Chapter 72
Damon's POV
I sat on the bench downstairs at the hospital. My eyes burned. I hadn't slept. None of us had.
The memory pulled me back to last night.
The air in the hall had been thick. Oppressive.
"The blood pact must be honored." Randy's voice had been firm. Absolute. "Elena must be engaged to you this month. No exceptions."
I'd shot to my feet. "I refuse."
The room went silent.
Randy's eyes had narrowed. "You refuse?"
"I don't accept this pact." The words had come out harsh. Desperate. "I can't—"
"You dare?" His voice cracked like a whip.
"Then I'll mark Scarlett!" I'd shouted back. My control had snapped.
Randy's face had gone red. His hands clenched. And then I'd seen it—the shift in his eyes. The gold bleeding into the whites.
He was going to shift. Right there in the hall.
"Father—" Marcus had moved forward, but Randy waved him off.
"I'll show you," he'd snarled. "I'll show you what it means to be Alpha."
His body had started to change. His eyes went full gold. Fangs extended. His shoulders bulged, muscles rippling under his shirt.
But then something went wrong.
His lower body started sprouting coarse gray-white fur. But his upper body was still transforming—bones cracking, reshaping. The sounds were awful. Wet. Wrong. Like something inside him was tearing.
He'd screamed.
Isabella had screamed too.
Randy collapsed. Half-shifted. His upper body had reverted to human again, but his legs were still twisted, covered in patchy fur and blood. His skin was splitting at the seams. He couldn't shift back. Couldn't finish the transformation.
He just lay there, convulsing.
"Call the emergency line!" Marcus had roared.
The rest was a blur. Medics. Transport. The private shifter medical center on the north side of the city.
---
Back to now.
Mom had gone to arrange private nursing care. Dad had disappeared into a meeting with the doctors.
I was alone.
My phone buzzed. Again.
I looked down. Fourteen unread messages from Scarlett.
"Baby, where are you?"
"I'm so worried."
"Why won't you answer me?"
I stared at the words. Felt... nothing.
No urge to reply. No comfort in her concern.
I scrolled past her name. Stopped on another contact.
Elena.
Her profile picture was still the same. A candid shot from two years ago, laughing at something off-camera. She looked so damn happy.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen her smile like that.
My thumb hovered over her name. But I couldn't bring myself to press it.
The screen went dark.
My chest felt hollow. Like someone had carved out a piece of me and left a gaping hole behind.
And I had no idea how to fill it.
---
Elena's POV
I sat on the edge of the guest bed, Caleb's backup phone clutched in both hands, staring at Lila's latest message: "So... how's the situation over there? 😏"
My fingers hovered over the keyboard. I didn't know how to answer that.
The situation was that I'd just kissed Caleb Vance. Again. Except this time, I'd been the one to initiate it. I'd practically begged him for it. And the worst part? I hadn't wanted it to stop.
I could still feel the pressure of his mouth on mine, the way his hand had cupped the back of my head, the heat of his body when he'd pulled me closer. My lips felt swollen. My skin was still buzzing.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I forced myself to type back: "Fine. Just resting."
Lila's reply came instantly: "Liar. But I'll let it slide. BTW, you need clothes, right? I'm coming over this afternoon."
I groaned and flopped backward onto the bed. The last thing I needed was Lila showing up here, reading me like a book, and making her usual inappropriate commentary. But she was right—I couldn't keep wearing Caleb's shirts. The scent alone was driving me insane.
My mind spiraled back to the real problem. The one I'd been trying not to think about all morning.
I was trapped.
Trapped by the blood pact my grandfather had sworn to Randy before I was even born. Trapped by my father's desperation. Trapped by six months—just six months until I graduated, and Donald would drag me to the altar whether I wanted it or not.
If I told my father I wanted to go abroad now, he'd lock me in that house. Force a marking ceremony himself. And Caleb's job offer? No. I didn't want any more entanglement with the Vance family.
And now, trapped by my own traitorous heart.
Because somewhere between that night in the blizzard and this morning's kiss, I'd stopped being able to lie to myself. I didn't just like him. I didn't just feel grateful to him.
I wanted him.
I wanted him in a way that made my wolf whimper and my mind panic. I wanted him in a way that had nothing to do with duty or alliances or surviving my family's bullshit.
But what did that change? Nothing.
I closed my eyes and pressed the heels of my hands against them until I saw stars.
Think, Elena. Think.
But all I could think about was the way Caleb had looked at me before he kissed me. The way his thumb had brushed my lower lip. The way his voice had gone rough when he'd said, "Want to try... something else?"
My phone buzzed again.
Lila: "See you at 3. Don't do anything I wouldn't do. 😘"
I didn't bother replying.
---
Two hours later
"Okay, so I brought options." Lila dropped a duffel bag onto the guest bed with a dramatic flourish. Hector had come too, here to report work matters to Caleb.
I eyed the bag suspiciously. "Options?"
"Options." Lila unzipped it and pulled out a scrap of purple fabric that might charitably be called a nightgown. It had thin straps, a plunging neckline, and a hemline that would barely cover my ass.
I stared at her. "Are you out of your mind?"
"What? It's cute!" She held it up against herself, grinning. "You wear this tonight, and trust me, that man is going to lose his damn mind."
"Lila—"
"I'm just saying! You're already staying at his place. Might as well speed things along."
"I'm in the guest room," I hissed, my face burning. "It's not like that."
"Yet." She winked and tossed the purple nightmare onto the bed. Then she pulled out a second outfit—a light blue loungewear set. Long sleeves, loose pants, respectable neckline. Normal.
I exhaled in relief. "Thank god. I'll take that one."
"Nope. You're taking both." She shoved them both into my hands before I could protest. "The blue one's for being a coward. The purple one's for when you get brave."
"I'm not—"
"Elena." Her voice softened. She sat down on the bed and looked up at me seriously. "When are you going back home?"
The question hit me like a slap.
"I..." I swallowed hard. "I don't know."
And that was the truth. I didn't know. Because the thought of going back to that house—to my father's cold demands and my mother's helpless silence—made me feel like I was suffocating.
Lila squeezed my hand. "Then stay here as long as you need to. Okay?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
After she and Hector left, I stood there holding both outfits, staring at the purple monstrosity like it might bite me.
Then I shoved it to the bottom of my bag and pretended it didn't exist.