Chapter 51
Elena's POV
The building sat at the edge of the resort, a modern facility with floor-to-ceiling windows. By the time I reached it, my fingers were numb and my breath came in short gasps. Inside, the air was sterile and too warm. A nurse at the front desk directed me down a hallway lined with plastic chairs.
From behind the closed door of treatment room two, I heard a scream. Raw with pain.
"—need to reset it before her enhanced healing sets it wrong," a doctor's voice filtered through. "This is going to hurt."
Another scream. Longer this time. I sank into one of the plastic chairs, hands clenched in my lap. Then I heard Damon.
"I'm here, baby. I'm right here." His voice was low, soothing. "Just hold on. It'll be over soon."
"It hurts," Scarlett sobbed. "Damon, it hurts—"
"I know. Just breathe. Look at me, okay? Just look at me."
The treatment dragged on. More screams. More of Damon's gentle reassurances. Finally, silence. When they wheeled Scarlett out on a gurney, Damon walked beside her, one hand resting on the rail. He didn't even glance my direction as they passed.
I stayed in the plastic chair, staring at the empty hallway, wondering when exactly I'd become a ghost.
---
An hour later, I was still there. The sky outside had shifted to that deep blue twilight that comes early in winter. I'd pulled out my phone twice, thumb hovering over Caleb's contact, but each time I'd locked the screen again.
The door to Scarlett's recovery room was cracked open. I shouldn't have strained my ears to catch the low murmur of voices inside. But I did.
"How are you feeling?" Damon's voice came first.
"Like I got hit by a truck." Scarlett's response was weak, thready. "I thought I was going to die, Damon. When I hit that tree, all I could think was... I'm not ready to leave you."
"Don't talk like that. The doctor said you'll be fine. Your healing's already started."
A pause. Then, quieter: "Can I ask you something?"
"What is it?"
"Why did I hit the tree?"
My breath caught.
"When I started to fall." Scarlett's voice trembled, perfectly calibrated between hurt and confusion. "I was so scared, Damon. I reached for her hand, but she... she pulled away."
Silence. Long enough that I could hear my own heartbeat thudding in my ears.
"That doesn't sound like her," Damon said finally, but there was uncertainty in his voice.
"I know." Scarlett let out a shaky breath. "I know you two have history. And I know she doesn't like me. But I didn't think she'd—" She broke off with a sob. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't say this. It's probably just the painkillers making me emotional."
"No, tell me. What happened exactly?"
"We were on that gentle slope, the one near the evergreens. I was nervous, so I asked if I could hold her hand for balance. She seemed annoyed, but she agreed. Then..." Another pause. "I stumbled. I grabbed her hand tighter—maybe too tight, I don't know—and she yanked her arm away. Hard. I lost my balance completely."
"She yanked away?"
"I don't think she meant for me to fall," Scarlett added quickly. "She was probably just uncomfortable with me touching her. But when I was sliding down, I looked back and she was just standing there. Not moving."
Her voice broke into tears. "It's okay," Damon murmured. "You're safe now."
"I don't want to cause problems between you two. Please don't be angry with her. It was an accident. I'm sure it was just an accident."
Through the crack in the door, I could see shadows moving. Damon's pheromones had changed—darker now, heavier, like a storm building just before it breaks.
I stood up quietly and walked down the hall to the waiting area, my legs feeling disconnected from my body. She'd lied. Deliberately, carefully lied. And Damon was going to believe her.
Scarlett's room door clicked shut. Footsteps in the hall. I didn't turn around, but I knew Damon was there. Could smell him.
He walked past me without a word, straight to the nurse's station. "I need to arrange premium care for the patient in room four. Private nursing, shifter medical protocols, whatever she needs."
I should have stood up. Should have said something. Instead, I sat frozen, watching his reflection in the dark window. When he finished at the desk, he turned. Our eyes met.
"Elena Cross." My full name, formal and cold as the snow outside. "Let's talk. Outside."
Not a request. An order.
---
We stopped in a small landscaped area near the medical center's front doors. Snow-covered shrubs lined a walkway lit by solar lamps. Damon stood with his back to me for a long moment, hands shoved in his pockets. When he finally turned, his expression was unreadable.
"Tell me what happened on that slope."
I swallowed. "She lost her balance and fell."
"That's it? That's all you have to say?"
"What do you want me to say?"
His jaw tightened. "I want you to tell me the truth. How did Scarlett end up sliding down that hill and hitting a tree?"
I took a breath, forcing my voice to stay steady. "We were on the beginner slope. You left to do your run. She said she didn't want poles, so I stayed close in case she needed help. We got to a slope near some evergreens and she stopped. Started talking. Then she let go of my hand and just... tilted backward. I didn't realize what was happening until she was already sliding."
"Let go of your hand?" Damon's eyes narrowed. "She was holding your hand?"
"She grabbed it earlier. Said she needed help balancing."
"And you didn't hold on when she started to fall." It wasn't a question.
I felt something cold settle in my stomach. "It happened so fast. I didn't—"
"You didn't what, Elena?" He took a step closer. "You didn't react? You didn't try to help her?"
His pheromones pressed against me like a physical weight, pure and deliberate. I stepped back instinctively.
I said quietly. "I didn't expect her to just... fall like that."
"She told me you pulled away. That she grabbed your hand for support and you yanked it back."
Heat flooded my face. "That's not—"
"Is it true or not?"
"She said she didn't need help! She told me not to hover, that she had it under control!"
Damon stared at me for a long moment. Then he shook his head slowly. "You're telling me Scarlett—who was terrified, who could barely stand on skis—told you she didn't need help, and you just believed her?"
"Yes."
"And when she fell, you just stood there."
"I froze." My voice cracked. "I was scared—"
"But you didn't try to grab her. Didn't call out. Didn't do anything." Each word landed like a punch.
I wrapped my arms around myself. "What are you accusing me of, Damon?"