Chapter 179
Elena's POV
When only Randy and I remained, the air seemed to grow heavier.
He looked at me, his expression complex. I remembered how he used to look at me as a child—warm, kind, like a real grandfather. Back then I was just a little girl, and at family gatherings he would always give me candy, pat my head, make me feel special.
But that was long ago, before everything became complicated.
"Are you with Caleb of your own free will?" he asked directly, his voice holding no accusation, only weary curiosity.
I didn't hesitate. "Yes. I really like Caleb."
Speaking these words felt liberating. No hiding, no pretending, just truth.
"I've liked him for a long time," I continued, feeling my cheeks flush. "The engagement with Damon... that was because of many things that happened. Family pressure, my father's demands. But it was never what I truly wanted."
Randy studied me carefully, as if judging the truthfulness of my words.
"Now that Damon has left," I said softly, "I feel this is heaven's arrangement. Giving me a chance to choose the person I truly want."
Randy was silent for a long time, then nodded slightly, seeming to accept my answer.
I took a deep breath.
"Grandfather, perhaps you haven't really gotten to know Caleb before." My voice became earnest, carrying emotions I'd suppressed for too long. "He's truly a good person, and excellent too. He's smart, hardworking, kind—even after experiencing so much hurt, he still chooses not to let those wounds define him."
I felt my eyes growing hot, but I forced myself to continue. "Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve him. He could have chosen anyone, gone anywhere, but he chose me. Being with him, I truly feel lucky."
Randy's expression softened. I saw something flash in his eyes—perhaps recognition, perhaps regret, perhaps deep guilt for what he'd done.
He was silent for a long time, so long I thought he wouldn't speak again. Then he finally said: "In my will, I've left him some shares. Not much."
My heart raced.
"Caleb has suffered many wrongs in this family," he continued, his voice carrying weariness and remorse. "This is... compensation."
Compensation. The word was too light to encompass years of pain, but it was a start. It was acknowledgment. It was recognition.
"As for Damon," Randy's tone became stern, "he hasn't made anything of himself. His future depends on his own choices."
I felt relieved by Randy's arrangement. It couldn't erase the past, but it meant Caleb was finally getting the recognition he deserved.
---
Suddenly, a roar came from the distance. Randy's face changed. His body stiffened, eyes wide, as if sensing something terrible.
He struggled to sit up, and I quickly supported him. "What's wrong?"
"Elena!" His voice was urgent and hoarse, filled with a panic I'd never heard from him. "Go stop them quickly!"
"What?" I was stunned, completely confused. "Stop who?"
"They're fighting..." he gasped, his trembling finger pointing toward the window. "In the forest behind."
His hand suddenly gripped my wrist, the force causing me pain.
My heart sank violently. "Damon is at the hospital too?"
My pupils contracted sharply. Caleb. Damon. Fighting. No, no, no—
"Go! Now!" Randy almost roared, his eyes full of desperation and fear. "Only you can stop them! Elena, go quickly!"
I didn't hesitate. I pulled my wrist free and rushed out of the room.
I had to stop them. I had to get there before everything became irreversible.
I burst out the hospital's back door, the coniferous forest reserve right in front of me. Sunlight was blocked by the dense canopy, making the forest appear dark and dangerous.
I heard it—low growls, sounds of impact, and trees snapping.
I followed the sounds and plunged into the coniferous forest, pushing through dense branches. Branches scratched my cheeks and arms, my skirt was caught and torn by thorns, but I kept going forward. I could smell blood, and that intense pheromone scent that only comes when werewolves fight—anger, desperation, killing intent.
Then I saw them.
---
Damon's POV
I stood in the hospital corridor for a long time, staring at my grandfather's closed door.
Caleb had just come out, still holding that damned thermos. He glanced at me—just one glance—then walked past me as if I didn't exist.
That feeling of being ignored was worse than any insult.
Not anger. Not contempt. Just... indifference. As if I wasn't worth his emotional energy.
His shoulder brushed mine—not aggressively, just passing by, like I was an obstacle rather than a person.
Something inside me broke.
"Caleb."
He stopped but didn't turn around.
"We need to talk." My voice was steadier than expected.
"There's nothing to talk about." He kept walking.
"About Elena."
This time he turned around. His expression remained calm, but I saw something flash in his eyes—wariness, and perhaps a hint of possessiveness.
Nurses passed in the corridor, looking at us curiously. Caleb noticed, his jaw tightening.
"Not here. There's a coniferous forest behind the hospital. Ten minutes." With that, I turned toward the forest.
---
The coniferous forest was quiet at this hour. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled shadows on the ground. The air was thick with the scent of pine needles and earth, and deeper in, the musky smell of some wild animal.
I found a clearing and paced at its edge, my wolf restless beneath my skin.
Caleb emerged from the other side of the forest, his pace unhurried. He'd removed his suit jacket, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, as if prepared for something.
"You came," I said, hearing the hostility in my own voice.
"You demanded it." He stopped a few steps away, hands in his pockets. "Say what you need to say."
"How dare you." The words burst from me, more intense than I'd intended. "She was supposed to be mine."
Caleb's expression didn't change. "She was never yours."
"We grew up together! We had an engagement! She—"
"She had an engagement you never honored," he interrupted, his voice terrifyingly calm. "You chose Scarlett. So don't stand there pretending you care."
"I do care!" I stepped forward, hands clenched. "I fucking care!"
My wolf surged to the surface. "If you're not using her to get revenge on us, then why are you still here? Why come back to this damn family?"
"Because it's what I'm owed." His voice lowered, taking on a dangerous edge. "I've endured more pain than you can imagine. So yes, I came back. I'm taking everything that should have been mine."
"Including her."
"Especially her." His mouth curved into a smile without warmth. "Because she chose me. Not because of blood pacts, not because of family pressure, not because she had to. But because she wanted to. You'll never understand the connection between us."
Anger flooded through me like a tide. "You bastard—"
"Are you done?" He turned to leave. "I have things to do."
"We're not finished."
He stopped, looking back at me. "Aren't we?"
"If you won't leave her," I heard myself say, my voice roughened by the wolf's influence, "then I'll tear out your throat."
Silence.
Then Caleb laughed. A real laugh, low and dangerous. "You can try."
Heat exploded under my skin. Bones began to shift, fur breaking through the surface. My wolf was no longer content to be suppressed—it wanted out, wanted to fight, wanted to prove—
I let it come.
The transformation tore through me, faster than usual, driven by anger and desperation. Within seconds, I stood on four legs.
I lunged at him.