Chapter 21
Elena's POV
Damon stood beside his midnight blue supercar, arms crossed, face carved from stone. His eyes tracked me like a predator watching prey, and when I got close enough, I saw the red veins webbing through the whites.
He looked like he hadn't slept.
"Elena Cross."
The way he said my full name. Formal. Controlled. Like he was trying very hard not to explode.
"Where were you last night?"
My heart kicked against my ribs. I'd known this was coming. Known it the second I saw his car.
"At the bar. Crashed at her place after I got drunk."
Then his expression changed. His eyes went wide. Then dangerous.
"You don't smell like Lila." He moved closer, and I saw the exact moment recognition hit. "You were with someone else. A man."
"Damon—"
"Who?" The word came out sharp enough to cut. "Who the fuck were you with?"
Students were starting to stare. I could feel their eyes on us, phones probably already out.
"Can we not do this here?" I kept my voice low. Steady. "Please."
For a second I thought he'd refuse. His hands were clenched into fists, body vibrating with barely contained rage.
Then he jerked his head toward his car. "Get in."
---
We ended up at a coffee shop two blocks from campus.
Damon ordered for both of us without asking what I wanted. Black coffee for him. Some caramel thing for me that I didn't touch.
He sat across from me in the back corner booth, as far from other people as possible.
The silence was suffocating.
"So," he said finally. Voice too calm. Too controlled. "You want to explain?"
I wrapped my hands around the hot cup, needing something to hold. "I went out with Lila last night. Had too much to drink. A friend gave me a place to crash."
"What friend."
"Does it matter?"
I looked down at my coffee. Steam rose between us like smoke.
"I looked for you all night," he said, and his voice changed. Softened. Like he was the victim here. "I was worried sick. I thought something happened to you."
His jaw tightened. "I drove to your dorm. Your roommate wouldn't let me up."
Good for Lila.
"Elena." He reached across the table, tried to take my hand. I pulled back. His eyes flashed. "I don't know what I did wrong. But if this is about Scarlett—"
"It's not about Scarlett."
"Then what?"
Everything. It's about everything.
But I didn't say that. Just shook my head.
The silence stretched again. He sat back, studying me like I was a puzzle he couldn't solve.
"I don't understand you anymore," he said.
You never did.
"Look." He ran a hand through his hair. The gesture was tired. Almost vulnerable. "I know I've been... difficult lately. The thing at The Glitch Bar, the way I've been handling Scarlett. I get it. You're upset."
I said nothing.
"But Elena." His voice dropped. Gentle now. Pleading. "I've always seen you as family. You know that, right?"
Something cold settled in my chest.
"What?"
"The blood pact was an agreement between our elders." He was choosing his words carefully now. "But that doesn't mean I have to... that we have to..."
He trailed off. Looked away.
And I understood.
"You're like family to me," he continued, and he actually looked sincere. Like he thought this would comfort me. "I want to protect you. Take care of you. But romantic love? That's not—we don't need that."
Family.
Not romantic love.
"Then," I heard myself say, "we should keep more distance. To avoid misunderstandings with your Scarlett."
"I've already talked to her," he said quickly. "About The Glitch Bar. About the rumors. I told her you didn't leak anything. That it was one of my father's people."
I blinked. "You lied to her."
"I protected you." Like he expected gratitude. "She's not mad at you anymore."
How generous.
"Scarlett's actually really understanding about all this," he continued. "She knows about the blood pact. She knows you and I have... history. She said if you can accept her, she's willing to treat you like family too."
My throat closed.
Again.
"We can make this work," Damon was saying, leaning forward now, eyes bright with the certainty of someone who'd already decided everything. "The three of us. You fulfill the blood pact. I have Scarlett. Everyone's happy."
Everyone except me.
But I didn't say that either.
"She's actually kind of like me," he added. "Easygoing. Not jealous or uptight. I think you two would get along great once you got to know each other."
Uptight.
He thinks I'm uptight because I don't want to share him.
I looked at him. Really looked at him.
And I realized: he genuinely didn't understand why this was wrong.
He'd already decided my future. Already arranged everything to suit himself. And now he was waiting for me to thank him for it.
"Can we go back to how things were?" he asked.
I pulled my hand back gently, giving him the answer he wanted. "Of course."
I just wanted this to end so I could leave.
"I'm glad." He sat back, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.
I picked up my coffee. Took a sip. It was too sweet. Made my teeth ache.
"Though I have to ask." His voice changed. Sharpened. "Last night. You really didn't—you and whoever you stayed with. Nothing happened?"
"Nothing happened," I said. The lie tasted bitter on my tongue.
Damon's eyes narrowed. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, studying me like I was a suspect in an interrogation room.
"Elena." His voice dropped lower. Almost gentle. "You know there are some men out there who are dangerous. Who would take advantage of—"
"He's not like that."
The words came out before I could stop them.
Silence.
Damon's expression shifted. Something dark flickered across his face.
"How do you know?" His voice was sharp now. Cutting. "You barely know him. How long have you even—"
"I just know."
"That's not an answer."
I looked down at my untouched coffee. The caramel swirl had dissolved into murky brown.
"I'm not trying to interrogate you." He forced his voice softer. Reasonable. "I'm just worried. You're too trusting, Elena. Too... innocent. It's easy for someone to manipulate—"
"I'm not being manipulated."
He sat back. Crossed his arms. The muscle in his jaw twitched.
"That thing you said before. At the dorm." He paused. "About having someone you like—were you with him last night?"
My heart stopped.
I should have said yes. Should have confirmed it. Ended this charade right here.
But the words wouldn't come.
"No," I whispered. "There's no one."
I watched his shoulders relax. Watched relief wash over his face.
And I hated myself for it.