Chapter 106
Elena's POV
"Look." Damon's voice dropped. "I have a solution. We go through with the engagement."
I stared at him.
"Not a real one," he added quickly. "A performance. We announce it, do the ceremony, let the families calm down. But privately, we keep living our own lives. You do your thing, I do mine. We just play the part in public."
"Play the part," I repeated slowly.
"Think about it. Your father gets what he wants—the alliance, the protection, whatever financial bailout he's angling for. My family backs off, stops monitoring my every move. Grandfather gets his precious blood pact fulfilled."
He made it sound so reasonable. So simple.
"And in private?" I asked.
"In private, nothing changes. You go your way, I go mine. We're both adults. We can handle appearing together at family events a few times a year." He shrugged. "Scarlett understands it's political. She'll deal."
The casual mention of Scarlett made something twist in my chest. Not jealousy—I was long past that. More like disbelief that he could be so confident in his ability to juggle both relationships, as if we were interchangeable pieces on his game board.
"I can't," I said.
His expression tightened. "Why not?"
Because I have someone I like. Because even a fake engagement would be unacceptable to Caleb. And Scarlett's threat at the ski resort still echoed in my ears—Stay away from what's mine.
"I have someone," I said carefully. "Even if it's fake, he won't accept it."
The air between us shifted. Damon's eyes narrowed, searching my face with an intensity that made me want to step back.
"You're together?" His voice went flat.
"That's not—" I caught myself. "The point is, I won't do a fake engagement. I won't pretend to be your fiancée."
Damon's jaw worked. "So you're just going to watch your mother get hurt again? Watch your father lose everything? The Cross family will collapse without Vance backing. You know that."
He knew exactly where to press, exactly which wound to reopen.
"And if I refuse and they arrange another fiancée for me?" he continued. "Some other pack alliance? Your father's goals will never be met. Your family will lose their standing permanently. Is that what you want?"
"Don't," I whispered. "Don't do this."
"I'm not doing anything. I'm offering you a way out. A compromise that saves everyone." He moved closer again, and I could smell his pheromones trying to push for dominance, for submission. "Unless you'd rather sacrifice your family for some guy?"
"This has nothing to do with him."
"Doesn't it?" His smile was cold. "Because from where I'm standing, you were fine with the arrangement until recently. Until someone started getting in your head, telling you that you deserve better, that you should follow your heart or whatever bullshit line he's feeding you."
My hands shook. "You don't know anything about him."
"Then tell me." His voice took on an edge. "Tell me about this man who's so important you'd throw away your family's future. How far have you gone with him? How serious is this?"
"That's none of your business."
"It is when you're supposed to be my future mate." The possessiveness in his tone made my skin crawl. "Tell me the truth, Elena. Have you slept with him?"
The question hung in the frigid air. I stared at Damon, at the tightness around his eyes, the way his hands had curled into fists.
"I'm not answering that."
"You don't have to. Your face just did." He laughed, the sound bitter. "You know what's sad? Girls who give themselves away too quickly never get valued. They look desperate. Cheap. Like they're not worth the effort."
Rage flared hot and bright in my chest. "How dare you—"
"I'm just saying what everyone will think when they find out." He cut me off. "The Cross girl who—"
"Stop." My voice cracked. "Just stop talking."
We stood in the gathering dusk, breath misting between us. A group of medical staff passed by on the sidewalk, their chatter a brief intrusion before fading into the distance.
"I need time," I finally said. "To think. To talk to... to him. This would affect him too."
Damon's laugh was sharp. "How considerate. Have you thought about how every choice you make affects your mother? How she's the one who'll pay for your selfishness?"
"I'll find a way to protect her," I said, hating how my voice wavered. "But not like this."
"There is no other way. This is it. This is the only option that saves you and me." He stepped back, straightening his coat. "But fine. Think about it. Talk to your man. Just remember—I can always find another fiancée. And you have no way out."
He walked away before I could respond, leaving me standing in the cold with his words ringing in my ears.
I turned toward the street, needing to move, to get away from the hospital, from him, from everything. My phone vibrated—probably Caleb checking in—but I couldn't look at it. Not yet.
Not when Damon's voice still echoed in my head, mixing with my mother's warnings.
---
Damon's POV
I stood by the planter long after she disappeared around the corner, my feet rooted to the concrete like I'd forgotten how to move.
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, restless and growling.
I watched her as she moved, her gait still uneven from the ankle injury—the one she'd gotten jumping out a window to get away from me.
Away from us. From the engagement, from everything we were supposed to be.
My eyes traced the line of her waist where the coat cinched, the shape of her legs with each limping step. When had I started noticing things like that?
Memories I'd buried surfaced without permission. Summer afternoons at Blackwood when we were teenagers and she'd come out of the pool, water streaming down her arms, darkening her hair. The way she'd blushed that time she caught me staring.
I'd always written it off as shyness. Innocence. The good girl who would be my mate through the blood pact.
I'd made damn sure no other male got close enough to find out what else might be there.
How many guys had I warned off over the years? How many times had I casually mentioned "my future wife" within earshot of anyone who looked at her too long? I'd told myself it was protection. Keeping the vultures away from someone who didn't know how to defend herself.
And now she was giving all that softness—that careful, gentle attention she used to aim at me—to someone else. Someone who made her smile in ways I apparently never had. Someone she was willing to risk everything for.
While I got the sharp edges. The cold refusals. The way she flinched when I got too close, like my touch burned.
My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached.
I couldn't stop the images flooding my mind. Elena curled against someone else's chest, her face peaceful instead of guarded. Elena laughing, really laughing, not the polite smile she gave at family dinners.
Had he kissed her? Of course he had. The way she'd deflected my question—she'd all but confirmed it.
Had they done more than kiss?
My hands curled into fists, nails biting into my palms hard enough that I felt skin break. The sharp pain barely registered through the white noise building in my head.
The thing that had always been mine had been taken while I wasn't looking.