Chapter 125
Elena's POV
The words came out in a rush, breathless and desperate. Not at all how I'd imagined proposing to anyone, if I'd ever imagined it at all. But once they were out, I couldn't take them back. Didn't want to take them back.
Caleb went completely still. For a long moment, he just stared at me, and I saw a dozen emotions flicker across his face too fast to name.
For one terrible moment, I thought he might laugh. Or worse—pity me.
Then his eyes flashed full amber. Gold overtaking everything in a heartbeat.
"Elena." My name came out rough. Strained. Like he was fighting to stay coherent. "Do you—do you understand what you're saying?"
I tightened my grip on his wrist. "Yes."
"I don't do temporary. I don't do convenient. If you're mine, you're mine. One mate. For life. No do-overs. No changing your mind when your family pressures you or Damon comes crawling back or your father—"
"I know."
He blinked. "You—what?"
"I know," I repeated, stronger this time. I released his wrist and took his hand instead, lacing our fingers together. His skin was so warm compared to mine. "I know what I'm saying. I know what it means. And I'm asking anyway. Because if I'm going to give my life to someone—if I'm going to promise forever—it should be to you. It should have always been you."
My wolf, I realized distantly, feeling her again. She's not whimpering anymore. She's not scared. She's singing.
For the first time in my life, my wolf wasn't fighting me. Wasn't retreating. She was pressed against my ribs like she wanted to burst through skin and bone just to reach him, and I understood with sudden, visceral clarity what people meant when they talked about finding their mate. This recognition. This rightness.
Caleb's eyes were still burning gold. His hand trembled slightly in mine—the only outward sign that he was anything less than perfectly controlled.
"If you marry me," he said slowly, each word careful and deliberate, "there's no going back. Do you understand? I will be yours until the day I die. I will not share you. I will not stand by and watch you choose duty over us ever again. I will tear down anyone who tries to hurt you, including your father. Including my own family."
He leaned closer, his free hand coming up to cup my jaw. His thumb brushed over my cheekbone with devastating gentleness.
"So I need you to be sure, Elena. Because once you're mine, I'm never letting you go."
The intensity in his voice, in his eyes, should have terrified me. Should have sent me running. But all I felt was a strange, fierce calm settling over me like a mantle. Like I'd been wandering lost in fog my entire life and finally—finally—found solid ground.
"I'm sure," I whispered. "I'm so sure it scares me. But not as much as the thought of losing you."
For one heartbeat, neither of us moved. The wind howled around us, tearing at my veil, whipping his loose tie against my arm. Twenty stories below, the city hummed with indifferent life.
Then Caleb's control snapped.
He pulled me against him with bruising force, one arm banding around my waist, the other hand sliding into my hair. His mouth found mine in a kiss that was nothing like the controlled, careful touches we'd shared before. This was raw. Desperate. A claiming as much as a question.
I clutched at his shoulders, kissing him back with everything I had. Pouring all my fear and hope and stubborn, terrified love into the press of my lips against his.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Caleb rested his forehead against mine. His eyes had faded back to their usual color, but I could still see flecks of gold swimming in their depths.
"We should go," he murmured. "Before they come looking for you."
I shook my head. "I have a better plan."
---
Third Person POV
Meanwhile, twenty floors below, chaos had descended on the hotel's event coordination room.
Isabella stood at the center of the storm, phone pressed to her ear, spine rigid with tension. Around her, coordinators rushed between computers and tablets, pulling up security footage, checking exit logs, coordinating with valet attendants.
"Find him," Marcus's voice crackled from someone's phone speaker. "I don't care what it takes. Pull every second of footage from every camera between here and the city limits."
"Sir, we're trying, but—"
"Try harder."
Donald paced by the windows, his face flushed with barely controlled fury. Vivian sat in one of the chairs, hands twisted together in her lap.
"How long until the ceremony was supposed to start?" Isabella asked the lead coordinator.
The woman checked her tablet. "Five minutes, ma'am. The guests are already seated."
"Can we delay? Standard—"
"The music just stopped," someone interrupted from the doorway. "The officiant is taking the stage."
Every head in the room swiveled toward the coordinator who'd spoken.
"What?" Isabella's voice could cut glass. "We specifically told them to wait for our signal."
"I don't know, ma'am," the coordinator's face had gone white. She started speaking urgently into her headset, trying to reach the floor manager.
"The issue has been resolved and they're ready to proceed," came the only response through the radio.
"That's impossible," Donald snapped. "Damon is still missing. Elena is still—"
He stopped. Looked at Vivian. Then at Isabella.
"Where is Elena?"
The question hung in the air like a guillotine blade.
---
Elena's POV
We stood in the dim backstage area outside the ballroom, hidden by heavy curtains and shadows. I could hear the murmur of hundreds of guests on the other side. Could hear the officiant's voice beginning the opening remarks.
My heart was pounding. My hands were shaking. But not from fear.
Caleb stood beside me, close enough that our shoulders almost touched. He'd refastened his shirt, straightened his tie, transformed himself from the wild-eyed man on the rooftop back into something that could pass for civilized.
I'd found a coordinator. Told her we were ready. Watched her face cycle through confusion, relief, and uncertainty before she'd hurried off to radio the ballroom.
"We don't have to do this," Caleb said quietly. "We can leave. Go anywhere. You don't have to face them."
I looked up at him. Saw the protectiveness in his expression. The barely controlled fury at everyone who'd ever hurt me.
But I didn't want to run anymore.
"I need them to see," I said. "All of them. I need them to know this isn't a consolation prize. This isn't settling. This is my choice."