Chapter Thirty Nine.

Chapter Thirty Nine.
Jhelani's POV:

I sighed and shut my laptop, feeling conflicted. I was still bummed about the job I lost and it didn't make it better that I was trying to apply for jobs, but I haven't found any job with a single opening and it was infuriating.

If only I hadn't wasted my time there, but it wasn't entirely on me that I only got naturally curious and wanted to know the truth. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that Damon purchased a building.

The brothers definitely have more stuffs they're hiding, and I wasn't going to stop until I've gotten all of it. I've lost my job anyways and if there's something I can use to pass time instead of job hunting, it's this.

A knock on the door disrupted my thoughts. I groaned inwardly and went to answer the door, but wasn't too surprised when I saw that it was just Jace and Kian.

They've been doing this for the past two days now. I'm still pissed at them, but they've been trying to see me with whatever excuse they could find and they always come up with the lamest excuses.

Yesterday, it was because they thought I'd have trouble staying alone. Like, how have I been surviving all these while then?

“What do you want this time around? Protect me from the monsters under my bed?” I teased, not withholding my sarcastic remarks.

Jace chuckled softly. “We just came to drop off groceries we think you might need. But if you think there are monsters under your bed, then we're more than happy to stay until they're gone.”

I glared at him, snatching groceries from his hands. “You two are lucky I'm actually in need of groceries, especially since it's on you guys I got fired. Also, this is the best excuse you've come up with in the past two days.”

They kept mumbling some words I wasn't able to keep up with, closing the door behind them. I opened the fridge and started arranging all the groceries inside.

“What about Damon?” I asked, not realizing I've been holding my breath all this while.

“He had some meetings to attend,” Jace replied.

I scoffed, pouring a glass of juice for the three of us. “He's been attending the meeting for the past two days? Because the last time I checked, meetings don't take days. And I haven't seen him since that day either.”

Jace laughed a little, trying to break the tension that had started forming in the air. “Why? You miss him that bad?” he teased, a playful grin tugging his lips as he reached for the glass of juice. “Didn’t know you were this attached already.”

I rolled my eyes, pretending not to care, though I could feel my cheeks heat up slightly. “Don’t flatter yourself. I just find it strange that he disappears without a word. Most people at least say goodbye before vanishing for days.”

“Yeah, well… Damon’s not most people,” Jace murmured, still wearing a grin, but his eyes drifted away the moment I mentioned his Damon's name. He reached for an apple from the grocery bag and started tossing it lightly between his hands, like he was suddenly uncomfortable.

I caught that. I always did. “You’re avoiding my question,” I pointed out, crossing my arms and leaning against the counter.

“Am not,” he said too quickly, his grin tightening. “You’re just… overthinking, Snowflake. Damon’s fine, I promise.”

“Snowflake?” I raised an eyebrow. That's new.

He chuckled nervously. “Uh—just a nickname. You know, because you’re always cold and mean to me.”

Kian gave him a look that said shut up now, but Jace just shrugged and took a sip of his juice like it was no big deal.

I sighed, rubbing my temple. “You two are acting weird. All of you. First Damon disappears, and now you two are hanging around me like watchdogs. What’s really going on?”

Kian finally spoke, his voice quiet but serious. “Nothing’s going on. We just… don’t want you to be alone right now. You’ve been through a lot lately.”

“That’s funny,” I muttered. “Because it feels less like you’re protecting me and more like you’re monitoring me.”

His jaw tightened, and I saw the flicker of guilt in his eyes before he masked it. “It’s not like that,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing. “We just worry, that’s all.”

“Right,” I said flatly, turning away from them to start cleaning the counter.

The silence stretched awkwardly between us, and I could feel Jace’s gaze on my back. He tried humming a tune to lighten the mood, even cracked a stupid joke about how I’d survive the apocalypse better than any of them because I was “too stubborn to die,” but I didn’t laugh this time.

He stopped humming eventually, and I heard Kian shift beside him, restless. It was like they wanted to tell me something but couldn’t.

When they finally left, I was more confused than relieved. The apartment felt quieter than usual, and no matter how many times I tried to convince myself that everything was fine, it didn’t feel that way.

The next few days were strange. Kian called constantly — asking where I was, what I was doing, if I’d eaten. It was sweet at first, then suffocating. Jace showed up every morning with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, cracking jokes about how he was “checking if I hadn’t burned the apartment down yet.”

But behind that fake cheerfulness, I could sense something else. And I didn’t know why.

One evening, I stepped out to throw away the trash and froze the moment I saw it — a single black feather lying on my doorstep. It wasn’t from any ordinary bird. It was longer, sharper, almost glistening under the faint light of the hallway.

My stomach twisted as I picked it up carefully. It felt oddly warm in my palm, and I didn’t know why that scared me more.

I glanced around, but no one was there. The hallway was silent.

I threw it into the bin and hurried back inside, locking the door behind me. But that uneasy feeling didn’t go away.

While I sat on the couch scrolling through job listings I wasn’t even reading, I heard something outside. At first, it was faint. But then came a low, distant howl from the woods beyond the apartment block.

My heart jumped.

It wasn’t the kind of sound you could mistake for a dog. It was deeper, sadder and wild.

I swallowed, pushing the curtain aside. The night outside looked strange. For a moment, I thought I saw something move by the trees — a tall shadow, half-hidden.

And then I heard it. My name.

But I knew that voice anywhere. Damon’s. I rushed to the door, heart pounding, calling out, “Damon?”

There was no response.

The air outside felt colder. When I finally stepped out, the corridor was empty. But right there — right on my door — were deep claw marks, jagged and fresh, cuttin
g through the wood. My breath caught in my throat.

He was here.