands still rested on her hips, sending little sparks of desire to her core. Again, she ignored it and focused.

"Yeah. The first time was with your mum.. and then the second time was with you.."

"My mum?" Aila waited for him to explain further.

"Yeah, a week before.. well, before they were killed, actually. She was the one to show me the escape route.. As a kid, I didn't think much of it. Until the hunters attacked.. As we've said before, your parents knew something was going to happen and needed to secure your safety.."

Aila bit the inside of her cheek in thought, "That's a lot of responsibility for a 12 year-old.. But in the years you were here without me.. you never thought about returning down here? I mean, no offence, but you could have at least cleaned the place up.. there's glass still on the floor, dust on the counters.."

Damon chuckled, "You had guards as well. I think they knew the escape routes as well, but they died along the way, and it was just us two.. And If I could enter here, I would have."

"What do you mean? If you could?" Aila wasn't sure if fatigue was making her silly, and she couldn't keep up with him or if there was some information she was missing.

Damon sighed, "You have to be a Cross to enter down here. Or, in our case, have someone of the Cross bloodline to gain entry down here. Looks like your ancestors knew some witches back then as well.. It's bound by magic, and the only way to open the bookcase fully is with your blood. The Cross blood."

Aila lifted her hand up and looked at her small bump on her finger where she had been pricked, "Hmmm, looks like my ancestors were tough on security even then."

"It seems like it. But there is quite a lot down here that does need to be in a secure location. Look around, relics that historians would cherish and want in a museum, and you have your family portraits in another room looking like an art gallery."

Aila looked at the grand room; the candlelight chandelier gave it a spooky and relaxed atmosphere. Damon stepped back when she started looking at some of the pieces in the counters and the weapons on the walls. Her crystal-blue eyes were lit up in awe at such wondrous objects. Turning around, she asked, "Where are the paintings?"

Damon began leading her down another hallway that lit upon their entry. There were cobwebs above them, but Aila tried not to look for the spiders that spun them. She shuddered and distracted herself, "Are my parents in there?"

"Yeah, when I was here with your mum.. I saw it, and the place used to be spotless. I think she used to use one of the rooms down here. It looked quite lived in."

Aila's brows drew together, "What a strange woman my mum was.. The mansion is huge! What would she want down here?"

"Maybe peace and quiet from the pack?" Damon shrugged before opening a door for her to enter.

"True, but mind-links don't really give you that option of hiding away.." Aila trailed off as she walked to the first portrait in the room that stood out to her.

In a golden frame was a painting of her parents, and in between them was her as a child. Aila sighed, comparing her eyes to her mothers, seeing the resemblance and no difference in their eyes at all. What did Gabriel mean? She glanced at her dad and felt the tears fall again. Her makeup was definitely ruined from the night.

Her dad sat there with the eight year-old Aila sitting on his lap. Like most of the men in the pack, he was a big man, but he looked to be an impressive 6ft6, his body wide, packed full of muscles that you could see underneath the suit he wore. A tattoo covered one of his hands, the image of a wolf furiously baring its teeth. She knew her dad was a good-looking man, anyone could see that, and to look at the couple, her parents, sitting next to each other was quite a sight. They were both beautiful and powerful.

His dark features clashed against her mum's pale complexion, but together they somehow matched. Her dad, Titus, had dark green-brown eyes that swirled with knowledge among his years, yet his face was young looking for his age. His brown hair and beard went well with his olive complexion. Sighing, she looked between the pair, not seeing any resemblance of her father in her, but from what a few pack members had said, she somehow did resemble him, and that at least made her feel better.

Damon was walking past and observing the other paintings, shaking his head at how one person had white hair in each image. As was what the Cross' were well known for. He continued walking until the last painting, a painting that seemed the oldest and possibly one of the first to be put in the room. His eyes widened when he glanced from the male in the picture to the female standing next to him.

"Aila…."

Aila turned around from another painting she was checking out and reached out for Damon, only to come to a short stop when she saw the painting he was looking at. The white-haired female looked exactly like her, and when she looked at the golden plaque nailed to the wall, she read the name Gabriel initially called her.

Amelia Cross.